Skirts & Swords (Female-Led Epic Fantasy Box Set for Charity)

by L. P. Dover

  I wasn’t sure they had attacked the horse. Maybe it was because I was there, in his mind, controlling him. “What happened to Rhys and Rider?”

  “They broke to keep from fighting such a sizeable force alone. They circled back to meet us. In the disorder, they lost track of the wolves.”

  “But the wolves weren’t hurt?”

  “They had been strung up by vine among the trees, but alive.”

  I gasped. “Why?”

  A wry smile crossed his lips, and I couldn’t help but focus on them for a moment. “Because the wolves would have fought to the death and Grand Council does not kill animals with magic.”

  I remembered my mother. “Only elves?”

  His mocking smile widened.

  They thought killing an animal with magic was evil, dark, but they were hunting us down. To burn. I considered the alternative, pierced through with arrows, blessed with a prayer, and I laughed.

  His eyes were intense as he reached up and cupped his hand gently around my neck, his fingers at my spine, his thumb lightly brushing the base of my ear. My breath caught as I felt him urge me forward.

  “They’re coming in.” I started as Ruby spoke, beside us from out of nowhere.

  Chevelle leaned back, his fingers brushing my collarbone when he pulled his hand away. I bit my lip as a tingle ran through me, and thought I saw the corner of his mouth turn up in a smile.

  After he walked from the room, I stared at the stone entry, struggling to keep my thoughts from spinning out of control. It caused me physical pain to think about his touch, about council, about what was happening, and I knew it was the bonds. Eventually, Grey walked out as well, breaking my trance. Ruby stood by the front window, wearing an odd smile, and I turned from her, rolling into a ball on my blankets. I would go back to the book, keep my mind distracted.

  I wasn’t able to find much regarding humans in the study’s library, but I was definitely right. The illustrations and descriptions matched what I had seen. I know I took a risk extending Rune’s spell further, but I did not want to get caught, definitely not followed. I wondered if my sister was still at the original camp. Surely she wasn’t bright enough to figure it out. And apparently she wasn’t willing to tell anyone.

  I was returning to the spot I had found the humans the previous day when I ran across one of them alone. I hid myself behind a patch of brush to watch him. He had a lovely complexion with a hint of bronze and cropped dark brown hair with a few tiny streaks of blond just around his face. He looked less like the others I had been watching. He was built like the elves; strong and muscled, but still lean. He wore plain pants and tall boots. His light cloth shirt moved around him as he walked, unlaced at the chest. He carried a small blade in his hand, but I couldn’t imagine what he was doing here, unaccompanied. There was a rustle from the brush several yards in the opposite direction I was hiding. He rushed toward it and I followed, unsure why he was running. The noise was made by a small boar and the human was chasing it! He ran after it, gasping for air and I followed close behind, thrilling at the spectacle. The boar approached a ridge of rock and turned, giving the human the advantage. He leapt after it, blade held wide, and landed, slicing into its side and twisting the blade back out. He was leaning over its small, motionless body, heaving for breath, covered in blood. I laughed, shocked at myself and completely found out, but still filled with excitement and amusement. He stood, whirling to face me, bloody blade held out and I had to stifle another laugh. I managed to keep my reaction calm, only a smile.

  He seemed disoriented for a moment, and then his breathing slowed and his arms relaxed. He stared at me as if I were a delusion, a dream looking back at him. He was speechless, and it occurred to me that perhaps elves were not a part of this human’s knowledge. I wondered if he would recover soon. I considered abandoning him and returning to watch the others, but his face was so interesting, the emotions so plain and readable there. But he wasn’t afraid. It was awe.

  I decided to have a little fun with him. They couldn’t possibly be dangerous. Just a little harmless fun. “Hello.” I spoke to him slowly, but it appeared he didn’t comprehend. He merely stood there, gawking at me. I tried again, “Do you wish to speak with me?”

  “Yes,” he finally stuttered.

  Ah, he understood! I started again, “Hello.”

  Bewilderment. And then, “Uh … hello.”

  “I am …” I hesitated, unsure if I should tell him my name; I was on the run after all. I decided on a replacement. “Lizzy.”

  He seemed to like that. I waited. He finally caught on. “I’m Noble.”

  Now I was confused. “You are noble?”

  He shook his head. “Noble is my name. Noble Grand.”

  “That is a large name. You are a ruler among your people?”

  He laughed, shaking his head again. “No, no. Noble is my given name, passed down for generations. Grand is the family name.”

  Generations? I was surprised again. I stepped closer, enthralled. “What are you doing here?”

  “We are searching for a good place to start over,” he explained. I was scrutinizing his blade. “Oh, well, I’m hunting.”

  He wasn’t as slow as I had thought, quite capable of conversation. I couldn’t help but wonder, “You were a bit … stunned before?”

  He flushed a dark shade of red. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, it’s just that you are quite beautiful. Surely the loveliest thing I have ever seen.” I smiled at the compliment in spite of myself, and he continued the flattery. “And then when you spoke, your voice … it’s like a melody.”

  “And you are seeking a new camp?”

  “A more permanent settlement, actually.”

  “You have found it here?”

  “We are undecided. Days ago we were attacked.” Pain washed over his face. “A horrid creature took several of our men.”

  I nodded. “An imp.”

  “I’d never believed it to be true if I hadn’t seen it myself.” He was lost in thought as he continued, “We may move again, the risk seems too great.”

  Suddenly, I didn’t want them to relocate. I wanted them to stay right there, where I could watch them. I tried to make him feel safe. “You know, I could protect you.”

  He was incredulous. I decided to show him.

  I stepped forward, noting his unease at my movement, and faced the boar that lie on the ground behind him. He turned to see what I was focusing on. I was afraid to scare him too much, so I decided on a small gesture, yet significant enough to convince him. I held my hand out in front of me, emphasizing the action as I twisted my wrist in the air, the boar’s head spinning, the sound of its neck cracking in tandem with my movement.

  He gasped and stepped a single step back from me. I was afraid for a moment I’d shown him too much. He looked at my face, searching, and finally let out a breathless, “Magic.”

  His face was filled with wonder. I had seen many impressed with my talents, but never with such an effortless show. I laughed to myself at the thought of his reaction to those shows. It was refreshing to have someone so genuinely awed. He didn’t ask to see what else I could do; he wasn’t sizing me up for battle. I smiled at him and he seemed to think that alone a reward.

  He was still speechless.

  “Well, shall you stay, then?”

  “Forever,” he gushed. It was a curious response, but I had begun to think he wasn’t that different, aside from the obvious lack of magic, skill, and grace. Moreover, where many of the others lacked beauty, he did not. Unconventional, yes, but nonetheless ... interesting.

  I led him to a set of stones to sit, wanting to get answers to all the questions that had been burning in my mind since I had spotted them. He had forgotten his prey, so I offered to help him with it. This befuddled him, so I simply skinned and spitted the animal while he sat, staring in amazement. It was like he’d never seen fire before. It made the magic fun again. Like when we were kids, before Father
’s ridiculous schedule. I shook off the memory of practice and focused on the human.

  “So, how old are you?”

  “Twenty-two,” he said, almost shamefully.

  At first, I was shocked at the number; I thought maybe I’d misunderstood. But I remembered reading something about the human lifespan, which was very brief. I’d have guessed ten times that number if he were an elf.

  “Why the hint of embarrassment at the number?”

  “They tell me I should have a family by now.”

  “You have none?”

  “A mother and father, but none of my own. No wife, no children.”

  “You are expected to have a wife and child after just two decades of life?”

  He laughed for some reason I could not see. “Then you have no family of your own?”

  “I am not expected to pair for quite some time, if ever. And children? Ha!” He was visibly perplexed, so I kept talking, “I have a family as well, though my mother died recently.”

  Sadness washed his features. “I’m sorry. Was it an imp?”

  “No.” I laughed at the strange idea. And for no apparent reason, I told him the truth. “She died of sorrow.”

  His brow furrowed.

  We shared the boar and talked further, casually as if we had been old friends. He resituated himself on the rock, coming closer to me, and his shirt moved to expose a different color skin where it opened at the chest. I reached out to pull it aside and his eyes grew wild at the touch.

  “Your skin is a different shade here.”

  He smiled, as if I were being coy. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Sometimes I work with my shirt on, to avoid the burn of the sun.”

  “The sun?”

  He laughed, but then realized I wasn’t joking. “It is a tan … from the sun.” He pulled the laces and lifted his shirt over his head, throwing it aside to show me his bare chest. The bronzed color of his face extended there, but was a lighter shade. I examined him closer, taking his hand and turning his arm. The inside of his wrist was lighter still, close to the shade of my own skin.

  I was still studying him when he spoke softly, “May I kiss you?”

  His breath hit my face; I hadn’t realized how close I had gotten. It surprised me, as did his request. I had a perverted desire to let him, I smiled thinking of it. He took that as an invitation, leaning closer, his hand raised to touch my face. His thumb caressed my ear as he reached around into my hair, pulling me to him. He started gently, teasing, and then crushed our lips together, his strong hand holding me there, his breathing deep.

  At some point, I became aware of what I was doing and drew back. “I have to go now.” He looked devastated. “Goodbye, young Noble.”

  “Can I see you again?”

  I smiled. “I will return.”

  He took a deep breath, satisfied. “I’ll be waiting.”

  As I turned to go, I realized I hadn’t asked any of the important questions that had been nagging me. I’d have to try harder tomorrow, stay on task. I ran back to the castle at full speed.

  Ruby cleared her throat and I shoved the book into my pack. I glanced over at her, but she was still facing out the window. Chevelle walked in and I flushed as the memory of his touch came back. Ruby threw him a wicked smile before she left the room.

  “Ready to resume training?” he asked.

  It was worse than I’d thought. He beckoned, so I stood in compliance.

  I wobbled.

  He was there in a second, steadying me. I hadn’t stood since the incident and my head spun a little. He looked concerned, so I shook it off. “I’m fine … really.”

  He took a step closer and I became wholly aware of his hands at my waist. The grip he’d used to steady me became softer and yet, at the same time, his fingers tightened around me. My breath hitched as he pulled me against him, the length of our bodies touching.

  Black spots swirled in front of my eyes. I fought to stay focused on his face, so close. His eyes grew troubled and then he blurred out of vision as I went limp in his arms.

  “Frey … Frey …”

  I was looking at the sky when I opened my eyes. “What happened?”

  “You seem to have blacked out,” Chevelle said. I thought I saw a hint of a smile on his face.

  I flushed. He must have seen that coming, held me because of it, to prevent me from falling on my face. I was an idiot.

  I tried to stand again and he helped me up, this time holding me only by one arm. I took a deep breath. “I’m okay now, I think.”

  He smirked.

  I attempted every type of magic he could come up with, to no avail. I was beyond frustrated. Worse, I could tell he was being gentle on purpose, afraid I would break. I thought of what he’d said before, the dangers of messing with the bindings.

  He must have read it on my face. “That’s enough for now. Rest, Freya.”

  I didn’t argue.

  Ruby came in, as if on cue, and Chevelle excused himself. I laid down, but irritation kept me from sleep. I returned to the book.

  I spent the next several weeks visiting him. I had forgotten about the rest of the camp. He had become absolutely infatuated with me and I couldn’t keep myself from indulging him. I was thoroughly enjoying it, reveling in it if I was honest with myself.

  He persisted in trying to touch and kiss me anytime I was close enough to allow, and I let him sometimes.

  He surprised me one evening, when he knew it was time for me to leave, grabbing my wrist and holding me there. I was stronger than him, but I didn’t resist his pull as he spoke fervently, “Don’t go.”

  I smiled. “I will return tomorrow. Early.”

  “No,” he said, flush with emotion. “I don’t ever want you to go.”

  I laughed lightly and he drew me closer. “Stay with me.”

  I started to pull away and he reached up, placing his hands on either side of my face, feverishly now. “Marry me, Lizzy.” I had long since gotten used to the name, but I wasn’t sure he was talking to me at first. Just the thought of it seemed so ridiculous. I stopped myself from laughing, knowing from previous experience this would hurt him, wound his fragile emotions. I had come to realize he didn’t know what I was. He knew I was different, of course, knew of the magic, though I’d shown him nothing of my real power. But he didn’t understand I was an elf. I didn’t explain, knowing it would do nothing but perplex his simple mind. He merely thought I was something special, extraordinary. Beauty and magic and something beyond. But did he actually think I was human, marriable? I was incredulous.

  But he was obsessed. The moment it slipped from his lips, he became more focused on that than anything else. Making me his bride. I couldn’t understand.

  He tried to explain, “I want you, forever. I need you, Lizzy.” The yearning in his voice was clear on the last part and I was surprised that I ached for him a little, felt for his pain and need. He touched me then and I thought I understood when he continued, “We could be together …”

  Marriage. Yes, he wanted to join us. I bit my lip, undecided. Curiosity was there, too. And I couldn’t help but imagine. He was unmagical. He had no idea what I could do to him, for him, in such an intimate setting. What could it hurt, really? Sure, I could marry him, but it wouldn’t be real, I knew that. But the other part, well, I could do that without the marriage, couldn’t I? Harmless fun …

  I smiled as I leaned closer to him. This was the first time I had initiated a kiss and he was grateful, more than grateful … overwhelmed with pleasure. I laughed to myself at what was to come, if this small, insignificant gesture brought him so much happiness. Our lips touched and he gasped, and then the breath turned to a low moan.

  I flushed. The encounter was very … descriptive. I threw a wary glance over my shoulder, making sure Ruby was still at the window as I continued.

  The days we had spent coupling had done nothing to diminish his desire. If anything, they had enflamed it. And his obsession with marr
iage increased tenfold. I had not met his family, but one morning when I arrived at the patch of forest where we met, he proudly presented his mother’s wedding gown, a gift for me. He wanted me to wear it, in our ceremony. I had never actually agreed to the union, but I continuously avoided telling him it was not possible. It would be only valid in his mind. But then again, what would that hurt?

  I accepted the dress from him, looking it over. It was poorly made and ill fitting, but had potential as a design. I sat, using magic to work on the seaming and arrange the pearl strands and beading in a more pleasant pattern while deciding how best to deal with him. He was watching me intently. “We will have such prosperity. Think of it, with your magic, we will be able to conquer anything. Whatever we need, whatever we want, it will be nothing but a flick of your wrist.”

  I froze. It was irrational, I knew, but anger seethed. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking he was just like everyone else. My powers. My magic. And how it would benefit him. I turned to him, glaring, and he drew back, startled by my sudden, intense fury. “Is that what you want, why you are so intent on marrying? For my power?”

  He shook his head, mystified, but regret was still plain on his face for whatever he’d unintentionally done to cause it. The rage had overtaken me, though. The weeks of drugging Rune, sneaking out, my missing father—searching for a new wife I was sure—all of it too much. I slipped. A small crack in my stability let out enough magic to hurt him. I didn’t hit him, but the surrounding trees and rocks were pulverized, and I knew I had done too much. He stared back at me … afraid.

  I turned and ran without another word. Straight back to the castle, home. In these few short weeks I had started to think of it less as a home and more as a prison. My limited freedom made me ache for more, my time with this human had felt like living. This was wrong. I would return to him tomorrow, set things right. As I ran, I realized I was still carrying the dress with me. I couldn’t understand why I had bothered dragging it along, but my grip on it was tight. I rolled it up, tucking it under my arm as I approached the castle. My prison.