Emperor

by Isaac Hooke

  He just looked at her, this beautiful woman mounted on top of him, the locks of her long hair tumbling down on either side and almost touching his body. He almost couldn’t believe this was happening.

  A queen, an elven queen.

  But he had been with queens before. And princesses.

  Once again, the pleasure echoed and magnified as it passed between the two of them, and the other companions he was bound to. He could hear moans coming from some of the other tents.

  “You fuckers mind keeping it down?” Xaxia said from another tent. “Some of us are trying to sleep! Plus, remember… there might be dragons searching these mountains for us!”

  But her words had little effect on the moans he heard.

  “I kinda like it!” Timlir said from another tent. “Nothing like the sound of fucking! You can join me if you’re getting horny, lassy!”

  “Ha!” Xaxia returned. “I’d rather have sex with a rock then a dwarf!”

  “Close your eyes!” Timlir sent. “I’m good at pretending to be a rock!”

  Wendolin increased her thrusting motions above him, and he rammed his hips upward to meet her each time. Her neck bent far back, and she smiled lasciviously as she worked him. She bent her hips back and forth while rocking up and down, a technique that only increased his own pleasure.

  I’m going to have to teach the other girls that!

  Faster and faster she moved, and her moans came with increasing frequency, until he felt the usually exponential rise in pleasure, and they exploded as one.

  Then she collapsed on top of him and rested her head upon his shoulder.

  “And that’s that,” she said.

  “Yup,” he said. “But I thought you said elves like to do it three times in a row.”

  “Oh come on, give me some rest,” she said.

  He chuckled. “As you wish, my lady.”

  “Oh, stop it,” she said. “You don’t care that I’m a queen. Just like I don’t care you’re a plebe.”

  “I’m a plebe!” he said, making fun of her.

  “Uh huh,” she said.

  “Is that how you really think of the rest of us?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she replied. “What’s wrong with that? It doesn’t change how I treat you. Well, at first it did, maybe. But not now, now that I know you.”

  “But I’m still a plebe,” he said.

  “Yup,” she said.

  He smiled. “If that’s your way of trying to get the upper hand on me, it’s not going to work.”

  “We’ll see,” she said. “I suppose I can withhold sex if I have to.”

  “But that won’t work either,” he said. “Considering there are others eager to take your place if you won’t come to my bed.”

  “But none of them are like me,” she said.

  “They can be taught,” he said.

  She sighed. “Ah, Breaker. If only we could live ordinary lives. I wish Balors didn’t exist. And that they weren’t trying to destroy one another. Then we could live our lives in peace.” She closed her eyes. “And I wish I was completely human.”

  “You don’t wish that,” he said.

  “Oh, but I do,” she said.

  “Why?” he said. “You should be happy to be who you are.”

  “Because,” she said. “I’m going to have to watch you die someday.”

  “When I’m old,” Malem said. “Really old.”

  She smiled sadly, and gazed into his eyes. “You don’t understand. When you’re as old as me, time seems to pass but so much faster. This time we’re spending together, it will be over in the merest blink of an eye, as far as I’m concerned. And then you’ll be gone, and I’ll be alone again.”

  “But you’ll have many grandchildren to take care of by then, with any luck,” he said with a wink.

  She laughed. “And how many of them will be mine?”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll only take care of those you sire yourself,” he said.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe I’ll take on some blue and green ones. And some little dragons.”

  “Whatever you want,” he said.

  She closed her eyes. “Do you want to marry when this is done?”

  “No!” he said, a little too forcefully. “I mean, no. I already told Abigail I’m never getting married. And my answer is the same to you. I won’t be able to deal with the jealousy issues that come with having one wife, and making the rest mistresses.”

  She shrugged. “Then marry us all.”

  “What’s the point of that?” he said. “Not marrying you all is the same thing.”

  She smiled wanly. “I guess it’s the symbolism. If we all wore a ring on our fingers, we’d know we were yours.”

  “But you already know you’re mine…” he told her. “You can feel me in your head.”

  “I guess,” she said. “Xaxia can’t, though.”

  “I don’t think she cares either way,” he said.

  “Oh she cares,” Wendolin said. “I’ve talked to her. She feels left out that she can’t experience this connection we have. And share thoughts, and pleasure.”

  “Well, there’s nothing I can do about that,” he said. “She’s human.”

  Wendolin nodded, and then snuggled against him. She reached between his legs, and squeezed.

  Once again, he felt blood rushing to his nether region.

  “Looks like you’re ready to go again,” she said.

  “Of course,” he told her. “I’ve been waiting on you.”

  She smiled. “Wait no more!”

  She mounted him once more, and they kept at it for much of the night, before finally collapsing in utter exhaustion.

  He slept deeply, his dreams filled with images of small breasts, long hair, and a beautiful, ragged scar.

  25

  Malem rode upon Nemertes. The dragon had arrived with the dawn, as promised. She still had her saddle, so that Malem and Wendolin could ride her with ease.

  The other riders didn’t have it quite so easy. Since the Metals hadn’t carried their large saddles with them through the depths of the mountain, their riders had to hook their feet in between where the wing stalks joined the main bodies. It wasn’t the safest setup, but if any of the riders should fall, the dragons were ready to swoop down to snatch them up in their talons. The rest of the flight would be spent rather uncomfortably thereafter, however.

  There had been some debate on whether or not the party should go back to retrieve the saddles on the opposite side of the mountain, but Malem didn’t want to risk alerting Vorgon or the demon’s army. Those black dragons hadn’t looked all that friendly…

  Malem supposed that if the army was present, dragons would have been searching the mountains all night. More likely the Balor had already returned to the Black Realm with its dark host. And if the uraks hadn’t taken the saddles with them, then they had probably torn them to pieces before departing. It didn’t seem worth it to check, not when the others could ride bareback anyway.

  The dragons flew west, heading toward the Dark Wood to seek Grendel.

  Why do we head to the Dark Wood? Nemertes asked.

  Have you ever heard of Grendel? Malem asked Nemertes.

  No.

  She’s a witch of some kind, he explained. Knows how to summon Paragons. According to the undead king.

  Sweet, Nemertes sent. Did I ever tell you I ate an undead village once?

  No, you didn’t, he said. How did that go?

  Not well, Nemertes replied. They continued to fight in my belly after I swallowed them, so I was forced to swallow a live hill giant to deal with them. Needless to say, I was shitting bones for weeks afterwards. And the only nutritional value I received was from the hill giant. I’d advise you not to dine on undead if you can help it.

  I’ll make a mental note of it, he told the dragon.

  He’d stowed his backpack into one of the saddlebags so that Wendolin could wrap her arms around him. She was lying against his back, essentia
lly hugging him. From the contentment emanating from her energy bundle, he thought she must have a smile on her face. He could feel those small breasts pressing into the fabric of his shirt, and just the thought of them caused images of the night before to come flooding into his mind, and aroused him.

  He shifted, his pants feeling suddenly too tight.

  Wendolin raised her head. Getting uncomfortable?

  No. Just thinking about last night.

  Ah. She lowered her head against him. It was fun, wasn’t it?

  Fun? That’s all you have to say about it?

  Well, incredible is probably a better word, but I don’t want you to get a big head, she said. And I mean that in both senses of the word.

  He chuckled. Dirty girl.

  I’m a woman, not a girl, she insisted.

  Dirty woman, then.

  I never claimed to be anything but, she told him.

  You think if I repositioned in the saddle so that we were both facing each other, we could fuck without anyone noticing? he asked.

  Doubtful, she said. Especially considering they’d feel it the moment you penetrated.

  I could mute them all, he said. It would just be me and you.

  Now that definitely is tempting, she said. But I still think everyone else would notice. We’re in plain view. So, for your sake, I’m going to have to say no. Wouldn’t want you to have to deal with the fallout.

  Leave any jealousy issues to me, he said, feeling himself becoming even harder. He wanted her now, in this moment, more than anything. Come on, we could form a new club. We’ll call it… the Sex on Dragonback Club. You and I can be the inauguratory members. Or how about just: the Dragonback Club. You haven’t truly had sex until you’ve done it on dragonback.

  Sorry.

  Sighing, he forced himself to think of the death knights in the mountain, and that got him to lose his arousal fairly quick.

  They flew for half the day, until a dark smear appeared on the horizon to the west.

  Is that Dark Wood? he asked Wendolin, all traces of his earlier arousal gone.

  It is, she replied.

  It’s intact, Malem said. I was expecting to find it burned to the ground, considering Vorgon and his army passed this way when they first invaded.

  Perhaps someone had warned him that Grendel resided within, Wendolin said. If you were a Balor, and someone told you a witch who could summon a Paragon resided in these woods, you’d think twice before attacking, too.

  I probably would, he agreed.

  Besides, the Dark Wood is rumored to be enchanted, Wendolin continued. That alone might have been enough for Vorgon to avoid it.

  What kind of enchantment are we talking about? he asked her.

  Oh, the usual. Living trees that snatch up men and animals as they walk by, and devour them.

  Good thing we have you with us, he said. Master of trees.

  Yes, good thing indeed.

  When they were in range, he had the dragons perform a pass across the forest. It wasn’t all that big, maybe a twentieth the size of the Midweald—more like a copse compared to some of the larger forests Malem had traveled.

  He didn’t want to get too close to the forest, in case something evil should shoot out, so he kept the dragons roughly a mile from the ground.

  As they passed over the northeastern portion of the forest, he spotted a gable roof nestled amid the trees.

  You see that? he sent to all those who were joined with him.

  That has to be our witch’s house, Abigail replied.

  I can’t believe we found it already, Gwen said.

  Not everyone who comes this way has dragons at their disposal, Mauritania commented.

  At your disposal? Brita said. Is that how you view us? As something to be disposed of?

  Touchy, Mauritania said. But I admit, a poor choice of words on my part.

  I’ll say, Brita told her.

  So, let’s try to land as close as possible, Malem said.

  Hm, I’m not seeing any clearings wide enough, Nemertes said. Unless you want us to crash into the trees, and try to knock them over before they trip us up too badly. Won’t be pleasant… least of all for the riders.

  No, Malem said. I guess we can land on the outskirts to the northeast, and make our way inside. It looks like a short, twenty-minute walk from here.

  Distances can be deceptive at this height, Nemertes commented. I’d estimate twice that, myself.

  The dragons landed on the northeastern eaves of the forest, and the riders dismounted, sliding down the leathery wings to the ground.

  Malem retrieved his backpack from the saddlebags, and his dragonscale armor. He began to don the latter.

  “That forest is kind of dense for us to stay in dragon form,” Abigail said.

  Malem stared into the forest as he applied his armor. It would definitely be a tight fit for the dragons. “You might as well revert to human form.”

  The dragons did so.

  The riders had carried along the clothing and armor of the Metals in their backpacks, and they promptly returned them after the half dragons returned to human form.

  As usual, as the Metals dressed, Malem’s gaze kept drifting to Brita’s tight little ass.

  “You’re a dog,” Wendolin said.

  Feeling the blood rush to his face, Malem quickly averted his eyes and concentrated on securing his breastplate. “Oh, what? I was, er, just looking at the, um, the… backpacks. I was wondering what was in Brita’s backpack.”

  “I’ll bet you were,” Wendolin said. “Considering she doesn’t have a backpack. At least, not the kind you carry over your shoulders. Which backpack of Brita’s were you referring to?”

  “Never mind.” He turned around, and pretended to study the southern eaves of the forest while he finished tightening the last of his armor. When he was done, he scooped his pack from the ground and set it upon his back, and then strapped Balethorn to his thigh.

  “Why didn’t you wear your dragonscale armor before we left?” Wendolin asked. “Would have been safer that way, wouldn’t it?”

  “That armor wouldn’t help me if I fell to my death,” he told her.

  “I meant more if we were attacked,” she said. “Either while in the air, or shortly after landing.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Yes, you’re right.” And she was. “But I didn’t put on my armor because, well, I wanted to feel the press of your breasts against my back.” He shrugged, giving her a sheepish smile.

  She made an appropriately scandalized face. “I’m not sure whether to feel disgusted, or loved.”

  He smiled, and let his gaze drop to her chest. “Maybe we should ask them?” He nodded towards her breasts.

  “Men!” She sniffed and walked away.

  Whoops.

  He had meant it as a joke, but apparently she hadn’t found it funny. He understood why now, of course, but it was a little too late to take it back.

  Definitely getting rusty with women. You’re growing complacent, Malem.

  Not that it mattered. If she wouldn’t come to his bed, another would.

  He shook his head, forcing himself to dwell on the present moment, and the task at hand.

  Nemertes approached the tree line. “If your Metal friends can’t fit, of course I won’t be able to. I’ll wait here.”

  “You could shadow our advance from above,” Malem suggested.

  “That means a whole lot of circling in place,” Nemertes said. “I’d much rather rest my wings. It’s been a long journey. I’m an ancient dragon, remember. Have some respect for my age.”

  Malem inclined his head. “I suppose I’m in good hands as it is.”

  He reached out, and Broke several songbirds he sensed in the forest ahead of him. There were other animals, too, but he left them alone for the moment. There weren’t any monsters, at least none he could detect.

  He sent the birds forward, toward the gable roof house. The forest seemed relatively calm around them. The trees also appeared to
be normal: there were no animated man eaters among them, as Wendolin had suggested.

  By then the dragons had finished dressing, and Malem had Solan and Gannet lead the way into the forest. The party followed a deer trail through the foliage, and each member stepped over the occasional droppings along the way—small, marble-sized turds piled into small circles.

  Even though the trees seemed normal, Malem wasn’t about to take any chances: he still gave strict orders for the party members to stay as far away from those trunks, and any stray branches, as possible. That meant traveling in single file behind Solan and Gannet.

  Ahead, the birds reached the gable-roofed house. It was painted pink, of all colors. They perched on the nearby branches, the rooftop, and its windowsills. He switched to the viewpoint of one of those that perched on a windowsill, and tried to peer inside the house, but unfortunately, the curtains inside were shut.

  He had the bird fly around to the other windows, but they, too had shut curtains. Those curtains were colored a bright orange, contrasting to the pink exterior. Odd choice of colors.

  He sent the bird to the rooftop, hoping for a chimney or something that he could send the bird down, but there wasn’t one.

  Hmm.

  He returned his viewpoint back inside himself, and continue walking. Ziatrice had been waiting beside him.

  “You went ahead with your mind?” she asked.

  “I Broke some birds, yes,” he told her.

  “How does it look?” she pressed.

  “Just a house out in the woods,” he said. “Well maintained, at that. Obviously, someone is living there. It’s not overgrown, and the pink paint seems fresh.”

  “Pink?” Ziatrice said.

  “That’s right,” he said.

  “This Grendel is going to be an interesting character, I think,” Ziatrice said.

  “Most likely,” he agreed.

  The journey through the woods proved mostly uneventful. Solan did startle a boar at one point, and from his cry of surprise, he seemed more scared than the fleeing boar. Though the shout did cause the animal to run even faster, admittedly.

  You sensed that ghastly creature didn’t you, Breaker? Solan sent.

  Of course, Malem replied.

  And yet you didn’t warn me… Solan said.