Barbarian Assassin (Princesses of the Ironbound Book 2)

by Aaron Crash

  An Ohnessla had one man, many women, and was the center of life for elves. Sex was for procreation only. If a woman wanted a baby, she would start drinking sanctum sap tea. She would also take off her essess and get her husband to do the same. The pair would have sex, quickly, shamefully, and the result was a baby. Their cuffs went back on, and no one in the family would mention the shameful act.

  Jayla had laughed at that, at how inhibited the Ohlyrra were, and how it would be better to live the lifespan of a human than to live a thousand years so dead.

  Jayla’s end had been awful. Jayla’s end had broken Lillee in places that would never mend. That night, that spring night when the world had shrugged off its blanket of snow and the land itself wanted to fuck. That night had been the end of the Cult of Chaos and Desire.

  After that night, Lillee thought she’d be alone forever, marked as Sullied, without any real friends.

  Now? Everything was different. Jayla would’ve been proud of her. Lillee had a family, and they fucked, hard and often, and when Lillee started to worry she might be too dirty, Jenny would praise her for her horny imagination.

  Lillee could picture the sex, she could almost remember how good it felt, and yet the magic of her cuff kept her desires turned off. It was strange to think she could be so wild, but she knew if she removed the essess she’d become that person who could revel in such depraved things.

  Best not to think about it.

  That was what her father always said to her, when he saw her struggling. Best not to think about it.

  That obviously worked for most elves. They didn’t think about sex. For her? Lillee couldn’t shut off her mind. The thoughts couldn’t be placated, and she’d long for freedom and pleasure.

  She’d played so many games with her lust for almost a century and a half. She was too old to be at the college, but it wasn’t like Old Ironbound would ever say no to a Greenhome princess, even a Sullied one.

  Lillee glanced down at her drawing. Those dwarves spoke to her, and she wasn’t sure why. She thumbed through other pieces of paper to see other women she’d drawn, a woman with dark skin and curly hair, so many curls, and a sweet charming face. Her round nose and full lips made Lillee smile. She flipped over another page, and in a series of doodles, she saw another woman’s face, a kind woman with pointed ears, but rounded, just as her eyes were almond-shaped but not fully elven. While Lillee could only draw the fine lines of her hair in black, that hair should be a rich red color, a color that darkened to scarlet the longer you looked. Whoever this person was, she was sweet, kind, and half-elven. Such people were rare, but it wasn’t unheard of. Normally, it wasn’t an elven man who searched for a human, it was a human man interested in an Ohlyrran woman, out of curiosity or circumstance.

  “The four are coming to the Majestrial,” Lillee whispered to herself. “The Morbuskor couple. The woman with dark skin and curly hair. The kind half-elf.”

  There was a reason Lillee had been put in the Flow College—the Flow was water-based magic, but it was also the Flow of time and spirits, a river of souls cutting through the world. Lillee dreamed the past, the present, the future, and her newest drawings felt like dreams wanting to come true.

  She thought for a second. Visitors would be coming to Old Ironbound. The Honored Princept, Della Pennez, would have to fill the vacancy left behind by Siteev Ckins, that villain who’d tried to murder Lillee and her friends.

  The elf girl looked down at her three drawings again. Suddenly, the sketches filled her with dread. The Morbuskor couple seemed to leer and grow monstrous. The smiling dark-skinned human suddenly wasn’t cherubic, but demonic and deranged. The kind half-elf’s eyes hid villainous secrets that might destroy them all.

  Lillee closed her eyes, opened them, and no, her sketches were fine. The four people seemed merry once more. The problem wasn’t with them, it was with Lillee herself. There was a poison in the elf girl’s heart, a little spider troubling her mind.

  Jennybelle Josen had come to them with lies on her lips. That human girl could lie as if the truth would never catch up with her. Jenny still lied during the day. She’d smile, and say everything was fine, and that she wasn’t afraid of her Auntie Jia.

  At night? The truth came screaming out. Jenny would wake up shrieking from nightmares she claimed not to remember.

  Lillee sighed. These humans should enjoy their sleep, since relative to elves, they got so little of it. And yet, with Ymir’s floating, and Jenny’s nightmares, it made most nights painfully disruptive. And Lillee had never been very adept at sleeping in the first place. With her essess on, her lust wasn’t an issue. Without it? She wouldn’t sleep much at all. Her fingers would find her ohi between her legs, and then the fantasies would take her, and then the orgasms. They would satisfy her for a few seconds, but never all that long, because she wanted another, then another, then another.

  The Ohlyrran princess blinked her eyes at the stone of her ceiling. Her concentration was gone. She might as well go and join her friends in the apartment. It was Solstice Eve, after all.

  Again, the irony wasn’t lost on her. Every year was vital to the humans. For the elves? They celebrated more celestially important events than the shortest day of the year.

  Lillee rose, put on her cape and her cloak over that. The layers helped keep her warm now that winter froze the Sorrow Coast. The fall chill had been nothing compared to the December freeze. Sometimes they’d get snow on Vempor’s Cape, but not often. That made Lillee sad. She loved the snow and missed the eastern forests. The Ohlyrra enjoyed the rugged winters of their homeland. Forced inside, artists had an excuse to work too much. And the snowy beauty was worth a red nose and sniffles.

  Best of all? Coming in from the cold, stripping off your wet clothes, and being naked in front of a fire, feeling the cold of your skin warm. Many a winter’s day, Lillee had sneaked away to a hunting cabin so she could be alone, naked, free of her essess, and all her world became her skin and her wet, messy oheesy.

  Lillee grabbed her school satchel. Before she did, she took off her essess and slipped it inside. She’d done her art for the day, she’d had her alone time, and now she wanted to rejoice in the flesh of her friends, and celebrate their life, their juices, and their breath.

  The elf girl noticed the fairy in the window of The Paradise Tree and wondered what kind of shop it was. It looked like it was about to close, and she could always explore it another day.

  As she ran up the Sea Stair, the rain pinged and panged off the hood of her waterproof cloak, a generous gift from the still very rich Jennybelle Josen.

  Lillee hurried down the covered hallway. Although Jenny’s relationship with Ymir was a secret, everyone knew she was fucking the Sullied elf. Certain Ohlyrra, like their wretched Flow professor, Issa Leel, could talk about nothing else.

  Lillee tried not to care, though it was hard. A hundred and fifty years of puritanical elven culture had a way of cementing itself into your very soul.

  The Greenhome princess had her own key, which she used to open the door.

  From the bedroom, Jenny was gasping, Ymir was grunting, and Lillee knew what that meant. She smiled at the tight knot of lust in her belly. She loved that feeling of desire, her pounding heart, the shortness of breath that made her a bit dizzy.

  She dropped her cloak to the floor, not hanging it up. Sitting on the nearest chair in the living room, she stripped off her sandals. The motion spread her legs, and she felt her pussy open, already getting slick.

  Lillee thought the Homme word, “pussy,” was such a funny word for her sex. She liked the word “clit” better. Just thinking about those words put a tingle in her ohi, the elven word. She let her cape fall to the floor of the living room. She took off her tunic and flung it away as she walked into Jenny’s bedroom.

  The sun had set, the second shortest day of the year was over, and Solstice Eve was upon them.

  Jenny still had her dress on, the lacy black one, but it was down around her middle. Ymir w
as between her legs, fucking her. Jenny’s breasts rose up and down her chest. Such big tits, such a wide areola. Lillee loved Jenny’s body. It was so different from her own—the human was shorter, wider, and more squeezable. Sometimes, after Ymir and Jenny were spent, Lillee liked to lay on her back while Jenny dangled her tits over the elf girl’s face. Lillee would suck on the swamp woman’s nipples while the elf masturbated, always wanting one more orgasm. Just one more.

  Naked, Lillee got on the bed. Jenny turned, her eyes unfocused, her mouth open.

  Her mouth looked too good not to use. Lillee crawled over her and let Jenny suck on the long, hard nipples on her smallish breasts. Lillee didn’t mind that her chest wasn’t so big. She just loved that her nipples were so sensitive and it felt so good to have the swamp woman suck on her tits while she rubbed her ohi.

  Ymir grunted and slammed into Jenny. Both of their excited bodies perfumed the air.

  Lillee rested her weight on her left hand, while her right hand worked her clit and Jenny, sweet Jenny, sucked and nibbled at her tits. The elf girl loved these two. She wanted to live their lives with them.

  And after the humans were gone? She couldn’t think about that. It wasn’t the time. She could consider their mortality when she wore her essess.

  Free of her cuff’s spell, she let go of her doubts. And then, her world was pleasure as her first orgasm took her, and then her second.

  Ymir spilled his seed into Jenny.

  Lillee didn’t pause. She got on her back, spread her legs, and opened her pussy for her man.

  The Sullied elf’s sudden arrival kept Ymir hard, and he gave her his cock, his long, thick uht, which hurt at first, going into her, spreading her open, and then? It felt so good as he got going. And it felt even better when Jenny straddled Lillee’s face. The human woman’s well-fucked sex was messy with Ymir’s essence. It was all so dirty and forbidden and wonderful and freeing. Wild sex with the barbarian and the swamp witch always felt so freeing.

  And for a time, Lillee was liberated from her life, her centuries, and her fate.

  She’d be caged in her essess soon enough.

  Chapter Four

  THE MIDNIGHT RAIN CONTINUED to tap against the roof of Jennybelle’s apartment. Droplets streamed down the glass. The fire popped in the fireplace, and Ymir sat, gazing into the flames. His women slept in the bed.

  The clansman didn’t know why he wasn’t asleep. He’d worked the day away, and then loved his way deep into the night, and now he felt comfortable and relaxed. Yet sleep wouldn’t come.

  He knew what both Grandmother Rabbit and the Sacred Mysteries of the Ax would say—a troubled mind makes a terrible pillow.

  Why was his mind troubled? He missed his homeland, sure, and he missed his battle brothers. But they were lost to him. His people loathed magic. Because of the demon’s curse, which gave him magic, Ymir could never return to his homeland.

  The memories were painful. His situation was sad. And yet, he’d told the story of the Lonely Man twice, once to Lillee and once, more recently, to Jennybelle. Repeating the story took the power from it, so that wasn’t the issue.

  Lillee came out of the bedroom, her golden cuff in place. That was the only reason why anyone was sleeping at all. She wore a silken blanket thick enough to keep away the winter chill. She sat down next to Ymir, leaning her head against his shoulder. She started to sing, a soft song that somehow sounded familiar.

  The lyrics were in Ohlyrran, an ancient dialect, though he was able to recognize some of the words.

  The light reigns. The darkness gives way. Morning comes. The silent night always ends. The seven devils flee from the Tree of Life though the tree is sleeping, and the leaves aren’t even buds in the darkness.

  Lillee ended the song. Ymir had his arms around her. They sat in front of the fireplace in the glow of the coals.

  “What was that song?” he asked. “I’ve heard it before.”

  “A Solstice song, one of the most popular ones, written after the fall of the Vempor Aegel Akkridor. Some say he was killed by a white-haired angel on the Solstice itself, and that angel sang the song over his body. It’s said she gave it to all the peoples of Thera to keep their hopes alive during the Age of Withering.” Lillee laughed a little. “It makes for a good story. The truth is muddier.”

  “As the truth often is,” Ymir agreed. “It’s how liars and storytellers can profit in this world—they make up stories that are clean and simple.”

  “Like the story we tell of Siteev Ckins.” Lillee repeated the lie so very well: Professor Ckins became obsessed with Ymir. Her love drove her mad. He had to kill her in self-defense. The lie had grown to include his First Exam, and he failed because that same Moons professor had sabotaged him.

  Ymir sighed and grunted. “That murderous bitch wasn’t working alone. She mentioned a ‘we,’ but all the Ax-damned professors at this school talk of the ‘we,’ including the Princept. I’d like to find out who Siteev’s other ‘we’ was. And researching the Akkiric Rings isn’t as easy as I first thought. There are books in the Illuminates Spire, I know. If only I had access to those texts. If only I had more time to study.”

  “I can help with your work,” Lillee offered.

  Ymir would never allow that. Part of the deal had been freeing Lillee from her labors. “I’ll find money on my own. I will pay off our debts, and I will pay for our tuition.”

  That was when Lillee saw the package under the sanctum tree—also known as the Tree of Life—in the corner. She crawled over, the blanket slipping from her body to show her backside.

  Seeing her shapely ass and the thick lips of her oheesy peeking at him, Ymir felt his lust return. Lillee retrieved the package and came back to him. “Oh, a present for us? What could it be?”

  “What could it be?” Ymir asked, stroking her leg.

  Jenny’s scream shattered the quiet moment. Both Ymir and Lillee were up, racing into her room. She was alone, but that shriek froze the back of Ymir’s neck—it sounded like she was being strangled.

  Lillee rushed onto the bed, rousing the swamp woman and holding her to her chest. “Shh, Jennybelle, all is well. You are safe with us. You were having a nightmare.”

  Ymir stood at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips, brow furrowed.

  Jenny’s eyes flickered open. “I’m all right. I ain’t gonna let a dream ruin our Solstice night. But how come you have pants on, Ymir? And why is Lillee naked?”

  “I like being naked,” Lillee said. “As for Ymir, he was up, at the fire. He won’t tell me what he bought us. We said we wouldn’t give each other presents.”

  “We did. But I’m glad our barbarian rarely follows the rules.” Jenny grinned mischievously. “It’s after midnight, so we’ll be opening that Solstice gift right fucking now.”

  “What was you dream?” Ymir asked. It seemed important, especially among sorceresses at a magic school. Dreams could tell the future, and he liked having the answers to questions before he had to ask them.

  “It’s not a thing that makes any sense,” Jenny answered far too quickly. She stretched and grabbed Ymir’s robes off the floor. She drew them on, and then bounced off the bed. Lillee put on Jenny’s blouse, which was baggy on her since the elf girl was so slender. It only reached to her waist, however, so Lillee slipped on her pannee.

  They padded out into the living room. Ymir threw more wood on the fire. Jenny poured them all glasses of the mulled wine. The women sat on a plush sofa while Ymir pulled up a chair.

  Jenny gulped down her glass and held the gift out to Lillee. “You can pull off the ribbon. I’ll do the paper. This is the best Solstice ever. When I was a child, I always figured out what I was gonna get.”

  “Because you are a wily one.” Ymir forced a grin. However, he was disturbed by Jenny’s dreams—it was another mystery to unravel.

  Lillee’s eyes sparkled as she pulled the golden ribbon off.

  Then, Jenny carefully, surgically, undid the paper.

  Gi
ft-giving wasn’t unknown to the Black Wolf Clan, though there wasn’t the opulence of the south. When every scrap of hide, bone, and sinew was used, any gift became ultimately significant. Mostly, Ymir was given special foods, like naynay, the smoked ground nuts, greasy from elk fat and so salty you needed seesee berry wine to wash them down. The wine only made the nuts taste better.

  Jenny set the elk sculpted out of xocalati on the table. Every detail was there: the animal’s antlers, the flaring nostrils, the curve of its flanks, and the muscles on its legs.

  “It’s beautiful?” The Josentown princess’s voice lilted upward as she wrinkled her nose. “You clansmen do enjoy your elk.”

  Lillee bent forward. “No, I think it’s candied.”

  “Candied elk?” Jenny laughed. “You aren’t selling me on this, Lillee Nehenna.”

  Ymir bent, broke off a section of antler, and snapped it in two. He offered it to the two women. “You eat it.”

  “Like jerky?” Jenny asked.

  Ymir gave her a steady look. “Now you’re just teasing. Put it on your tongue, let it melt, and then tell me you love me.”

  Lillee put her piece in her mouth. Her eyes widened, then closed in pure enjoyment.

  Jenny couldn’t help but stare. “She has her essess on, but I think she might’ve just creamed her pannee.”

  Lillee put her hand on her chest. “Oh, Jennybelle, try it. It’s like nothing I’ve ever had before. It’s heavenly. What is it called?”

  “Xocalati,” Ymir replied. “From the new shop.”

  “Where you met that little bitch fairy Ziziva?” Jenny abruptly popped the candy into her mouth.

  “Yes, that is where—” Ymir tried to say.

  “Wait.” The swamp woman cut him off. She stood up, blinking. “Wait. Oh, oh, this is like nothing...” And then she couldn’t talk because she was experiencing the sweetness, the bitterness, the creaminess.