by Ellen Wilson
Neither one of them had been ready for the passion and desperation that ignited within. Princess Fiora had apparently found Capriella far too clothed and hiked up the redhead’s dress, her strong hands slipping around to roughly grip at her rear and draw her closer still.
Capriella gasped as her eyes closed. She felt something there, between the princess’ legs, pressing against her. If it hadn’t felt so good, she might have questioned its presence, but she only found herself wanting more. Fiora’s hands slipped lower, taking her behind the thighs and she was lifted off her feet. Now she could feel herself seated upon that mystery object; something stiff that ran along her underside, its tip cushioned comfortably between her buttocks. They didn’t dare break their lip-lock all the while.
Fiora carried her over to one of the courtyard’s short walls and all but slammed her back against the stone. Capriella yelped, their passionate kiss finally ended, but the pain she felt was one she craved for more of. The sensation of it coursed through her and only added to the effect of the unbridled lust she was swept away in.
“P-Princess!” she moaned, clutching at the back of the other woman’s dress while Fiora’s kisses trailed along her neck. Her legs were growing weaker around the princess’ waist and again she could feel that rod of flesh against her. It didn’t make any sense, but Capriella didn’t care. She moved her hips and rubbed herself against it. Fiora shuddered in her arms. It was more than either of them could take anymore.
Capriella was dimly aware that her undergarments were being removed. Only when the cool air touched upon her hot sex did she realize it, and even that moment was short-lived. Something warm and hard pressed against her before it began to press into her.
“Ah..!” Capriella cried, gritting her teeth as her womanhood parted to accept Fiora’s length. Her arms and legs clenched around the princess.
“So… tight…” Fiora said, breathing hot on Capriella’s shoulder. “Can you relax a little?”
She nodded weakly. “I’ll try,” she said, forcing herself to loosen her grip despite her instincts. The effect was almost instant, and she could feel Fiora’s shaft sliding deeper into her now that she had dropped her resistance.
“Haah… ahh,” she moaned while Fiora started a rhythmic movement with her hips, subtle motions that had the princess pulsating inside her. She inadvertently clenched against Fiora once more, but her sex couldn’t refute the penetrations any longer. Which was just as well, she would be mad to want to stop it now. She couldn’t imagine how something in this world could feel so good. Neither one of them could. They had finally
It was Fiora’s first such experience, same as Capriella. The connection that she felt with the Sevelyn was fierce from the get-go and had only culminated each day. Her desire to stuff herself deeper and further into the other woman was rewarded by the warm squeeze of her sex’s convulsions. Fiora greedily went harder and faster, her hands gripping the smooth skin of the girl’s thighs, just under the knee.
“Pr—” Capriella started, but an unintelligible groan from her throat cut her off. She closed her eyes and shuddered as something exploded inside of her, a blossoming peak of pleasure erupting in her loins that caught her unaware. “Nngh!” she whimpered, writhing as the sensation overtook her. Fiora felt the squeeze around her shaft and it all but choked out her own orgasm.
“Capri—mmf! – ella!” Fiora cried, her own release spurting out of her suddenly. It was as if a dam had broken and the torrent that came rushing after was the greatest relief she had ever felt in her life. Capriella’s sex continued to convulse around her, so she continued with her thrusts, slowed now, but milking the experience for all it was worth. This time, Capriella kissed her, and Fiora knew that she had fallen helplessly in love with the redhead.
“After that, it was just like the queen – your mother – had said. I knew what it was to be Sevelyn. I could feel the power, this… fire inside of me and even better, I could use it,” Capriella finished, a warm smile on her face as she reminisced. She might have been embarrassed to start the story, but by its conclusion, she was proud.
They were forced to travel by foot for now but were making a decent pace. They had trekked across a bridge to cross the Yenes River and followed a path that was well-used by travelers and merchants. Each of them was dressed in the cloaks that Capriella had found, as a silver-haired woman with a red-haired companion would be all too easy to recognize. Even under the hood, though, she could see her queen’s face had gone beet red.
“It’s a lot to take in,” Capriella offered, turning her head so her own blush wouldn’t show. How bizarre it felt for her to have to explain it all. It had been Fiora herself, after all, who had told and shown her what it meant to be Sevelyn. To her, it was the greatest gift the gods could have bestowed upon a poor and lonely girl. Even so, a change of subject would be nice to spare them the awkward silence.
“There’s a village up ahead – can’t remember its name – but we should reach it before dusk. We’ll put up there so I can check your injuries.”
Fiora nodded, having nearly forgotten all about them. Her bandages were still stained with dried blood, but she didn’t feel any pain or hindrance from the wounds. She decided not to say anything about it. Something about staying the night somewhere with the redhead got her blood pumping excitedly, and she found herself looking forward to it with some anticipation.
“Haah!” Vela cried, her mouth hanging open while her eyes rolled back into her head. She had lost track how many times her sex had responded that way, an explosion of pleasure that coursed up through her and to her head with dizzying euphoria. At first, she thought any service she could do for the barbarian queen, Dyssa, would be a great honor. Then she realized she was little more than an outlet for the other woman’s frustrations, a sleeve to take and pour fiery emotions into. Now she could hardly form any coherent thought at all.
Her shirt had been pulled down to the middle of her torso and Dyssa’s grip on it had turned it into a vise around her arms, which were still caught in the sleeves. It exposed her modest chest, breasts that were bare and bounced with each descent into Dyssa’s lap. They were bruised red where even now one of the barbarian queen’s hands hungrily groped and tugged at her, another handhold to use to pull her down again and again on her erect member. Dyssa was only softly-toned with muscle, but it went a long way applied to an Ankhor. Vela had seen that strength once, when Fiora had struck her brother, but now she felt it in the hands of the barbarian queen.
Dyssa panted steadily, seated upon a chair covered with a thick, black fur. Her dark-tan skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, much like Vela’s, and it amplified the sound of her thighs slapping against the other woman’s own. The juices that ran down Dyssa’s length, churned out of Vela’s sex, had a similar effect.
“Ungh!” the barbarian queen grunted, standing up to her feet suddenly. She took Vela with her, gripping the fabric of the shirt and a favored breast tightly and began railing into her. Her thrusts were fiercer than ever, and her legs flexed as they stood her ground powerfully. Vela’s curled toes dangled in the air, inches off the floor, while she was ravished from behind.
“Ah! Ah! Ahh!” Vela bit down on her lip and her cries turned into muffled whimpers of “Mmph! Mmph! Mmph!” Another orgasm choked at Dyssa’s appendage, and the barbarian queen chuckled softly before her eyelids drooped. Her own climax was fast approaching.
“Yes… yes… nngh!” she moaned, nearly ripping the shirt she held as she thrust into Vela a final time. Her swollen member burst forth inside her and she hugged the woman close against her, breasts tight against the paler woman’s back. Vela trembled as she was pumped into, the barbarian queen being doubly sure she didn’t waste a single drop.
Dyssa sighed contentedly once she was done and unceremoniously dropped the girl. Vela, in her exhausted state, crumpled down to the brown furs on the floor, her crevice oozing with stuff thick and milky. But to her surprise, she felt her energy quickly coming back to her.
No, it was more. It was power.
“There’s your reward,” Dyssa grunted. “And a little extra, for the fun.” A heavy sack of leather landed on the fur beside her, clinking with gold coins. “I probably don’t have to tell you, but you’re no Sevelyn.” The barbarian queen sat back down on the chair. “But even a regular human gets something from us. From that, I’d say…” she trailed off, rubbing at her chin speculatively.
“Thirty days,” Dyssa said, a grin on her face. “Thirty days for you to use that power and serve me. Most of my people are busy searching for the lost Sevelyn. You’re sure that you saw Fiora and the sword alive?”
Vela tentatively stood back to her feet. She took a second to flex her fingers and form a fist, admiring the strength that she felt in her, then turned to meet her queen’s eyes. “Yes, absolutely. We were about to take the Sevelyn when Fiora attacked us. The silver-hair, her strength… it was definitely her.”
“Damn,” Dyssa cursed, chewing at her lip. They had been certain of her rival queen’s death, along with the Sevelyn called Capriella. Had it been a mistake to leave the bodies behind? Dyssa and her own Sevelyn had been exhausted after the battle despite their advantages, so she had returned home to feast and rest while her minions went searching for the scattered survivors. She should have taken the other’s head, of course. Anything less was a disgrace to her father. But to hear the sword was alive, perhaps she would get another chance yet to claim Capriella as her own. If word was to be believed, she was a one-of-a-kind Sevelyn. “Do you have any idea where they were headed?”
Vela only had to think about it for a moment. “Wouldn’t they go south?”
“That’s a good assumption. There are still those that are loyal to her, but she may have already considered we’d think that,” Dyssa closed her eyes in thought. “If I were her, I’d be searching for my Sevelyn. If the sword’s with her, then she’ll know just where to go.”
Vela decided to remain quiet while the barbarian queen thought aloud. Dyssa obviously knew things that she did not.
“That’s okay,” she said, reopening her eyes with her grin returning in full confidence. She crossed a slender leg over the other and settled back more comfortably. “We’ve got one of hers that’ll lead us right to them.”
Restless
The village was called Felowyn and it was bigger than Capriella had remembered it. That wasn’t uncommon in the kingdom of Unicra. It was a first-hand account of the good the Winsletts did for their territories, helping towns to prosper and ensuring its citizens had everything they needed to continue doing so. Capriella had underestimated how long it would take the two of them to reach Felowyn, and night had come before they did. It was just as well, allowing the two to blend in the darkness while the Sevelyn woman watched the town from afar. She could see several lights moving around on patrol, in and along the perimeter of the village.
“Lots of guards,” Capriella noted. Normally it would have been a welcome sight. They would be loyal to Fiora, at least on the surface, but now she wasn’t sure who could be trusted. Aside from most of her Sevelyn sisters, and her queen, of course, she couldn’t comfortably put her faith in anyone else. Still, it was good to see that even in Fiora’s absence, the guards were being diligent in protecting the common folk. However, the ramped-up security indicated they were most likely expecting a raid. Whether that be from Dyssa’s barbarians or the run-of-the-mill bandits that roamed the countryside, both cases could be problematic.
“We’ll have to find some way to sneak in. We really don’t want Dyssa knowing where we are,” Capriella said, but when she glanced over her shoulder, she noticed Fiora was missing. “My lady?” Her eyes followed the slight decline of the earth and she just barely made out the black cloak that Fiora was wearing. When she joined her queen’s side, she saw what had distracted the other.
“A sewage drain,” Capriella observed, holding her hand over her nose. It was a large hole in the side of the small hill, with just a trickle of muddied waters coming out to greet them. But its most telling sign was the smell, a strong odor that had their noses crinkling. The Sevelyn’s face darkened as she came to realize what the bitter-sweet discovery meant. They had found their way in. It just wasn’t a very pleasant one.
Their battered boots dripped with muck. Once they were in the village, it was simple enough to evade the guards; they only had to watch out for the light of their torches. It was Capriella’s past life as an orphan and occasional thief that gave her the advantage of slipping through alleyways and avoiding the sentries. She had taken her shoes off and instructed Fiora to do the same, so they didn’t leave any wet prints behind that might reveal them. It ended up taking them the better part of an hour to weave, zig-zag, and backtrack away from the paths of patrol before they found a tavern where they might stay.
“Quick, set your pack down here,” Capriella said, then untied the cloak to rummage through the contents. It didn’t matter what she chose, any of the treasures she had taken with them would be a horrendous overpayment, but it didn’t matter. She could sell something from the trove properly when things were more convenient.
The owner was more than happy to receive the dazzling gold necklace Capriella had chosen. Hanging from one of the thick links was a red gem that gleamed under his eye. It was almost enough of a distraction to save them from further scrutiny, but the town’s mood was somber and wary. Most were holed up at home, some were out on the street, protecting what was theirs. An ever fewer were here, enjoying a drink as if that might make the trouble go away. The man examined the two of them cautiously before a glint of recognition flashed over his face when he saw the queen’s silver bangs and green eyes. He handed the key over.
“No trouble will come to you,” he said in a low voice. And even quieter, “anything you need, my queen.”
“Thank you,” Fiora said, offering a small bow that surprised the man at first. He quickly recovered. The tavern wasn’t busy, but it wasn’t empty either and the owner could sense the need for discretion. Still, it wasn’t often when royalty made such a gesture to the peasant folk.
“Have a nice night,” he said, before turning to refill the drink of another patron.
The first thing Capriella wanted was to take a bath, but she allowed her queen the first turn. While Fiora bathed, the Sevelyn woman eyed the two beds with a mixed set of emotions. On one hand, it made the most sense. With her memories still missing, it might have been inappropriate to share a bed with her queen, who wouldn’t remember their shared intimacy.
Unfortunately, Capriella was growing weaker by the moment. It wouldn’t be long before she was just as vulnerable as any other mortal, and there was only one way to rectify that. To actually ask the question seemed impossible, though. She couldn’t very well just say ‘Hey, mind juicing me up?’ Not for something like that!
“Tough it out, Capriella,” she murmured to herself, but when Fiora entered the room she realized that was more easily said than done. The grime and dirt had all been washed away from the queen, and once again she looked pristine, even in the plain clothes Capriella had brought with them. Her peach skin looked silky smooth, and her silver hair shined lustrously under the light; Capriella might have drooled if she hadn’t made the effort to close her mouth.
“You look… refreshed, my lady,” she said, though the words ravishing and gorgeous came to mind first. Then she noticed that Fiora had changed her own bandages, replacing the dirty dress rags with strips of clean, white cloth she must have found or requested. The lack of blood on these was a good sign the wounds had closed.
“Thank you, Capriella,” the queen said, a smile lighting up the beautiful features of her face. “But I insist that you call me Fiora.” She had said as much many times in the past. It was a welcome habit
“I’m afraid one doesn’t simply forget the teachings of Madame Ervel,” the Sevelyn woman explained. “She was quite persistent about the proper formalities.”
Fiora nodded. She seemed to want to ask som
ething, most likely the obvious questions, Capriella noted. ‘Who is this Madame Ervel? What is she to me? Where is she now?’ But the queen held her tongue and allowed Capriella to take her bath.
And it was sublime. The tub might have been smaller than what had been at the Ivory Palace, but it didn’t diminish the experience in the least. By the time she was done, the hot water she drained away was a murky brown. She was glad to have it all off her.
When she returned to the room, still toweling off her hair, she was surprised to see that Fiora had been waiting for her. The queen stood up from the edge of the bed as soon as she stepped a foot inside.
“Capriella.”
“My lady?”
Fiora chewed on her lip briefly, a nervous gesture before she steeled herself to get the words out. “I must apologize. I’ll admit, at first, I wasn’t sure what to make of you and your stories. It seemed… impossible to be a queen and not remember it. To be lovers and have no memory for it. But then, the tavern owner,” Fiora said, pausing to look up and off to the side in thought. “He confirmed one thing for me. As for the other; I’ll confess it. I have been feeling this… pull towards you. Something about that tells me I can trust you.”
“You can, my lady,” Capriella said with a hopeful smile.
Fiora returned it when she met the Sevelyn woman’s gaze again. “Then I shall put my faith in your judgement, if you’ll take the burden. Whatever you think we should do, I will do without protest.”
‘Gods, just take me now, you beautiful woman,’ Capriella wanted to blurt, and it seemed like the golden opportunity to do so. She just couldn’t bring herself to be so brazen. Instead, she went with the more logical, but lame, course of action. “I think what’s best for now is that we get some rest.”
Sleep was hard to come by. Capriella lay awake on her bed, staring idly at the room’s ceiling while her problems kept her up. Dyssa would know of their survival by now, of that she was sure. Fiora was in no state to defend herself against another Ankhor, especially one equipped with five Sevelyn girls. Six now, she reminded herself. Things just kept getting better.