“On the other hand, you’ll attend me with the same care and effort I show you, won’t you? You’re not going to leave me dissatisfied?”
“I ought to tease, tease, and tease you till you’re on the precipice of begging because nothing else works,” Leyla said and stared down at the top which clung tighter to Fayeth’s chest after it had gotten wet.
“Do your worst,” she said, squeezed her arms together to accentuate the size of her breasts, and flicked her tongue across the tip of Leyla’s nose. “Petty revenge entertains you more than sex.”
Leyla faced the challenge head-on by pulling Fayeth out of the water and on top of her. She couldn’t help giggling as the girl embraced her and demonstrated who could dominate who, if they so choose.
They rolled around, wrestled, to determine who would have what position. Of course, Fayeth didn’t stand much of a chance. She had to content herself with being pinned to the landing, for as long as Leyla preferred to be on top. She couldn’t force a retreat when she lacked the physical strength to exert her will on her enemy. And she wasn’t about to beg the girl for mercy.
She doubted she could speak when giggling anyway. A newfound joy allied itself against her and joined forces with Leyla. Fayeth lost her luxurious top faster than she lost the short battle. Leyla only struggled with it for a few seconds before she gave up on trying and tore the fabric.
The spring’s hot water flowed back and forth against Fayeth’s body, tugged on the strands of her torn top, while Leyla slid her fingers along the bare curves of her chest. The treasures the girl had uncovered entranced her once she’d broken their azure seal.
To claim a victory of her own, Fayeth moved the palm of her hand across Leyla’s navel and into her underwear. The girl gasped at the ambush, shook, and forgot the territory she’d claimed long enough for Fayeth to grow irritated with how poorly prepared her enemy was.
She wrapped her slender legs around Leyla’s waist, caressed the weak spot under her palm, and attempted to get back on top. Leyla quivered and melted like ice onto her palm, but she did not budge even a little bit when Fayeth tried to pull her over with her legs. She’d only gained new information about how vulnerable the girl was, not bested her, but it allowed her to claim a true victory by sliding two of her fingers into Leyla’s unexplored vault.
The girl moaned, convulsed, and her expression became pure bliss. Fayeth suspected she’d won the war, but she didn’t stop her attack on Leyla’s sex. She’d never touched a woman like this before, and she wished to discover every little sound she could pull from the girl’s throat by touching her between her legs.
Soon though, Leyla recovered her strength. And when she did, she began to grind against Fayeth’s hand, moved her sex up and down along her wrist. It made it difficult for Fayeth to know where to touch, but the girl took her mind of the problem by kissing her collarbone, toying urgently with her treasures, and sucking her stiff nipples into her mouth.
Ecstasy the likes of which she’d not experienced in centuries conquered Fayeth. She surrendered to her lover’s intense greed, and wished it would always feel as gratifying to lose.
An Empire for You
Stone towers stretched up into the cloudy sky to greet dawn. Beams of sunlight shifted across their surfaces, and bared their cracks and irregularities to the world, yet they didn’t waver. The towers stood proud and indomitable.
Leyla awakened sore and satisfied in a bed made of clouds at the massive bases of the towers. She didn’t recall falling asleep, but she supposed she must have done so at some point. She would swear with certainty that she’d never left the spring under the ruins though, so this must be another dream.
Fayeth stirred and scattered parts of their cloud blankets to the winds. The elven beauty smiled groggily at Leyla, pulled her into a hug, and rested her head on her chest. Wherever they were in this dream, Leyla doubted she would be shown anything which would leave as strong an impression on her heart as Fayeth’s snowy hair strewn across the training scars on her torso.
At least until she heard a deafening roar that caused the towers around them to quake and crumble. Large chunks of stone came loose, tumbled through cloud after cloud before they disappeared into the abyss beneath.
Under normal circumstances her first instinct would have been to reach for her sword, but with Fayeth so close and vulnerable, she laid her arms around the elf. She hugged her hard enough that she couldn’t tell whose heart pounded in whose chest.
“A dream, no more,” Fayeth whispered against Leyla’s neck. “Courtesy of the spirit. She won.”
“Are you sure it’s harmless?” Leyla didn’t know a lot about the realm of dreams, but when they’d first met, Fayeth had choked her, and it had hurt. If the elf had intended to kill her then, she may have succeeded.
“This spirit doesn’t want us dead, so yes, you’re safe.”
“I’m worried about you, not myself. I can fight.”
The beating of immense wings scattered every cloud in the vicinity of the bed and revealed their intertwined legs to the sunlight and the sky. The sound was so deafening that she couldn’t hear what Fayeth said when she moved her lips. She only saw the elf laugh.
Her grandfather had told her tales as a child about the creatures which burst out of the abyss around the bed next, but she’d never imagined they would be quite so immense. Even in a dream, the pale, golden dragon and its ashen companion inspired a dread which rivaled the worst memories of her life.
It took an astounding amount of time for the entirety of the dragons’ bodies to come into view, and by then, she’d calmed down because it had become evident they were passing by. They were involved in their own mating ritual as they circled and clawed at each other without interest in her or Fayeth. She was an insignificant fly.
“You believe you can fight them?” Fayeth shouted.
The ashen dragon knocked over one of the stone towers in its path, but kept soaring higher as if it didn’t care about the damage it caused when that tower toppled, collided with its neighbor, and brought another three down.
Stones fell around them, yet none struck the bed. If a stone of that size had landed on them, they would have been crushed into a fine powder.
Leyla shrugged and donned a grin which she hoped looked confident. “They’re no bears, but for you, I’ll do my utmost. Just don’t expect me to return in one piece.”
Fayeth grabbed her chin, kissed her tenderly, and pushed her tongue past Leyla’s lips. “I’d never give you an order which sent you to your death. I’ve made that mistake thousands of times already…”
A couple of the queen’s tears landed on Leyla’s chest. She dried them with her thumb, licked it clean, and tasted heaven. “I’d forgive you, if my death was for a good cause I believed in. Don’t you think the elves that died under your command would do the same, if they could?”
She hadn’t meant to make Fayeth weep, and she didn’t know what to do when she did. Leyla could only hold the queen close and stroke her back.
The dragons flew towards the horizon, joined by a smattering of vibrant birds, and Leyla wondered what her grandfather would have said if he could have seen her. She regretted how he’d died before she met Fayeth.
Even if she may have hid the truth of their relationship from him, in the beginning, she would have liked for them to meet. He would have shown the queen the most compassionate soul of humanity.
Unwelcome Visit
Fayeth walked on clouds for hours after she’d slept with Leyla. Every once in a while, when she thought she was alone at home, a gentle breeze would caress her in the wrong spot, and she’d shiver uncontrollably because the sensation reminded her of the girl’s nimble fingers. She longed to have them inside her again.
At one point, Syvis happened to enter their kitchen at an inopportune moment, and though she didn’t comment on her mother’s weird trembling, she stared. Fayeth didn’t know how to explain what had happened to her daughter, but she feared she might have to,
sooner or later, since Leyla lived on in her heart.
“The humans will be difficult to stop if we don’t act soon,” Syvis said and skipped morning pleasantries. “I can travel to the next village along their path, warn them, but I think we ought to deal with the humans ourselves. It’s our duty.”
“It’s my duty,” Fayeth said, grabbed the cup of herbal tea she’d prepared, and sat at the table. A friend of hers, a woodworker, had gifted the table to her on one of her numerous birthdays. He’d carved it in the shape of an oak leaf.
“You don’t have to carry the burden alone, mother.” Syvis leaned against the wall, next to a painting of the meadow of the dead. “I can ride Eina. I can warn our brethren. What if they’re caught unaware because we didn’t?”
“No elf will stumble into a human caravan by accident, and the Freow Woods are on our side, so if the humans try to ambush us in our own country, they’ll fail.” Fayeth sipped on her tea, which proved quite hot.
Syvis tugged on her hair and stomped her foot. “Mother, I—“
“Fine!” Fayeth wished they would not argue whenever they saw each other these days. She missed going fishing with her daughter, but she supposed Syvis had grown out of it. They hadn’t done it in months. “Do it, you can leave now. Eina will bring you to Atrin in a matter of hours.”
Syvis’ face lit up, beamed with excitement, and backed out of the kitchen as fast as she could like she feared Fayeth would withdraw her permission if she didn’t hurry.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She shouted as she disappeared out of their home.
Fayeth sipped her tea, somewhat confused by Syvis reaction. If she didn’t know better, she would think her daughter had met a lover herself, and they lived in Atrin. Hopefully, Syvis wasn’t so bloodthirsty that she’d leap with joy at an opportunity to fight humans.
Either way, Fayeth could use the time her daughter was gone to pack another basket with food for Leyla. The girl didn’t seem useless in the wild, but Fayeth would rather have her eating berries and mushrooms than hunting animals. She didn’t want to offend the spirits by giving Leyla too many liberties in their domain. The girl remained her prisoner, in a sense, even if Fayeth had never told her that part of their arrangement.
The painting of the meadow on the wall made her consider whether she should return there or not. Maybe if she sought new guidance, or carried out a sacrifice, the dead would show understanding and not resent her for recent choices. How could she ever confess to them what she’d done with a human? Would they think less of her because Leyla was a girl? She hadn’t known most of those who rested in the soil of the meadow as well as she should. Simply because they were too many.
She blew on her tea to cool the liquid. What if Leyla was right? What if every elf who’d died under her banner would forgive her because they’d believed in the cause they’d fought for? She hadn’t forced anyone into war. The humans had refused to negotiate. They’d had no reason to use diplomacy, since they’d always seemed to have the upper hand.
What if the dead hated her, not because they’d died while she’d been queen, but for her weakness? For accepting defeat, and for disrespecting them by not championing their cause until she’d drawn her own last breath.
She may not have disappointed a single one of them until she’d chosen to go on alone. If Fayeth hadn’t gotten pregnant with Syvis, she would gladly have mounted a final stand, outfitted an army with the last of the elves, and ridden into the villages of Algora.
“You’ll go from sadness to sadness.” Furore appeared in the chair on the other side of the table and made Fayeth recoil by pointing the tip of the glass knife in her face. She almost spilled her tea across her lap.
“I’ve done what you asked, why are you here!”
She had a bow and a knife in her bedroom, but they were too far away to be useful. Her staff leaned against the wall in the hallway. She could see its gnarled tip peeking around the corner.
“Oh.” Furore shrugged. “I thought you would like my help with your very mortal, very short-lived, lover. Remember? You told me you couldn’t love her because she would die centuries before you.”
She didn’t want to think about Leyla’s death. She’d only slept with her for the first time a day ago. Why couldn’t Furore leave them alone for a decade or two?
“So?” Fayeth sipped the tea which had cooled a little. “Have you found an option, or do you simply enjoy disrupting my peace and quiet?”
“You think too little of me.” Furore grinned. “I have an option which I know you’ll both like, but since you jumped into bed sooner than I predicted, I’ve decided to rescind my offer. I won’t sweeten our deal. If you want Leyla to live forever, you’ll have to give me someone else.” Furore stopped grinning and scratched her chin on the glass knife. “Someone you made me swear I wouldn’t touch, but who is stumbling about in my new domain.”
“Syvis…? Are you serious, fiend?” Fayeth gripped the cup in her hands so hard that it should have shattered.
“It’s not my fault.” Furore raised her hands in a dismissive gesture. “I’m new to this job. I did not think my predecessor had to fill a predetermined quota.” She burst out laughing. “Like, where does the list come from? What kind of being has the right to order someone with my power around?”
Fayeth lost her patience and threw the cup at the spirit. “Get out!”
Furore swatted the cup to the side with her knife, it crashed into the pantry and shattered against the wood. Tea spilled everywhere.
“Sure, sure. Calm your tits.” Furore leaned back in her chair, eyed Fayeth’s chest, and grinned like she had a secret she planned to gossip to everyone about. “They’re really nice, by the way. I thought they’d be saggier than—“
“Get out of my home, leave my daughter alone,” Fayeth said. “I don’t want your help with Leyla. I don’t need your help with Syvis.”
“Okay then. It’s a busy life, filling in for the goddess of love.” Furore rose to her feet, shrugged, then she leaned across the table and extended her wings partly to demonstrate that she would not be ordered around by the likes of her. “When you do realize what you’ve condemned Syvis, Leyla, and yourself to, fall to your knees and beg me for mercy. Beg like you’ve never begged anyone in your life. Put on a show like the human did. You see, if your begging proves inadequate, I’ll at least attend to watch you strip.”
Fayeth stared into the spirit’s evil eyes, stayed silent, and wished Furore would leave without an actual fight. Eventually, she vanished. One second Fayeth stared at the succubus, and the next, she stared at the painting on the wall.
The spirit almost made her regret sleeping with Leyla. The human would die, one day, and likely much sooner than her. Fayeth worried about her daughter too after the visit, but she wasn’t clear on what Furore meant to accomplish by involving Syvis.
Eastward
Nearly two days passed without a longer visit from Fayeth. Even though Leyla would have loved to stay in the ruin and wait for the queen to find a slot in her busy schedule, she should go east. She didn’t care if the rest of Herielas’ procession arrived in Xenthien or not, but if she didn’t, the shackles of Algora would keep her chained in the woods. She would fail to accomplish the goal she’d set for herself.
Besides, she imagined Fayeth would be more open to listening to her problem after they’d been intimate. If the elf blocked her way, Leyla would explain everything. She wouldn’t lie or hide important details. Only boredom awaited her if she delayed her journey too long. Fayeth had to understand.
Sometimes, in moments of ennui, when she dared to be honest with herself, and listen to her heart, she might admit that she felt like a prisoner under Fayeth’s care. A well-treated and cherished prisoner, but a prisoner nonetheless. Not a guest.
She didn’t want to give Fayeth the wrong idea either. She had left home to find freedom. Sex was a distraction, and wistfully, she doubted the elf could love her as an equal. Partly because Fayeth had rul
ed people as their queen, and partly because no one could compare to someone as incredible as her.
Leyla sure couldn’t. Perhaps she’d return after she’d experienced a few adventures of her own and made a name for herself. If she could carve out her own legend in the world, they may become somewhat close to equals.
Fayeth would outlive her anyway. Leyla could add another decade or two to her twenty odd years, and she would still be nowhere near Fayeth’s age. She’d never heard a thing about a war between humans and elves when she’d grown up in Algora, so who knew how long ago Fayeth had ruled? A decade or two for her might be the equivalent to a week for Leyla. Fayeth wouldn’t miss her presence.
To strengthen her resolve, and commit to her decision, Leyla set out in search of a hill or an open field late one night. She didn’t know how to find east when she couldn’t see the sun from under the canopies of the trees, and truthfully, she hadn’t done a lot better when the sun had shone straight on her forehead in the past either.
But her grandfather had taught her how to navigate with the stars’ assistance. If she could find a certain star, the one which shone the brightest in the night sky, she could find north. If she found north, she found east. Simple.
She should have asked Fayeth for a new sword or knife to defend herself with though. Skulking through the Freow Woods, while its denizens slept, set all her senses on edge. She listened for the quietest sound, jumped whenever a wolf howled in the distance, and stiffened when she crushed branches with her foot.
The forest lay dark, much too dark to see far, but she suspected it might make it easier to slip through the cracks of the queen’s defenses if she left in the middle of the night. If Fayeth had sent someone to watch Leyla, and warn her when she tried to go east, they might be less successful when everyone slept.
Queen of Peace Page 5