Cornucopia

by Debra Dunbar

  He finally looked up at me, setting the stone back in the box. “You can’t, though. You’ll never be her. If it was just something kinky, I would probably fall right into your arms, but my fantasies are about someone in particular.”

  Ah, a long lost love. “No, I can’t be that person. But I can play the part. If you have a need for closure, or want those fantasies you dream about every night to manifest I’ll oblige. Sometimes an imitation can be just as satisfying as the real thing.”

  He shook his head and touched the amulet around his neck. “I can’t.”

  I’d thrown it out there. If he wasn’t willing, I wasn’t going to press it. “I did some minor modifications to your plants in the field. The genetic modification will hold true to future crops, unlike most hybrids, but let me know if you begin to see a reduced harvest. I’ll see what the dwarf lady has to say, and hopefully I can get you a few alternative crops. In six months or so I’ll come back and see what else I can do to help.”

  He smiled. “Thanks, although I’m not sure what else you can do. I know we should leave. We probably will if the high elves don’t come back. It’s hard. For most of us Hel is the only home we know. And for me…magic is all I have. What would I do outside of Hel, deliver pizzas for a living?”

  “I think you’re underestimating yourself. My sister, Nyalla, was my changeling. She was a slave in Hel from infancy until she was almost nineteen. It wasn’t easy for her, but she’s carved out a life for herself. She’s happy. And some magic does work on the other side of the gates. Someone with your skills wouldn’t be delivering pizzas.”

  He sighed. “Maybe. I think everyone just needs time to see if we can make this work. And if we can’t, time to reconcile themselves to what we need to do.”

  I nodded and turned to leave. “You know how to reach me. I mean it – if you need me to come back before six months, let me know. I feel bad leaving you all with just some roots and a few other plants to feed a whole town full of people. So please let me know if you need me to come back and help.”

  I made my way back to the room with the book, pulling some dehydrated vegetables from another cupboard and stuffing a few in my mouth. They were sort of like bland, salt-free potato chips. Not great, but they’d satisfy my hunger. Not that they’d satisfy my other hunger. The work I’d done out in the field today had me drained and tired. I wouldn’t be able to do much more without additional energy, but Kirby was right – none of the humans I’d met today would remotely consider sex with someone who looked like an elf.

  “Amber?”

  I turned around to see that Kirby had come into the room, a determined look in his eyes.

  “I think…I mean, I know you need more energy. And maybe…you won’t laugh?”

  As if I would ever laugh at someone’s fantasies. I reached out to touch Kirby’s arm, and sensed something – something I hadn’t felt from him before. I looked at his neck, at the collar of his robe and saw that the amulet wasn’t there.

  Chapter 3

  “You took it off? Kirby, are you sure? I don’t want you to regret sharing with me. And showing me your fantasies doesn’t mean you are obligated to let me fulfill them. It’s always your decision. Always.”

  He took a deep breath, then let it out. “I...yes. I want what you have to offer. I mean, if you still want to. Because if you don’t, that’s fine. I’ll understand.”

  Sheesh, this poor guy. What did he want that embarrassed him so? “The offer is always open, Kirby, as long as it’s something I’m actually able to fulfill. I won’t read you, though. You need to reach out to me. You need to show me, if you really want this.”

  He closed his eyes and visions flooded my mind – Kirby’s fantasies. I slowed my breathing, struggling to control my impulses. “Do you…do you want this? I’m probably going to be here for a few days, then back regularly in the future. I’m not her. I can play the part, but will you be able to work with me afterward and see that I’m Amber? Can you separate me from the fantasy?”

  “Yes. I mean, you don’t look like her, not really. At first, there was a resemblance, but now that I know you I see you as Amber. I don’t know if you can do it. I don’t know if you really can fulfil this fantasy or not, but I want to try.”

  Fair enough. I just needed to make something very clear. “I can’t be the real thing. I can only be an imitation. Is that something you want?”

  “Yes. It’s all I’ll ever have, and it’s better than nothing. I know what I said before. I…changed my mind. You need the energy, and in all honesty, if I’m going to have a succubus or an incubus fulfill my fantasies, I want it to be you and not some full demon that can’t even assume a convincing elven form.”

  He just stood there as I lifted my hand to his cheek. The details of his fantasies took shape in my mind and I realized exactly why Kirby had kept this locked away, why he’d taken such care to craft and wear the amulet.

  “Do you know what I want? Do you?” His face grew warm under my fingers, his gaze sliding away from mine. He was embarrassed. But there was no need for him to be embarrassed. We all had needs, and there was nothing shameful in what he desired.

  Then I felt myself shimmer, change, just as I did when I crossed the gates. Kirby gasped. “Lady Aeoa. Amber, you look exactly like her right now. Exactly.”

  I more than looked like her, I was becoming her, falling into the role he needed me to play.

  My fingers stroked along his jaw down to his chin. “I’ve watched you, Kirby. I’m very impressed by the progress you’ve made since you came here. Someday you’ll be a sorcerer, one of the very few who hasn’t been training since infancy.”

  He stood ramrod straight, his gaze focused respectfully downward even though I held his chin. As emotionless and disciplined as his stance was, I could feel his breath hitch, his heart skip a beat. He’d lived for almost two decades craving this elven woman’s notice, her recognition. He’d desperately wanted to stand out from the crowd of human mages in training. He’d wanted her praise. And he’d always wanted more.

  Still holding his chin, I slid my thumb up to brush along his lower lip. “I’ve watched you, watched your hands as you carved wands and wondered what those hands would feel like on me. I’ve watched as you said the incantations, and wondered what my name would sound like on your lips in a moment of passion, what those lips would feel like on mine.”

  His heartbeat galloped, but all the while he kept his eyes downcast. He was just a lowly human, one mage among many. He couldn’t ever approach an elven woman with such base desires. It would be up to the elf to seduce him. And that’s exactly what I planned to do.

  I released his chin and stepped back. For an instant, Kirby’s gaze shot to mine, filled with longing and desperation before dropping downward again.

  I took quick advantage and yanked the t-shirt over my head along with my bra, then shimmied out of my jeans and underwear. That was the one of two discordant notes in my portrayal of this fantasy – I hadn’t had time to attire myself properly. Best to get naked as quickly as possible to keep the illusion alive. There was nothing I could do about my inability to speak Elvish, but at least I could ditch the human clothing.

  “Look at me. Don’t insult my beauty by averting your eyes. Look, and drink your fill of me.” Kirby’s eyes widened at the sight of the clothes on the floor, then his gaze slowly traveled up my body, taking in every inch of me.

  When he’d halted at my chest, I took a step forward and took his hand, placing it on one of my breasts. “These hands that work such magic. Let them work their magic on me.”

  He groaned, his fingers tightening an instant before they began to explore the soft skin, feeling the weight of my breast in his palm, then tracing the curve before brushing against my nipple. I stepped closer, angling my body so his erection rubbed the fabric of his cloak against me. Taking his other hand, I placed it on the small of my back, then leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

  “I know you won’t disap
point me, Kirby,” I murmured against his mouth. “All of your life, you’ve exceeded my every expectation. Kiss me. Worship me with your hands, with your mouth. Fill me.”

  He did as commanded, deepening the kiss. His fingers rolled my nipple, while his other hand shifted lower, caressing my backside. Reaching low, he pulled my hips against his before reaching between the back of my thighs to stroke my sex. It was an awkward position, my back arched at a crazy angle, but I needed to ensure he could touch all he wanted to touch.

  He was hard as granite pushing the fabric of his robe against me. I worried this might be a fast ride for him. Kirby deserved so much more. He’d be fueling me with energy for the rest of his life, I wanted the fantasy that spurred our encounter to be slow and languorous, elegant and pristine. His desire for this elven woman went far beyond professional approval and sex. He’d seen her as an unobtainable goddess. When I’d told him to worship my body, I wasn’t far off. For Kirby, this was an act of worship, it was the culmination of over two decades of reverence. For him, the joining of our bodies, the pleasure he gave and received, transcended the flesh. It allowed him to touch the one thing he’d always sought after in his magic – divinity.

  I gave that to him. Our lovemaking was slow. Kirby kissed and touched as though he were at a temple. As hard as he was, he held back, exploring every inch of my body, bringing me to orgasm all while he remained fully clothed.

  Was this all he wanted? To give everything to this elven woman, to serve her without the hint of selfish release on his part? I searched his fantasy and saw that he wanted more, but didn’t know how to proceed without turning something sacred into just regular sex.

  I smiled benevolently, like a goddess bestowing a favor on her cherished pet. “Are you to deprive me of your manhood, Kirby? Deny me what I desire?”

  His gaze dropped again, cheeks scarlet. “I can’t. I can’t do that to you. I can’t.”

  “Then I will have to do that to you. Sit in the chair.”

  He took a step back and hesitated. My voice grew firm. “Kirby, sit. Sit and lift your robe so I may see you.”

  “Yes, my Lady,” he stuttered. The mage backed up until I thought he would fall over the chair. Then he dropped into it, his hands shaking as he lifted the hem of the robe up to rest on his lap.

  Sheesh. This poor guy must be in agony. I walked toward him with a sway of my hips, watching a pearl bead at the end of his cock. “You are to remain silent except for my name. Is that understood? I only want to hear my name.”

  He nodded, eyes still downcast. “Lady Aeoa.”

  “Lovely,” I purred, reaching a finger out to stroke up his shaft. He jumped against my touch, his hands balled into tight fists at his side. Pausing a second, I gathered the drop on my finger and brought it up to my nipple. “You bring me gems, Kirby. Gems with which I can adorn myself.”

  His jaw clenched, his eyes lifting to stare once more at my breasts. Slowly I straddled him, my hands on the back of the chair on either side of his head. I lowered until he was lightly pressed against my opening, then I rocked my hips, letting him feel the soft wetness.

  “Lady Aeoa,” he gasped.

  I eased downward, pausing every few inches to lift up before dropping further. Finally, my pelvis met his and I rested my weight lightly on him. “Kirby, put your hands around me, hold my hips. I want to feel your hands on me.” He did and I leaned forward, kissing him, pulling his lower lip with my teeth before pulling away.

  “Look at me Kirby. I need to see your eyes. I need to know that you live to serve me.”

  His gaze shot to mine and I began to move up and down, rocking my hips with each stroke. His fingers tightened on my rear and I let go of the chair, sitting upright and supporting my entire weight with the muscles of my thighs. My pace increased and I tightened the muscles in my pelvic floor, gripping him tight. His face was red, his fingers digging into my rear, but his eyes never left mine. I saw the struggle there, the desire to have this moment never end. Watching his eyes, I lifted my hands to my breasts and stroked my nipples. He shuddered, thickening inside me, but still he held back.

  “I want you to come, Kirby. Give me your gift.” I drove him deep inside, rocking my hips against him. He came, Lady Aeoa’s name like a litany on his lips. And then he slumped against the chair, completely spent. I saw a tear at the edge of his closed eyelid and bent down to taste it, kissing him lightly on his forehead as I rose.

  “Skilled in so many things,” I murmured. “You please me, Kirby. As you have with everything you’ve done in your life, you please me.”

  Then I gathered my clothes from the floor and slipped out, automatically shifting back into my Amber appearance once I was in the hallway. Kirby never opened his eyes, the only thing moving was the rise and fall of his chest.

  And that was how it should be. A goddess never stoops to retrieve fallen clothes, never slips out the door with wet trailing down her leg. A goddess just vanishes into the night, as a warm spring breeze, perfect in her divinity.

  Chapter 4

  I slept soundly, barely aware of Rutter coming into the room late at night and curling up in a lavender ball in an overstuffed chair. When I awoke, I felt like a new woman. I was humming with energy, ready to take on the world, ready to modify the genetic structure of hundreds of plants.

  Rutter gave me a curious look, but didn’t mention whether he noticed the difference in me or not. There was a basket of muffins outside my door and a bottle of milk, so the pair of us went downstairs and ate in the back room that seemed to serve as both a dining room and a horribly under-furnished kitchen. It was nice, sitting at the long wooden table with a purple-scaled, snouted demon devouring fruit and nut muffins and alternating swigs from the bottle of milk.

  “Miss Amber?” Crumbs fell from the demon’s mouth as he spoke. “What’s it like the other side of the gates? I’ve never been.”

  I thought for a moment. “There are humans everywhere. In the cities, you can’t walk down the street without seeing dozens if not hundreds of them. They use metal boxes on wheels to transport themselves at great speed – faster than an elf can run. And for long distances, they have metal flying devices that transport hundreds of humans.”

  Rutter took a drink of milk, wiping his lower lip with the side of his arm. “Are the humans nice? Do they like demons? Do they like Lows?”

  “They don’t know demons exist. The ones they meet are in human form and I guess they think of them as somewhat psychotic humans.”

  He sighed. “So I couldn’t go there like this? I can’t Own. I can’t change my form. But I’d love to go see the humans and their world.”

  I thought about the panic Rutter would cause with his lavender scales and snout, but didn’t have the heart to smash the little guy’s dreams. “Maybe someday. Things are changing there. It’s possible that soon you might be able to go there as you are and be accepted.”

  He crammed another muffin in his mouth. “I would like that. Would you guide me, Miss Amber? Would you show me how to drive the metal boxes and live in the cities?”

  I envisioned myself playing tour guide to Rutter and couldn’t help but smile. “Absolutely. When the time is right for you to cross the gates, I’ll show you all the cool sites.”

  The Low grinned and nodded, his snout bouncing as he finished off the milk. I liked him. And I meant what I said. If he was ever able to cross the gates and walk around in his current form, I’d show him the Washington Monument, take him to the Smithsonian and the National Harbor. We’d have fun.

  We were finishing up when I heard Kirby out in the shop. I wondered if things would be awkward between us. I tended to keep my succubus activity to partners I’d never see again with very few exceptions. This was kind of a peculiar circumstance, though.

  I shouldn’t have worried. Kirby acted as though last night had never happened, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, part of his casual demeanor might have been because he had a customer.

  He was a ma
n that looked to be in his early thirties with a thick, curly, brown beard that looked softer than mink, and shoulder-length hair a shade lighter. He was about five feet tall and stood at one of the long tables, inspecting a row of wands.

  A dwarf? I hated to assume. Back home this man would have been considered a shade on the tall side for an LP, but here in Hel I didn’t know. Was he a human born with dwarfism, or a dwarf-dwarf?

  “Andor, did you want another illusion scroll?” Kirby asked the man as Rutter translated for me. “I’m bagging the herbs you wanted right now, and I have the spelled gems in the back.”

  The man gave a polite nod. “Better make it two. Lart likes to have a back-up scroll on hand, just in case.”

  He hadn’t looked at either me or Rutter. I stood there for a moment while Rutter went to paw through a basket of yarn. Kirby sealed up the bag of herbs, shooting me a quick, apologetic smile. “I’ll be right back.”

  And now I was alone, standing right next to the man who hadn’t glanced my way, hadn’t acknowledged my presence. I was beginning to feel slighted. I know it sounds vain, but back home I was used to a certain amount of attention from others. At the very least a side-eye. This man acted as though I wasn’t even in the room. Was it because I looked like an elf? Was the legendary rivalry between the two races a reality here in Hel?

  “Hi,” I blurted out unable to take the silence any longer. “I’m Amber. This probably sounds rude, but are you a dwarf?”

  Ugh. What a thing to say. Why had my charm, my manners, flown right out the window with this guy? The man looked at me in surprise. Rutter left the basket of yarn and jumped in to translate.

  “I’m Andor Clawhammer of Clan Clawhammer. And yes, I am a dwarf.”

  His reply wasn’t frosty or mean, but it wasn’t warm either. The man’s tone reminded me of someone on hold for nearly an hour, reciting his account number and current address to a call center representative.