The Choosing

by Darcy Sweet

  Lady Vere met my eyes with a raised brow. Behind her the young blonde broke into a broad grin, biting his lip as if trying to stop himself from laughing. “You are correct,” she said to my surprise, “There is no need for Hatha to explain herself further.” She raised a finger, bringing it close, but not touching my chest. “But you Talia, once of Hawthorne Shire recently of the Night Palace, have very much to explain.”

  She turned on her heel, gave a slight nod to the young man who accompanied her and strode out the door. In a serious voice that did not match his playful grin he proclaimed, “You will present yourself to the Council tonight, ten o’clock.” After a quick check over his shoulder to make sure that Lady Vere had gone he added, “Please, don’t be late. I for one can’t wait to see you in action.”

  I smiled back at him. He winked and left the room with Lena and Fa following.

  Hatha sighed, sank down to the cot and placed her head in her hands.

  “This is not going well,” she said.

  I sat down beside her, too weary to be concerned by the tide of events. Loosely draping an arm across her shoulders I gave a soft derisive laugh and said, “Oh Hatha, when has it ever?”

  * * * *

  Hatha took it upon herself to prepare me for The Council meeting. I let her do whatever she wanted to my body without protest. She was frantic, muttering to herself as she dragged me along cave like hallways to an unknown destination. I was beyond the point of caring. I thought of myself as a raft cut free, adrift in the stream. I could not fight the flow. I would be carried wherever the flow took me no matter what I did. So I succumbed. Succumbed to the power of fate and let it carry me away.

  Our final destination pleased me to no end.

  A hot spring.

  Public bathing rooms. I could have danced in delight at the sight. Hatha led me over to a flat rock in the corner, next to a small pool. She stripped me. There were three others in the bathing room at the same time as us. An older woman and two young women.

  “I need to purify you,” Hatha said.

  “How?” I questioned. Wondering if she was to once again come at me with a straight razor. She raised a brow at my distrustful tone. I matched her stare, refusing to back down. Hatha broke first with a rueful smile and a shake of her head. Motioning to the flat rock she gave an indulgent sigh and said, “It’s only a salt scrub Mistress. Lay down.”

  Salt scrub. That sounded so good. I wanted to be scrubbed clean, soul deep, of all the events of the last few weeks, but as that wasn’t possible a skin scrub would do for now. I lay flat on the rock. It did not occur to me that I had been standing naked in front of strangers until the cool smooth surface hit my breasts.

  Was it only last month I had never been naked in front of another? Even during my few and frantic couplings I had been clothed somehow—a chemise, stockings or a loose corset had remained on at all times. I came up on my elbow, cradling my head in my hand and looked about the baths. There were five women now, all staring at me with curious eyes.

  Hatha laid her hand between my shoulder blades and pushed me down. I submitted to the pressure and lay flat with my cheek flat to the rock. Warm hands rubbed gritty wet salt across my back. I sighed at the feel of the soft scrub. She worked with strong fingers digging into muscles still sore from the time in the swamp. Down my back, along the spine and dipping to the soft curves of my side she worked. My buttocks, my legs and finally my feet. Her strong hands pushed, rubbed and caressed.

  When her hands left my skin warm water soon followed, pouring across me in a steady beat, washing away the residue of the salt. With eyes still closed I rolled over and let her do the same to the front. She hummed as she worked—a tuneless sound of contentment. I found myself spellbound by the noise and the feel of her hands. I fell into a half sleep, an almost hypnotic state.

  After she had washed me clean she pulled me up to stand and urged me into the nearest pool. It was cold, not shockingly so but enough to wake me from my dream state. I dipped my head under the water and came out, smoothing the wet hair from my face as I broke the surface. There, in front of me was now a crowd of women. All silently watching me bathe. All young, they seemed to be in the range of child rearing age, but there were no children. All women. All watching. Me.

  I held up my hand and Hatha came forward to help me out of the water. I stepped out of the bathing pool and stood naked by the edge. “What do they want?” I asked, tilting my head closer to Hatha.

  “You my Vessel,” she murmured, “They feel your presence and have come to see you.”

  “Do what? They have come to see me do what?”

  “Whatever you feel Vessel. Do not think. Feel. Only feel. ” As she spoke she brought her hand to my arm and with oily fingertips began to trace patterns on my skin.

  “What are you doing?” I gasped as the feeling of her light touch rocketed through my body, tightening my nipples and dampening my sex.

  “Purifying you my Vessel. Preparing you for The Council.”

  My head fell back. I had to spread my feet to keep balance as an overwhelming surge of wanton need swept over me. Hatha knelt down at my feet before me, precariously close to the edge of the pool, her gown falling back into the water. I watched it billow, floating ice blue on the flat black of the rock colored water.

  Her fingers moved on my stomach. I looked down; she was painting me red with oily stain. Deep, brown red marked me in ochre symbols. Each touch like a lick to my sex, clenching my womb in wanting.

  “Oooooh,” I moaned and heard the sound echo in the crowd before me. I looked up at my watchers and met the eyes of a young woman in the front row. Long silver blonde hair fell across her shoulders, parted in the middle. She wore a simple white tunic, a modesty bathing gown. She looked pure, clean and virginal. Contrasting the innocence was a shocking desperate look of absolute sexual need that shone in her young eyes. She wanted me with a passion that matched my own. I could see it. I knew it right down to my throbbing sex.

  I want to see you naked.

  I wanted to see her pretty young body bared before me. I wanted to see her sex, wet and spread for my touch. I wanted…..

  To my shock she nodded. Eyes on me she stripped her tunic over her head and stood before me bare. Skin pink and clean. She was not yet marked by the Sarran tattoo. Blond fuzz covered her sex and her nipples were rosy pale and beaded tight. Sweet. She looked so sweet. Did she taste it too?

  She snaked a hand down the soft swell of her stomach into the blonde hair at the juncture of her thighs. I watched as she spread her thighs and slipped her fingers between her legs, wetting the tips with her juices.

  Glossy fingers she first showed me, offering her hand out over the water of the pool and then bringing them up to her mouth to slip them between her lips, sucking them clean.

  You. Come to me.

  I did not speak the words but they sounded loudly in my head. She nodded and stepped into the pool, walking through the cool water to me.

  Hatha shifted before the woman had stepped in the pool, as if she knew what was to come. She stood and helped the young woman out of the pool.

  “An offering,” Hatha said, “for The Vessel. Given in pleasure, taken in pleasure. You shall take and share the power.”

  She led us back to the flat rock. I lay flat, my back flush to the cool stone. I pulled her down to me, rosy pink and young. Her skin was flushed and warm as she slid over my body until her young handful breasts were pressed to mine. Nipples connected and sharp delicious pleasure shot from breast to sex.

  “Vessel,” she whispered in a soft puff of breath that vibrated on my lips.

  “Yes,” I answered, opening my mouth in an invitation she gladly took. The first time I had kissed a woman. Lips pillow soft, her taste divine. My tongue met hers in slow exquisite pleasure. Soft touches and flicks matching moans and gasps.

  I snaked my fingers into the soft curtain of her silver hair. Threading the fall through my hand and then grasping it into fists. She moaned
, liking the soft and then sharp bite of pain.

  My mouth moved down the curve of her neck as I pulled her head up with a vicious tug. I could see Hatha behind her, watching me, watching us.

  I bit down on the soft skin, marking the pulse point of her neck with my teeth. She writhed against me, pushing her sweet young sex against the bone of my pubis as she did. She straddled my hips, her wet slit rocking into the edge of the bone as she offered me her neck to mark once more. I bit down, my eyes on Hatha as I did, watching her flushed reaction to the moans.

  With hands on her shoulders I pushed her to sit up with a shove. She did, looking down at me with intense desire. I rocked up and watched her moan and writhe as I connected with the pulse of her aching sex. Her cup full breasts swayed and bobbed as she moved. I reached up, taking one in my hand, feeling the weight and then pinching the nipple between my finger and thumb. I twisted the nubbin until she wailed.

  Reaching between her legs, I dipped my fingers into her drenched slit. Oily, warm and slippery I brought them out to paint across the soft swell of her stomach. The symbols rose from her skin in a map seen only by me. I worked fast, dipping into her sex over and over as I painted her breasts, nipples, stomach and thighs with powerful marks of magic. The room buzzed with each swipe of my fingers on her skin. Over and over I felt her sex clench in orgasm as I dipped inside the warmth of her slit.

  Around me I heard moans; desperate sounds of panting wailing orgasm filled the room. Power rocked across me. I was the center, the center of all pleasure. When I had coated her in my spell I pulled her down to take her mouth.

  Give and take. Take and receive. The cycle of pleasure. Take and share the power. The words looped in my brain as I kissed her sweet young lips. I knew then how to complete my spell.

  I smoothed a hand down the soft curves of her side until I reached her thigh. Understanding my wordless command as I tapped her leg, she dismounted me. I came up on my elbow, smiled, and then reached forward to cup her sodden sex. Fingers wet with her release I brought up to paint my lips and then crooked my finger for her to come to me.

  She blushed and smiled. It pleased me that she was still bashful even after all we had just done. Her thighs straddled my face, soft skin brushing me as she did. The smell of her wanting enveloped me, her taste, her smell, her touch surrounded me in pleasure. My hands I brought up to cup her sweet arse. Skin like silk, warm and supple. I stroked with splayed fingers before gripping tight to pull her down to my mouth.

  I felt her face nestle between my thighs. I brought up my knees, spreading wide to give her room. Her mouth found my clitoris easily in the bare folds of flesh. She blew first, a hot puff of air that I reciprocated on her own swollen nubbin.

  As she tentatively licked me I dug my fingers into her arse, spreading the cheeks wide and pulling her closer. I tasted her to my satisfaction, leaving no inch bare of the swipe of my tongue. Her clit I sucked and flicked. Her slit I entered as deep as my tongue would allow, tasting deep into the musky heat. Maneuvering her by changing my grip, I tilted her forward to lick back to the rosy pucker at her rear. She gasped, tightened her thighs and rocked into my tongue. I flicked across the rosette and then stiffened and pushed my tongue as she clamped her thighs over my face.

  My own release was coming. I could feel it build, my stomach clenched and my thighs shook with the rising tension of unspent release. I paused in my pleasuring and lay back letting the feeling her mouth at my sex wash over me.

  Give and take. Take and receive. The cycle of pleasure. Take and share the power. I knew we had to come together. Complete the cycle with shared orgasm. I returned my mouth to her clit, flicking my tongue at the root of the swollen nubbin in a devastating rhythm, matching her.

  We bowed. As one we became a circle of orgasm. A flowing round of endless pleasure. My sex to her mouth, her sex to my mouth, we came as one. My release pulsed into her mouth, spurting in shocking, almost painful bursts as her sweet musky cum seeped over my lips.

  Hatha pulled her from me. I was glad of it because I had not the energy to move myself, let alone another. Through eyes slitted with pleasure I watched my young offering slip into the water of the pool. She looked back over her shoulder at me, a quick smiling shy glance, before dunking her head in the cool water.

  Hatha returned to help me up. I sat first on the edge of the rock before standing. The watching crowd parted to reveal the Lady Vere.

  How long had she been there? I wondered.

  “The Council meets now,” she said looking not at me but Hatha, “Askel awaits outside the bathing chamber to take you and your Mistress. Come without delay.”

  Heads bowed as she departed in the flurry of silver and royal blue. I watched, back straight and proud until she was out of sight, then I slumped and turned to Hatha.

  “What now?” I asked.

  “She knows you are The Vessel. There is no doubt.”

  I scoffed, a snort like sound. “There is still doubt Hatha. Perhaps not that I am The Vessel, but of what they want from me.”

  “How do you know they want something from you Mistress?”

  “They always do Hatha. They always do.”

  Chapter 6

  The Askel that Lady Vere spoke of was the same wicked blond man-boy who had accompanied her to my chambers. He grinned at the sight of me, all teeth and gums. His eyes skipped up and down my body, settling to ogle at my breasts, and in that moment of naughty joy seemed far more boy than man. I could hardly blame him for looking. Hatha seemed determined to keep me in a state of virtual undress. For once I gave no objection. I had, since accepting my role as The Vessel, lost all interest in my outward appearance. Not because of a spiritual transcendence—nothing as saintly as that—but because I sensed the futility of the battle. Better instead to devote my attention to the little I could control, and that was the strange power growing inside me, not my flimsy coverings.

  The latest flimsy coverings consisted of a sheer robe and not much else. My naked form and the ochre symbols Hatha had painted upon my body clearly showed through the light fabric—much to the delight of young Askel. I waved my hand to break the spell that had fixed Askel’s eyes to my breasts.

  “You did not come with Lady Vere?” I questioned, pointing back inside the bathing chambers.

  “Oh I came,” he said with a wicked smile, “But just not inside.”

  I laughed at his overt double entendre. He winked and swept his hand forward motioning for me to follow him down the hall. I held out my arm and he took it with a light touch.

  We walked together with Hatha following.

  “What do they want of me?”

  Askel came to a stop and looked from Hatha then back to me. He opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head as if deciding against it. “Tell me,” I urged, trying to compel him with my voice

  He nodded, and spoke quickly, “There are two camps. Two schools of thought if you will.”

  “And they are? What?”

  He sighed. “You have to realize Mistress; we have been hiding for a long time. Running in fear, it changes people… makes them desperate.”

  “And what do desperate people do?” I asked softly, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

  “Your presence here risks us. We know the Dark Prince searches for you. There are some who want you gone.”

  That came as no surprise. “And others? What do they want?”

  He turned away, not meeting my eyes as he spoke, “Others are tired of hiding. Tired of waiting in fear, they wish to use your power to reclaim the Sarran place in Vandarra.”

  “Use me.”A chuckle escaped. Looking back over my shoulder at Hatha I said, “What a shock.”

  Hatha, forever frustrated by my outbursts, frowned and shook her head.

  “And which desperate school currently holds power?” I asked, “Those who want me gone or those who wish to use me?”

  Askel looked back and forth between Hatha and me, opening and closing his mouth before spluttering, “I
do not know Mistress. I have said too much…”

  I held up my hand, cutting him off. “Fear not Askel I will not share your confidence. You have my word.”

  He sighed in relief and motioned down the hall. “We should go Mistress Vessel, they will be waiting for us.”

  We did not have much farther to go; Askel led us down a hallway to a set of heavy wooden double doors. They’d been carved to exactly fit the jagged jut of the rock walls. Time and care had put these in place. This was no makeshift arrangement. This was built to last. They’d been made by craftsmen who expected to stay underground indefinitely. Generations of people living in dark fear, no wonder they were desperate. I pondered what it must be like to eternally cower in the darkness. To be so ruled by fear that you carve a refuge deep in the earth, far from the light.

  Was the darkness sanctuary or prison? I wondered. Did they even know the difference?

  I looked at Hatha, marveling at how brave she must have been to leave the security of the Sarran refuge and search for her Anja. The bond they shared must have been stronger than fear, stronger than the need for safety.

  Love. A true love.

  It hurt to think of it. Their love. Jealousy stitched into my side. A stab of physical pain. I wanted it for myself, so desperately. Not specifically from Hatha. I would be happy just for something other than obligation from her. From someone, a love free of obligation, fear or strategy—a love of mine alone.

  Anja had both Roth and Hatha, and then also Nadar.

  What did I have? Nothing.

  Hatha gave me a tight little smile urging me to move faster. If not love then, why did Hatha stay?

  She risked again being with me. She had safety at the Night Palace. The trust of Roth, a good life—all risked for me. I wondered yet again at her motives. Was it friendship? Love? She did not love me as she had Anja. Of that I was sure. Was I a tool then? A part of an agenda that I could not even guess? Perhaps a little of them all. Hatha remained a mystery, one right beside me.