Footwear and Fantasy

by J. J. Lore

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making you comfortable.” Something in his voice or manner must have calmed her because she slowly sank back onto the bed and rolled to give him better access. First he wiped away the signs of love from her inner thighs, then nudged at her to widen her legs so he could continue. Her hand reached down to impede him and he sat back on his haunches to level a stare at her. “Please allow me. I won’t rest easy until I’ve restored you.”

  Hanna blinked and slowly moved her hand away from her pink folds, her spread thighs gradually relaxing against the rumpled sheets. Lear murmured something under his breath and leaned her way to kiss her cheek. Garrin set to work cleansing her most tender flesh and soothing her as best he could. If they were home, he would have access to all sorts of unguents and healing creams, but here amongst humans, simple water would have to suffice. He did allow himself to admire her body as he worked. It was a pity this would be their only encounter, for despite the ferocity of his earlier release, he found his body already rousing for her again.

  She stretched under his hands and made a soft sound of happiness. Her apparent pleasure with such simple ministrations inspired him to continue, and after selecting another dampened cloth he began to stroke it down her legs. Lear rose up on an elbow to watch with an approving nod. The boots had left a small dent circling around the tops of her knees and he massaged at the marred skin, then stroked down her calves to capture her delicate feet. As he pressed his fingers into the ball of her foot, she moaned and closed her eyes. He stroked her arch and she gasped. Wondering how she’d react when he plucked at her toes, he gently grasped one and squeezed. Hanna writhed and gripped her hands into the bedding as if determined to stay in place and accept whatever he decided to do to her.

  Lear watched the interplay with a light in his eyes as he ran his fingers through Hanna’s long strands of russet hair tangled on the pillow. Only the mewling arrival of the cat interrupted their quiet bonding and as the creature leaped onto the bed with a whine, Hanna jolted upright, her eyes wide as she stared at the creature.

  “Don’t worry, he’s merely wondering why we aren’t worshiping him.” Garrin gave her a smile, hoping to reassure her.

  “Blame the Egyptians for any cat’s elevated sense of self-worth. They’ve never gotten over being revered as gods,” Lear said as he petted the animal.

  “Egyptians? You mean from the old stories? How would you know about them?” Hanna looked from one to the other, a perplexed frown on her lovely lips.

  “We know much of human history. We elves have lived alongside you for millennia with your people all but unknowing, other than the legends you create to explain the few encounters we’ve allowed. It’s a necessary distance.” Garrin folded up the cloths and left the bed to toss them in the basin. He already knew dawn approached, but a quick glance through a crack in the room’s window shutter told him the earth was turning toward the light of the sun.

  “Lear, our time approaches.” His warning to his companion took hold. Lear blinked and immediately turned to Hanna. He could sense his mate’s distress and bent to gather their clothing from the floor, glad of something to distract him from what Lear was going to have to do. It would be difficult to glamour the woman, to know she’d forget this exquisite encounter entirely. His belly suddenly ached. They needed to return to the magical realm, where they belonged. Too much time among soft and willing humans blurred the lines they needed to draw.

  ****

  Garrin’s brief words struck like an iron blade in his chest and Lear sucked in a pained breath. Yes, he’d known they’d have to leave her, known he’d promised to cast an enchantment and erase from her mind the time they’d just shared, but it had been easy to ignore the reality when he’d been immersed in lovemaking.

  Hanna watched Garrin grab up their garb, his movements rougher than they needed to be. She turned her head his way with an inquiring tilt. “What are you doing?”

  “We have to leave, my sweet.” He brushed some of her loosened hair back over her bare shoulder and wished he had time to brush it smooth. “It’s best if we leave before your neighbors wake.”

  “Oh, of course. That’s very thoughtful. I don’t know why I assumed…” As her words trailed off, she dipped her head, her hair sliding back down to obscure her expression. He tipped her chin up and she blinked at him, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.

  “Why might you cry?” Lear was concerned. Everything they’d shared had been a delight. How could he leave her if she was hurting?

  She sniffed and tried to smile at him, but her chin quivered. “I just…it doesn’t matter.”

  Lear gathered himself to cast the incantation that would veil this encounter from her memory, but the ancient words died on his tongue. With a roiling sense of dread, he understood he no more wanted her to forget them than he wished to be cast into a raging river and be swept to the icy Northern Sea. He lacked the will to spell her. Her trusting gaze pulled him in and he leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “Dear Hanna, we have enjoyed our time with you and hope you feel the same.”

  Her smooth cheek slid along his as she nodded and it took much of his will not to wrap his arms around her and tumble her back to the bed so they could sleep until darkness fled and the morning sky glowed, but that was not their destiny. He felt the bed move and there was Garrin, already fully attired, a severe expression set on his face. Hanna gazed up at him and without a word he kissed her firmly, one of his hands cupping around the back of her head as he plied his tongue to hers. Her whole body drew up and leaned his way and, with a startling awareness, Lear realized his companion no more desired to quit her bed than he did. With a sinking sensation in his gut, he wondered if he should ask Garrin to charm her to forgetfulness, but was saved from the request by a sudden thudding from the environs of her shop below.

  With a muttered curse, he drew on his garments and quickly shrugged on a human demeanor. Hanna leapt from the bed and tangled herself up into her gown, then pulled a thin robe from a hook on the wall, tightly tying it round her as she stared at them both.

  “What did you do?” She gestured at their altered faces even as the noise from below increased.

  “It’s a veil to disguise our features and allow us to pass among you unnoticed,” Garrin said as he stalked to the door and peered down the dark stairwell. The cat sat at his toes and hissed at whatever demanded entry below.

  “You stay here. I’ll go see what the trouble is,” she announced and was down the steps before they could object. Garrin moved as if to follow and Lear caught at his arm.

  “We should cloak ourselves and leave via this window to circle round and see if she needs help.”

  “A good thought. We can be mere passersby on the street if there is anything untoward. Continue on our way once we’re assured she’s in no peril.”

  The cat protested their escape with a howl and Lear fought the urge to command the creature to go defend his mistress, but a spellbound feline in a rage would be difficult for Hanna to explain and would undoubtedly result in the death of her cat, so he refrained.

  They easily scaled the stucco and half timbers of the building exterior and were soon standing just out of sight of the opened shop door. The pale gloom of fading night surrounded them. Hanna held a lighted taper aloft and listened intently to a small greyish woman inquire as to the whereabouts of her child. Hanna laid a slender hand on the older woman’s shaking shoulder and assured her she hadn’t seen the boy. Just then, an old man stumbled up with a relieved cry and clutched at the older woman with a wizened hand. He expressed happiness at finding her and explained to Hanna that his wife sometimes awoke confused and looked for a child they’d lost years before during the last great plague. Hanna’s face fell with sympathy and she stroked the older woman’s arm in a comforting manner. Not for the first time Lear was heartily glad to be an elf, blessed with a robust constitution and able to call upon centuries of medical and magical assistance if he felt even slightly unwell.
Humans lacked such protections and his heart ached for the old couple and their lost, loved child, and for whatever tragedy might befall Hanna in the future.

  Garrin tugged at his elbow and inclined his head toward a distant alley heading in the direction of the forest and their portal to home. With great reluctance he turned away from Hanna and the small tragedy at her door and followed his mate into the dark.

  Chapter Four

  Awaking with a stretch, Hanna lolled in her bed and blinked. As soon as she moved her thighs, her cunny clenched with a sore tug and it all flooded back to her shocked mind. She’d bedded two elves the night before without hesitation or shame. Or they’d bedded her, it mattered not. They’d coupled with abandon in any case and for a long, luxurious moment she allowed herself to recall the sensuous experience. The way they’d touched her, kissed her, pressed themselves deep within her body to elicit the most incredible sensation from her made her shiver upon recollection.

  With a sigh she rolled out of bed and stood, now remembering how the heartbroken woman’s quest had interrupted them, and how she’d grieved when she’d returned to her room to find Lear and Garrin gone. It only made sense, of course. They’d needed to disappear before her reputation might be sullied, but she still mourned knowing she’d never see them again.

  Glancing out her window, she sucked in a shocked breath and raced to wash and dress. The day was well begun and she had to open her shop in preparation for Madame Constant’s appointment. In a matter of moments she was as presentable as possible after a night of vigorous passion. Nearly slipping in her haste, she made her way downstairs to rush to the kitchen and forage for some sort of food. She’d just grabbed a heel of stale bread when her door rattled under a hail of knocks.

  Tripping over a mewling Phoebus, Hanna went to the door and flung it open to find Constant and another woman waiting at the threshold, a lackey standing by with his hand raised to pound yet again. He nearly struck Hanna in the middle of her forehead and only stopped his blow at the last moment. The man gave her a leer from under his wild grey eyebrows and she pulled back, nearly frowning in distaste, but caught herself in time. She couldn’t insult Madame Constant’s servant.

  Both women swept in and crowded the small amount of floor space in the shop, their full, brocade skirts brushing up against shelves and boxes as they peered around. The lackey knuckled his forehead and waited outside. Hanna shut the door and faced her customers, hoping no evidence of her nocturnal activities was apparent in her demeanor.

  Madame Constant introduced her friend as Ermengarde, and Hanna curtsied before pulling out the custom shoe orders. She’d worked so hard to replicate Lear and Garrin’s fine design but she could see all the flaws her limited skills had been unable to overcome. Slight puckers along one seam, a sole that extended too far, and more if she cared to look more closely. However, as soon as she presented the slippers to her patron, Ermengarde squealed at an alarming volume. Their voices mingled in a tumble of excited phrases as they grabbed at the shoes, Madame Constant hopping on one foot as she attempted to try it on even though she’d forgotten to remove her shoe first.

  Unbidden, a memory of the previous evening crept over her in a warm wave; Garrin’s careful removal of the beautiful purple boots as she lay satiated, naked, and barely conscious. Then his gentle massage of her foot, which brought her intense pleasure. She’d never realized the foot could be so sensitive and that a mere pinch of the tip of her toe could arouse her so. Her toes curled and she fought against the blush she knew was creeping into her warm cheeks.

  “I must have another pair of them, immediately!” Madame Constant’s sharp tone brought Hanna out of her reverie and she smiled at the women, hoping she looked like an attentive shopkeeper ready to assist the most important customers in the world. “A pair in red, and another in blue, I think.”

  Hanna suppressed a shudder of dread. Constructing the pair the woman held had taken her two days with only breaks for food and sleep. She wasn’t sure how she’d survive making even more.

  “And I must have several pair, but in colors different than yours, my friend.” Ermengarde beamed at her friend. “Black with white, I think, and green.”

  “Ohh…not green! Never that!” Madame Constant sucked in her cheeks and stared at her friend. “It’s the color of ill will and enchantments!”

  Her friend clapped a hand to her mouth like she’d said a foul word. Hanna bit her lip, suddenly remembering Lear’s clear green eyes. There’d been no ill will she could detect, but perhaps a gentle enchantment. The tender flesh between her legs ached at the memory of him and Garrin. They wouldn’t return, she was sure. Magic only happened once. They might not have bewitched her with spells, but she still longed to see them again and revel in the strong connection they’d somehow forged. They were kind and gentle in their strength and she knew she’d miss them the rest of her days.

  She knelt on the floor in front of the woman and began to work. Madame Ermengarde held out her foot, indicating Hanna should take off the shoe for her. The woman was wearing a very tight clog, clearly compressing her foot because she wanted to appear more attractive. Once she was unshod, Hanna positioned her atop a piece of paper and began to trace around. The women chattered above her.

  “Have you heard the latest?” Madame Constant lowered her voice and glanced around as if they were in the middle of the square on market day. “The burghers are going to increase the night patrols.”

  “Whyever would they do that? Has there been an increase in riffraff in the streets?”

  She shook her head slowly as Hanna glanced up from her work, then immediately returned to noting the swollen ankles of Ermengarde. “Not that, but there has been an increase in the number of good citizens reporting strangers roaming the streets at night. Reports of shadowy men running along the rooftops and scaling walls with ease.”

  The other woman issued a quavery sigh. “So mysterious. Has anyone been harmed?”

  “Not yet, but without our men out protecting us, it’s inevitable.” Madame Constant leaned closer to her friend, who shifted her feet, mussing some of Hanna’s measurements. She rubbed at the paper and tried again. “I believe it’s the work of wizards or demons readying to steal babes from their cribs. Or young women from their beds. All for nefarious purposes. Just as Father Wilem has been warning us for some time.”

  Hanna rose with her sheets in hand to see the women giving each other a significant glance. She kept silent, not wishing to ask any questions and betray an interest in the topic. It was for the best Garrin and Lear wouldn’t be returning to her, else they fall prey to angry men with halberds and pikes at the ready. Just the thought of them being pursued, even injured, made her cold and she rubbed her hands along her arms, crumpling the paper somewhat.

  “What do you think, Hanna? You’re a young woman living without the benefit and protection of a man. Do you feel safe here in Arlentown?” Madame Constant stared at her, her pale grey eyes alight with something, perhaps curiosity.

  Hanna turned away and consulted some of her generic lasts, hoping she’d have something on hand and wouldn’t have to go to the trouble of commissioning a carving. “I feel as safe as I ever did.”

  “You mean to tell me you’re unattended, girl?” Ermengarde drew back and regarded Hanna as if she were a rabid dog preparing to gnash her to the bone.

  “Her father is ill and languishes in the South where it remains warmer in the winter.” Madame Constant took on the role of explaining, almost as if Hanna were a child who needed an interpreter. “I’m taking it upon myself to monitor her and take her under my wing as necessary.”

  Hanna blinked. This was the first she’d heard of such an arrangement. “I fare well, thank you.”

  The other woman harrumphed and narrowed her eyes. “Girls on their own get up to all sorts of mischief, leading boys astray with their brazen ways. My own son was corrupted just this winter by a tawdry little thing looking to inveigle her way into a better family.”


  Madame Constant’s eyes went wide. “You don’t mean to say she claimed he was the only one who’d trod that path?”

  The other woman nodded fiercely. “Unbelievable, as you know. Even though her family was common they did the right thing and sent her packing as soon as her belly showed. Any girl who’d allow such liberties with one invariably peddles her wares freely. I set her to rights and tossed her out onto the street where she belonged.”

  “And the babe?”

  “I assume she bore it. I saw her shifting for leavings in the market sometimes, swelling with someone else’s by-blow, but she’s been absent for some months now.”

  Hanna’s sense of cold grew as she considered the poor girl’s fate. To have trusted a man with her body only to be cast aside when their love resulted in a child was a horrible destiny indeed. She was sure Ermengarde’s son never missed a meal or spent a cold night as a result of his carnal activities. A terrible shiver assailed her as she considered what she’d done. There was no possibility of a child, of course, but she had opened herself up to undoubtedly lascivious behavior. Would she tumble for any man who spared her a smile now? Was she forever tainted?

  Her gut churning with worry, she rummaged among her leathers, pulling some haphazard samples for the women to consider. She didn’t listen to their chatter with any great attention, for she had too much to worry about. It seemed it took several hours for the women to choose their colors and confirm their designs, but they were finally out the door, handing off packages to the man who’d been waiting outside all along. Almost as if he knew what she’d done that night, the hired hand glanced at Hanna with a leering light in his dark eyes and she lifted her chin. With a frown, she slammed her shop door shut, not particularly caring if she’d offended him and perhaps lost a customer.