The Story of Lamia & Pan

by C M Blackwood

  The Story of Lamia & Pan

  A Fantasy Novella

  C.M. Blackwood

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2018 C.M. Blackwood.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission from the author.

  Prologue:

  Lamia and the 7 Elves of Meridia

  There was once a young woman named Lamia, who dwelt in the world of humans, and who longed for someone to love her. While she was lying in her bed one night, and wondering what it would be like for someone to hold her, and tell her that she was dear to them, something amazing happened. She saw a bright light shining through her closed eyelids: and she looked to see a pure white doorway standing open in the wall of her bedroom.

  She got out of bed, and walked to the doorway, just past which there was a very small elf standing. "Come into Meridia," he said, "and find the one you love."

  So Lamia followed him through the doorway. Beyond, there opened up a beautiful world of green grasses, blue skies, and sparkling waters. Lamia had never seen anything like it.

  "Come," the little elf repeated. "Come and find the one you love."

  He waved for her to go on; and then he disappeared. So Lamia went, moving on through the land of Meridia. It wasn't long before she met another elf: very young, very beautiful, and very playful.

  "My name is Caina," she said. "If you will love me, I will give you wings to fly -- and we can soar together for the rest of our days."

  "No," Lamia said. "Though I should like very much to fly -- I'm afraid I don't love you."

  Caina shrugged and giggled. "All right," she said. "Goodbye, then!"

  And off she flew. So Lamia went on, until she came into a darker place, and found there a very eerie elf, who walked upon the water of a vast black lake, and who held a dark wooden wand in her hand.

  "My name is Medruga," the elf said. "If you will love me, I will use my magic to make it so that you can walk with me upon the water. We will live here on this lake forever."

  "Only God in heaven can make it so that I can walk upon the water," Lamia answered. "So I must tell you no."

  Medruga was more hurt by Lamia's refusal than Caina had been; but still, she simply nodded, and watched sadly as Lamia began to walk away.

  A while later, Lamia came to a great tree that stood in the midst of a flowing river. On a throne before this tree, there sat an elf with hair the color of blood.

  "My name is Sylphona," she said. "If you will love me, I will let you drink from this river, and together we will be forever young."

  But Lamia shook her head. "I have always imagined someone that I can grow old with," she said. "Then, when one day we die, we will be in heaven together. That's the life I dream of."

  "Very well," Sylphona replied, waving her hand in a very stately manner to show that Lamia was dismissed.

  So Lamia set off again, until she came to a vast hall of stone, in which there sat a pale, horned elf upon a throne carved of marble.

  "My name is Borrigan," the horned elf said. "These two elves beneath me have held up my throne for centuries -- but if you will love me, I will call them out, and make them your servants."

  Lamia was horrified. "You remind me of the devil," she said. "You are cruel to keep those elves beneath your throne. You have no heart; and I cannot love you."

  This was the first of the elves to become angry when Lamia refused her. With a face full of rage, Borrigan leapt up from her throne, and made to strike a blow towards Lamia. But Lamia ran away, and went around the hall of stone before Borrigan could catch her.

  Though she was very shaken, Lamia went on. Soon, she came to a shadowy wood, from out of the depths of which many voices cried out in pain. She went into the wood, and soon came across an elf who was covered from head to foot in a dark cloth. She held a wand as Medruga had done, and she knelt upon a stone block, at the foot of which there was tied a very frightened prisoner.

  "My name is Malina," the elf said to Lamia. "I have many prisoners such as this one. Can you hear their voices crying? If you will love me, I will slay them all, and offer you their blood as a wedding present."

  "You disgust me," Lamia said. "You think you are powerful, because you hold these people captive -- but you are only evil. I could never love you."

  "Oh, well," Malina said. "Perhaps someone else will come. It wasn't long ago that another girl came by -- perhaps only fifty years ago."

  And she settled herself down upon the stone block, to stare off into the trees, awaiting the arrival of another young woman who might like her offer better than Lamia had.

  With a terrible shiver, Lamia turned away from Malina, and hurried off. After a time, it grew dark, and it became hard to find her way. But suddenly she made out the light of a candle, which was burning above an elf who hovered in midair.

  The elf was holding a box in her hands, and was staring down at it, so that she didn't notice right away when Lamia arrived. But then Lamia cleared her throat, and the elf looked up.

  "Hello," she said. "My name is Corella. This box holds the ashes of my lost love; and I always hold it, to make me feel that she is near."

  "I'm sorry," Lamia said.

  "Don't be sorry," Corella said. "But if you will love me, I will put this box away, and never look at it again."

  Even as she said this, though, she was still staring at the box. It was clear that she could never part with it.

  "No," Lamia said. "I'm sorry for you -- but I'm afraid I can't love you. I hope that someday you find happiness."

  She walked away from Corella, but the elf didn't even notice her departure. Lamia hung her head as she walked, and wept, because she was beginning to think that she would never find her true love.

  But suddenly, she came into an open field, where there was a shining sword lying upon a table. She came closer to inspect the sword; and out of nowhere, a lovely elf appeared. She wore a green cloak, and she smiled kindly.

  "I have been waiting for you for many years," she said to Lamia. "My name is Pan. If you will let me love you -- I will use this sword to vanquish anyone who would harm you. I have never had to use it before now, but I would use it every day from now on, if only to protect you."

  She took up the sword, then, and lifted it in a solemn oath.

  Lamia looked wonderingly into Pan's face, and then began to smile. Pan was the first of the elves to say, not "If you will love me," but "If you will let me love you." And though it was obvious that she didn't want to have to use the sword, she was willing to do it for Lamia.

  "I will let you love me," Lamia told her. "And I will love you in return. I will not go back to the world of humans; but I will stay here with you in Meridia."

  So Pan took Lamia's hand; and they went away together, to live out the rest of their days in the magical land of Meridia.

  Part One:

  Horses of Fire and Water

  When Lamia first arrived in Meridia, and Pan offered her love, Lamia accepted it and offered her own in return. Some might say that it is a strange occurrence, to be offered the love of a stranger. And yet, from the first moment that Lamia looked into Pan’s eyes – she was no stranger to her. Lamia knew her every thought, and her every desire. She had every intention of fulfilling each and every one of those desires; and her own love was boundless.

  Pan w
as the sole protector of the Forest of Gelbane. This was a small, lovely wood that stood just past the desolate kingdom of Baranthor. Their sole companion was Brudo, a very small elf who was loyal to Pan in all of his words and deeds.

  In some ways, Lamia and Pan looked very much alike, but in some ways they were very different. They were both tall and fair, and they had very long, dark hair. But, while Lamia’s eyes were blue, Pan’s were green. And though Lamia most always wore a tranquil expression, Pan’s face was not unknown to wear a fierce and menacing look, when she felt that there was anything which was rather less than satisfactory.

  For example: when once Pan and Lamia were in the midst of building their house together, Pan struck her hand with a hammer, and began to curse horribly. Lamia had done the same thing earlier that morning, but she merely sighed, and went to wash her bloody hand in a nearby stream.

  Now, before Lamia came, Pan and Brudo had lived in a simple hut made from tree branches and leaves. But Pan didn’t think that such an abode was suitable for her lover; so she decided to build something more grand. Lamia, of course, said that it wasn’t at all necessary – but when Pan insisted that it was, Lamia offered to help her.

  “I would have built this house with my magic,” Pan said through clenched teeth, “but I’ve never been able to build things with it before. The only thing I could ever do was make Brudo.” She peered at him with narrowed eyes, and added: “Although – I’m never entirely sure whether that was a very good idea.”

  Brudo looked at Pan from his place on the ground far beneath her (he was only about three feet tall); and he harrumphed indignantly.

  “Well,” he said, “sometimes I don’t like you very much, either. You’re awfully crabby, and awfully cross!” He stuck his nose up in the air and crossed his arms over his small chest. “And you swear too much,” he added haughtily.

  “You should be kinder to Brudo, Pan,” Lamia said. “You must remember, there was a time when he was your only friend. And if he hadn’t come to fetch me – we wouldn’t have the family we have now.”

  She smiled sweetly at Pan, and Pan couldn’t help smiling in return.

  It was true: little Brudo had been the one who came to the gate of Meridia to call Lamia forth into that land. He had known his sole companion’s sadness very well, and had known how she longed for someone to love her, just as Lamia longed for the same thing. Neither of them had any family; and while at least Pan had Brudo, Lamia had nothing but an empty house which had been left to her by her father, and a small sum of money that wouldn’t have sustained her for another three months.

  And that was when Brudo came. Lamia’s journey to Pan seemed long; but to her, it was worth every second.

  Sometimes, Lamia and Pan walked beside the Moon River after supper, looking at the reflection of the sky’s many lights over the surface of the water.

  “I often wonder,” Pan once said to Lamia, “if you find this to be a very lonely life.”

  “Lonely!” Lamia exclaimed in surprise. “How could I ever be lonely – when I have you?”

  Now, Pan was the protector of Gelbane; and though she had never had to use her sword against an opponent, still, she was vigilant in her duties, and there was a fierceness about her that promised her to be a worthy opponent, if ever she were forced to fight.

  But Lamia’s love took away Pan’s fierceness, and made her as a lamb. At moments like these, she wanted nothing more than for Lamia to take her in her arms, and to whisper in her ear. And Lamia never failed to do it.

  So now, Pan smiled at Lamia’s words, and moved forward to put a hand to her face. Lamia put her arms around her and kissed her deeply, while the bright starlight shone down between the branches of the forest canopy above their heads.

  They savored making love on the banks of the Moon River. It was a lonely and magical place, filled with the cries of night birds, a place where you could lie with the cool moss against your back, your lover’s breasts against your belly, and the sharp breeze against your naked thighs.

  This night was no exception. It was early autumn, and the air was brisk. But that never deterred the young women from stripping off their clothes to bare their flesh – and their souls – for one another.

  Pan was a hunter. She was strong, and she was skilled with her hands. But when it came to sex, she was putty in Lamia’s hands, soft and malleable. Lamia could do anything she liked with her. Pan was her living doll, her beautiful forest elf covered in dirt and tree sap.

  Lamia liked to drip wild honey over Pan’s naked skin, then cradle her in her arms and take her time licking it all off. She crushed the bright red berries from the dense thickets between their mouths, filling their kisses with sweet juices.

  They liked to make love in the running waters of the river. They had mastered the art of floating against each other, hands inside one another while the current carried them between the banks to their favorite meadow.

  The wind nipped at their naked flesh, and it was too cold to get into the river tonight. Pan still had a worried look on her face, and she was hovering over Lamia, a hand circled gently around the back of her neck.

  “And yet,” she went on, “you never see anyone but me and Brudo. You never do anything but clean and cook and game I bring home. You’re incredibly intelligent, and if you were an elf, there’s no telling what you’d be capable of. Yet – you’re satisfied?”

  There was just no qualifying that incredibly terrified expression on her face. As if she were afraid Lamia were going to suddenly realize she was missing out on some great adventure, and immediately vanish in search of it.

  Lamia smiled gently, then reached up to pull Pan’s naked body more closely against her. “My soul is completely satisfied,” she whispered.

  She ground her sex against the hot, wet space between Pan’s legs, making her moan. “Although,” she added mischievously, “my flesh could use some satisfying, too . . .”

  “Say no more, my love,” Pan murmured, lowering her face to kiss her lover’s neck. Lamia sighed in contentment, baring her throat so that Pan could kiss its delicate white hollow.

  “Your kisses are like wine to me,” Lamia whispered, working her fingernails through Pan’s hair. Her eyes were closed, and her skin was covered in gooseflesh.

  Pan smiled happily, loving the sound of these words on Lamia’s lips. She kissed her way down her body, knowing all the places where she liked her to linger, knowing all the places where she liked to be licked, and knowing all the places where she liked to be bitten.

  She fastened her hands around Lamia’s narrow hips, kissing the warm, wet mouth between her thighs, breathing in its heady scent. Lamia thrust herself against her, needing release. She was a prisoner of her own lust – and no one could free her but Pan.

  ~

  And so they were, human and elvish lovers lost in the magic of the Forest of Gelbane; and it seemed as though their bliss would never end.

  But that was not to be. For, one morning, Lamia and Pan woke in their little bed, roused by a strange light that appeared across the room outside the little window. It looked like flames, and could be seen clearly through the trees.

  “What is that?” Lamia asked. She really didn’t think Pan would know, but people have a habit of asking stupid questions when they’re afraid.

  “I don’t know,” Pan answered. Saw that one coming. “But I’ll find out.”

  She tried to get Lamia to stay behind, but of course she failed. So they set out together through the trees, towards the boundary of the forest where the strange firelight was blazing.

  When they arrived, they found two elves mounted on two horses. The first was Borrigan, seated on a horse made of flame; and the second was Medruga, seated on a horse made of water.

  “Queen Borrigan of the Hall of Sorrow,” Pan said flatly, “and Empress Medruga of the Black Lake. What do you want here?”

  Lamia started slightly at the appearance of Borrigan, who looked even more evil, and whose horns seemed much lon
ger and sharper than the last time she saw her. As for Medruga, she looked the same: her bluish skin looked like that of a mermaid, and she held her black wand in her hand.

  “You have lived together in these woods for seven years,” Borrigan said to Lamia and Pan in a deep, fearsome voice. “But we shall not allow it anymore. This is Meridia, the land of the elves – and there is no place here for a human woman.”

  Lamia, as we have said, was most times very peaceful, and very serene; but she also possessed a strange bone somewhere in her body, which gave her a wry twist of humor. So she said now: “Ah, Borrigan! That’s what you say now – but that’s not what you said seven years ago, when you asked me to be your lover. I daresay you wouldn’t have cared how human I was then, if I had chosen you instead of Pan.”

  Borrigan’s face flashed with the same flame of which her horse consisted; and a little blaze went up all around her. She was a creature of fire and stone: burning, hard, and unyielding as the two together.

  “And you, Medruga,” Lamia said to the second elf. “You have come here to say the same thing to me?”

  Medruga looked at Lamia, a little sadly; for she was a morose creature, a creature of the solemn mists and rains that lay upon her lake. But she said simply, “I do come to say it.”

  “No doubt because I refused you, also?” Lamia asked, with a return of that wry smile.

  “Perhaps,” Medruga answered with a sigh.

  Pan touched the sword that she kept holstered to her hip, and looked defiantly at the two elves. “Well,” she said, “I hope very much that you have only come to say it – because if you intend to do more than that, I will have to kill you.”

  “Kill us!” Borrigan exclaimed with a laugh. “Ah – yes, Pan, that’s quite rich! You will kill us – the elf who has never raised her sword!”

  Even Medruga smiled in amusement.

  But Pan wasn’t deterred in the least. “Of course there’s no way for me to convince you,” she said. “You will simply have to believe that I mean what I say.”