Rising Ch. 10

Methaniel woke to find the Wingling girl's naked form pressed tightly to him, cuddled into his arm and resting against his body. Her flesh was warm and soft and the enormous curvature of her bosom squished against his hard torso. It was all he could do to simply control himself in that moment. He looked down at her, smiling softly as he watched the rise and fall of her bosom and the light play of a smile curving her soft lips. Her dark, silken hair shone richly in the sunlight beaming through the window.

Ahma was a wonder, and last nights activities had only further impressed that fact upon him. He had been with a virgin before, once. It had been an awkward and difficult thing. Though she was willing, the girl had been timid, extremely nervous, and a bit frightened. While he had been exceedingly gentle, likely more so than any other man would be, she had still experienced pain and he had felt guilty. This time was different. While he had been able to tell Ahma held some nervousness, she had nonetheless been welcoming, encouraging, and had clearly enjoyed herself, something that had only driven his lust on.

Her body had been perfection, the most thrilling and enjoyable woman he had ever been with by far. Her flesh was soft and supple, yet firm and tight, her bosom a wonder beyond words. Her womanhood was likewise lovely to look upon and joy itself to experience. He had enjoyed the hairlessness of her pussy, something he had experienced only once before, and then with one of the army whores. And her moisture...her cunt had oozed honey, leaking it liberally and soaking his cock thoroughly. This was a good thing, considering just how incredibly tight and firmly her passage had wrapped around him. Had she not been so wet, he cringed to think of what the friction would have done to her, and even to him.

Ahma shifted slightly and her wings lightly brushed over his body. She nuzzled into him, even in her sleep, and her hand pressed more tightly into the thick muscle of his chest. Methaniel smiled wider. She was lovely, beautiful, perfect. She was in so many ways a contradiction; she was innocent yet, as she had displayed last night, wanting and lustful. She was gentle and kind, yet brave, and learning to handle a weapon faster than some soldiers he had known. She was subservient and seemed to embraced her role as a servant, yet wasn't afraid to speak her mind and express herself.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Methaniel bent down and pressed his lips to hers. Ahma's eyes opened slowly, and then she smiled, softly returning the kiss as she pressed more tightly into him.

The Master pulled back, knowing if he didn't he would never get out of bed that day. He smiled down at her, tightening his powerful arm around her waist and pulling her close as he kissed her forehead.

"Good morning, Master Merie," Ahma smiled beautifully up at him. Her smile lit her whole face and made her beautiful and angelic features all the more lovely.

"Good morning, Ahma. Did you sleep well?"

The Wingling girl nodded earnestly, and, smiling shyly, craned her neck up to kiss him on the cheek. Methaniel pulled her close, holding her tight for a moment, caressing her back lightly with his large hands. His muscles bunched and quivered against her naked flesh, and Ahma shivered happily.

Methaniel sat up and slowly rose out of bed. Ahma watched him and stretched, a smile on her face, her wings extending to their full length and fluttered in an extension of the giddy energy she was feeling. She folded her wings back and smiled lovingly at her Master.

"I have to go out again," Methaniel said as he pulled on a pair of dark green slacks.

"I promise I won't be long," he continued upon seeing the slight droop of her shoulders. He threw on a long sleeved tunic and stepped to the bed, bending down and kissing her fully, deeply. Ahma sighed happily, and craned her neck forward as he pulled slowly back, extending the kiss for as long as possible.

Methaniel smiled at her and caressed her face. "Rest for me. Relax and enjoy some leisure time. Be sure to get something to eat, too. I left some coin on the dresser for you. See Lanion and be ready for dinner when I get back."

His eyes flashed mischievously, shining bright and silver, and he grinned at her. "And be ready for tonight."

Methaniel kissed her again and then pulled his boots onto his feet, strapped his blade to his hip, and grabbed up his cloak. He hesitated a moment, then grabbed one of Ahma's scarves, the soft gray one. Ahma gave him a slightly puzzled look, but she was too distracted by the overwhelming feelings of her own happiness to say anything. With a final smile and a wave to the Wingling girl who covered herself modestly with the sheets as he opened the door, Methaniel left the room.

Ahma braided her hair and put on her frumpy brown dress and her soft gloves. She strapped the blade to her hip and the dagger to her thigh under her dress as she had yesterday. She picked up the coins and left the room, locking the door behind her.

First stopping by the front counter, she discovered they offered room service. She decided she would stop by and see what they provided after visiting Lanion.

The horse was in the same pen. He was chewing on yet another part of the fence, having already ruined one of the rails. He sniffed at her as she walked near and snorted loudly. Ahma smiled and patted his neck.

"I know I smell like him. You should be happy for us," she smiled.

Lanion gave her a look that could only be called a glare. Ahma spent some time brushing him. The stable did a decent job tending to him, but not as well as the hands at the Manor would have.. She took care to groom the horse carefully, spending extra time on the spots he seemed to enjoy the most, such as the hairline of his mane. It was a relaxing thing for both of them and a simple pleasure Ahma enjoyed. Lanion's coat was soft under her fingers and his flanks rippled with muscle. His clear enjoyment of her attention and the way she brushed out his mane and tail shone in his dark eyes.

As she rubbed the horse's tender spots, her mind began to wander...mostly in the direction of last night. The experience had blown her mind. Master Methaniel's cock had been beyond her imagination. The size, the thickness and the wonderful way it made her feel had been one of the best experiences of her life. It made the troubles and hardships of the past few months melt away and seem far worth it for the simple chance to be with him.

Moreover, his reaction this morning had made any leftover doubt float away. Not only had he been receptive to her body, but to her feelings as well. That relieved her greatly. She hadn't really thought he would simply use her, but to see that his actions and attitude toward her hadn't changed, that he was the same sweet, loving, affectionate man, was reassuring. She did not know the extent of his feelings...not quite...but she felt sure they were good.

She was also greatly relieved that she had finally expressed how she felt, and managed to do it in proper Wingling tradition no less. She had desired him for some time...possibly since she had even seen him. His being filled her dreams, and she had longed for his affection, his love, and his body. Finally she had expressed that, and nothing could have made her happier. She was his lover, and he was hers.

Ahma hoped desperately that after the whole business with their being hunted, after they found those who sought them and brought them to justice, that she and Methaniel could build a life together. Ahma was not sure if it was even possible between a Wingling and Human, but perhaps it they were able, they could have children. She hoped he would want something of that sort, but if he didn't, she could learn to accept that. Her life was his, in several ways now. She would do whatever he wished.

She patted Lanion and told him to behave himself as she finished grooming him. He nuzzled her hand briefly, then went back to chewing at the fence. Soon he would likely chew his way out of the pen entirely, the evil thing.

The Wingling girl returned to the inn and ordered herself some lunch. Though room service sounded appealing, she decided she shouldn't be allowing a stranger into their room. Master Merie probably wouldn't approve.

So to their room she went, carrying her plate. She ate and set the dish outside the door as the woman at the front desk had advised her. She changed from the grubby dress, now covered in Lanion's hair, and, after thinking about it for a moment and giggling, donned one of Master Methaniel's oversized tunics. It fell around her, down to her knees. It was even large enough for her Wings to fit inside relatively comfortably, folded against her back.

She took her hair down again and spent some time brushing it out. All the while her thoughts dwelled on the Master.

He was much more gentle than she'd ever thought he could be...his sweetness and sincerity had made her comfortable and relaxed during their lovemaking. She was happy that he had taken her advances positively. Now she could look forward to

more...interesting nights, to say the least.

***

Methaniel found himself standing in the shadows of the same dilapidated building he'd visited yesterday, gazing at the rough wooden door with his thick arms crossed over his chest. He wore his cloak with the hood drawn up and he'd tied Ahma's scarf across the lower part of his face. With his cowl pulled low, the features of his face were hidden from view. Had he been in a less dangerous part of town, the look would likely have drawn attention. But in these worn streets he looked like any other who wished to keep their features hidden from the many prying eyes. Anyone interested in maintaining law and civil decency stayed well away from this area of Fernum.

The door opened and the man nodded him in. Methaniel advanced with a slow, relaxed gait, but his every nerve was set on a razors edge. The doorman walking beside him was polite enough to keep his hand away from the large dagger at his belt. Methaniel knew every step he took was marked by many hidden watchers, each of which likely held a weapon poised to cut him down. It was a dangerous bid he took, coming here, but his desire for information, for a place to turn to, forsomethingto act on drove him to the very edge of caution.

And here, on that most precipitous of edges, he balanced precariously.

A chair scuffed along the wooden plank floor as Methaniel pulled it away from the table and sat down. The Nobleman glanced around the room; it was a cramped little office, with nary a thing in it. It was dim; a single desk lamp and the weak sunlight filtering through the choke of dirt and grime on the single window provided the only light.

"Why're you here?" the man sitting behind the desk asked. He was a squat fellow. A long scar edging the entire length of the right side of his face added to a grim and serious appearance he purposefully maintained. He regarded Methaniel critically with small, dark eyes set deep in his pale face. His demeanor was calm, confident. He knew he held the cards here.

"Information," Methaniel said simply, his words muffled slightly by the scarf blocking his face.

The man leaned forward slightly and propped his elbows on his desk, gazing at him coolly. "That's it? You came to the Thieves Guild...for information?"

"If you can direct me to someone who has a more extensive informant network than a Thieves Guild, I'll gladly leave," Methaniel countered.

The guildman smirked softly. "How I know I can trust you?"

Methaniel tossed a small cloth sack onto the man's desk. It contained nearly all of the remaining coin he had left over from the bulging purse he'd grabbed before fleeing the Manor, as well as all the coin he'd made from selling pelts and meat along the journey. It jingled liberally; the man didn't pick it up.

"How I know you ain't with the guard?"

"Because," Methaniel replied, "If I was with the guard I would either be someplace else, or you would be paying me tobesomeplace else."

The guildman gazed at Methaniel for several tense moments. Finally, he settled back in his seat. "Talk."

"I want to know what interests Durinum has in this region."

"Fernum, or all around here?"

"All around."

The thief shrugged. "They ain't active in these parts. Since Rien's the closest thing to a capitol Rojinla's got, that's where the Durinians're puttin' their attention. Plus, Rein's the closest city in Rojinla to the new Durinum border."

"Their border has extended outside of the mountains?" Methaniel asked.

"They pushed their front right up to what passes for Rojinla borders last month," the informant explained. "Claim they need the room to maneuver troops 'gainst the Naemer, or some load of horse dung like that. Dunno why the council's lettin' it happen, other than they don't want to get shit on by the Durinum military."

Methaniel swallowed softly. The war was progressing without him. Despite the direness of his situation, he was very uneasy with not being involved in such things. He wanted to know more, but couldn't ask without arousing further suspicion. As it wasn't vital to him at the moment, he left the military matters alone.

"What are they about?" Methaniel asked.

"What're they ever about?" the man shrugged again. "Lookin' to recruit forces for their war. Seems they're trying to go through official channels to get an actual army put together from the city-states, but word is lately they've started callin' up any mercenaries who'll take the job."

"The council's allowing this," Methaniel stated instead of asked. "They've no way to stop the mercenaries from doing whatever they want, regardless of their official policies, any more than they can stop you."

"That's right," the man nodded.

"Go on."

"That's 'bout it. They trade and barter for goods for the war and they try to finagle for better border terms."

Methaniel nodded. "I want to know about two people. I believe they are wanted by the Durinum authorities."

"Why," his informant asked with narrowed eyes, "Are you so interested in Durinum?"

"I come from there," Methaniel replied. The closer he kept to the truth, the less likely he would be caught in a lie, he decided. "I find myself interested in their affairs, still. On this count, it's more a personal interests; these two fugitives are worth a lot of coin, and I'd like to see some of it find its way into my pocket."

A smirk played along the guildman's lips. "Who are you lookin' for?"

"A man...a Nobleman, I believe. He goes by the name of Methaniel Ohren. The other is a Wingling woman. I do not know if her name has been released."

"Name seems familiar," the man commented. "I seen the poster, I think. They want him dead, with his head brought in as proof, and nothin' else."

"And the woman?"

"Her I ain't heard about. But then, I ain't been lookin'."

Methaniel nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. "Any heads up on the kind of competition I'm looking at for the bounty?"

"Given the price? A good piece," his informant guessed. "It seems they're serious enough 'bout the whole business. . It'd probably be smart to move fast on this one if you want the coin to be yours."

"Indeed," Methaniel muttered. "One other thing. I'm interested in...a group. They're likely assassins, and possibly tied to some overarching organization."

"You'll need to tell me more than that," the man ventured.

Methaniel nodded. "I don't know how specific I can be. They've only recently come to my attention....they're good. They use bold tactics, and they don't seem to be worried about being caught. All I really know is that they operate out of Durinum."

He didn't really know that, of course. Those who sought his life could have their operations set up anywhere. But they'd attacked him in Durinum, twice, and that was all he had to go on.

"Sorry," the man scowled. "Should've asked a few years ago, before Durinum's war started getting' so ugly. That part of our informant network is gone."

"Where can I look to, then?"

The man considered for a moment, rubbing at the thick stubble at his chin. "Ever heard of the Cerlothlor Library?"

Methaniel nodded. "Yes. They are south of Rajinla...in the Airbend Plains, yes?"

"Right."

Methaniel leaned forward in his seat slightly. "If I go there, I wish to do so...discretely. I don't want to use the main road, or any well traveled roads, for that matter."

"And?" the guildman prompted.

"I'm sure you could suggest an...appropriate route."

The man smirked. "And what makes you think any route I suggest wouldn't be heavily preyed on by my guildmates?"

Methaniel reached forward with careful slowness and tapped the desktop directly in front of the bag of coins. "There is honor among thieves," he said softly.

"How you figure?" the man sneered.

"I'm useful to you for one thing; coin. You have all of mine now. And I'm still breathing."

A soft snort came from the thief, but he didn't argue. "You got a good memory, or I need to write this down?"

"Actually," Methaniel said, "I was hoping for a map."

"A map?"

"Of the area," the Nobleman explained. "As detailed as you have, showing all the major settlements in the region and as much of the surrounding wilderness as has been charted."

The thief watched him for several moments, then reached down and took the coin purse in hand. He bounced it several times, weighing it distractedly before setting it back down with a nod.

"You got a way of handlin' yourself," he commented. "For that, I'll give you a one of our best maps."

He stood and walked to the small shelf behind his desk. He rustled through several velium scrolls, then turned and set it on the desk top.

The scroll spread out before Methaniel, revealing a careful worked map. It was quite detailed, complete with markings notating rivers, valleys, hilly regions and forested thickets and groves, as well major landmarks, roads, and settlements spread out across the land. It showed from Fernum down to the bottom reaches of the Airbend Plains to the south of Rojinla lands.

The disguised Nobleman nodded his satisfaction. "And the route?"

The guildman wordlessly pointed to a trail noted upon the map's surface. Methaniel eyed it for a moment and found it to be relatively safe. He'd take a closer look later.

"Very good," Methaniel stood and accepted the re-rolled map with a nod.

"One more thing," the thief said. He reached for another rolled map on the shelf and handed it to Methaniel. "A map of the continent," he explained. " 'Case you need to find your way some other place."

"Why?" Methaniel asked frankly.

"You gave me a lotta coin for a bit of information and a map. I like bein' square with someone. If I ain't, it's bad for business."

The guildman whistled for his man to see Methaniel out and turned his dark gaze back onto the taller man. "You got guts. I like how you handle yourself. My boss would like you."

"Another time, perhaps," Methaniel replied to the unspoken offer. The guildman nodded, and his doorman escorted Methaniel out.

***

Methaniel opened the door to the room he shared with Ahma. She caught her sitting up in bed with the blankets pulled up to her stomach, clad in a tunic that looked oddlyfartoo large for her, reaching for her shortsword.

She relaxed and beamed a happy smiled up at him as he stepped into the room. He returned her smile, put the rolled up map on the dresser, and sat down in bed beside her. He took her into his arms and kissed her, deeply. Ahma shivered in his arms and pressed tightly to him.

"What's that?" Ahma said, nodding at the parchment after he released her from his kiss.

"A map," Methaniel replied, smiling down at her. Ahma reached up and slowly, somewhat shyly ran her fingers through his rich copper locks.