The Best Medicine Ch. 01

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An elf princess and a most unlikely knight in shining armor.
17.3k words
4.79
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Part 1 of the 6 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 07/01/2009
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Evil Alpaca
Evil Alpaca
3,659 Followers

This story is a bit wordy and fairly long, so if you are looking for immediate gratification, you might want to look elsewhere.

The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between these character and events and any real person or events is strictly coincidental . . . and pretty darn impressive seeing as it is a science fiction story. Do not reproduce or copy this story without the consent of the author.

In my magical, mixed-up world, characters don't worry about STDs or unwanted pregnancies except occasionally as a plot device. The author encourages the practice of safe (and hopefully satisfying) sex.

While this is a science-fiction story, it may at different points contain sexual behavior that might fall into other categories. You can rest assured however that there will be NO depictions of Non-Consent, Mind Control, or Incest for any purpose other than as plot devices, and certainly not for sexual arousal. Anything else is fair game.

The following story is based in the same world as "To Protect and Serve." While this series can stand alone, reading the afore mentioned series would be helpful.

Proofread by "Cristalball"

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"You are being asinine," the Shepherd said, irritated beyond reason with his self-righteous nephew. "The Unveiling is moving forward, and the elves cannot afford to hide out any longer. Humans are encroaching further and further into the forests --"

"Do not presume to tell me what is happening in the world," King Tarrin Ralisen replied coolly. "The humans are savages. There are reasons why we magical races have distanced ourselves from them."

The Shepherd found himself wishing again that his oldest son and his son's wife had not died all those years ago, leaving this clown, the Shepherd's other son, in charge of the elves. About a year earlier, the Tribunal, an organization of the most powerful representatives of each of the magical races, had announced that the werewolves, vampires, elves, and all other magical races would announce their presence to the human world. The world had become too small, especially now that the Greater Dragons were returning after being "extinct" for thousands upon thousands of years.

Not all of the magical races were happy about the decision, and a group of elves were amongst the most ardent opposition to the plan. The group was relatively small and certainly did not represent the opinions of the majority of elves, but they did consist of a number of very powerful members of the elvish community, including many of the remaining nobility up to and including the king. Many of the elves wanted to disband the monarchy entirely after becoming familiar with modern democracies, but structures like that were slow to change.

"The humans are no better or worse than we are in regards to savagery. They may not have magic as a race, but they can breed and they can think and they develop technologies that we can't. We cannot exist apart from them any longer, and the Elvish Crown cannot exist in a vacuum."

"We have never needed the other races, and we can take care of ourselves. It is you and the Tribunal who fills our peoples' heads with your doomsday talk and nonsense that has brought us to this disastrous decision."

"So will the Elvish Crown directly rebel against the Tribunal?" the Shepherd asked meaningfully.

Instantly, King Tarrin was on guard. The old monarchies still had a great deal of power, but to openly defy the Tribunal was effectively a death sentence. "No, but we have every right to inform our people of the truth."

"If you were really interested in 'informing of the truth,' you'd tell me where my granddaughter is. Whatever lies you have been filling her head with --"

"She is of age and has decided that she wants no contact with you," Tarrin said smugly, glad to have the upper hand.

"For which I have only your word," the Preacher replied. "Strange how that seems unwilling to communicate her wishes to a Tribunal member directly. She is the true heir to the throne, after all."

The elvish king stiffened at that jab. The Shepherd had been king once, but had passed the crown to his oldest son when he had accepted the position on the Tribunal, forsaking his own name. Tarrin was still bitter about his brother getting that honor. When the new king and queen had died, Tarrin had been the only one left in the line of succession except for Princess Vanesse, who had been too young to assume the duties of the crown. She had become the new king's ward, and would take the crown when she reached the age of fifty. The Shepherd enjoyed reminding the king that his time on the throne was temporary, even though he would have it for another twenty years.

"And I shall make sure that the crown is in good hands," King Tarrin replied stiffly. "Now if you please, I have appointments with the other Tribunal members." Tarrin stood still. As much as he detested his father, one did not walk out on one of the Tribunal.

"Very well. Good day," the Shepherd said, waving his son off. He had never quite figured out where he had gone wrong with this one, but Tarrin had always been arrogant. Marrying that shrew of a woman certainly had not helped. Tarrin's wife came from one of the most socially and politically conservative families on the entire planet, and she had steadily turned Tarrin even further in that direction.

"Well, that went well," came a voice from behind Shepherd.

The elf smiled slightly. The feeling of power in the room rose tenfold as the Alpha entered the chamber. The Alpha was the most dominant lycanthrope on the planet. He had to be in order to represent all of his kind on the TribunalTribunal, and he would remain there until someone bigger and badder came along to take that spot away. The lycanthropes were a brutal group at times, but at least they were logical.

"Doesn't he have an appointment with you?" the Shepherd asked.

"He can bloody well wait." The Alpha pulled up one of the ridiculously comfortable chairs the Tribunal had around the complex and leaned back. He was a massive individual that looked like the mountain man he had once been, and he was certainly more suited for living in the wild than in the boardroom. "So he's still being a little bitch?"

The Shepherd nodded. "Not how I would have phrased it, but you seem to have gotten the point. Fifteen years . . . I have not even seen my granddaughter in fifteen years. Much of it has been my own schedule, but still . . . time seems to fly for those of us who fail to appreciate it." He looked towards the door that the king had walked through. "Have you any word for me, old friend?"

The Alpha grunted. "Actually, I just might."

The Shepherd's eyes snapped to his colleague and friend. "Don't toy with me, Alpha. Not about this."

"Don't get your panties in a wad," the big man replied calmly. "Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Such as when --"

"Yeah, except for that. You know, I recall you having a lot of fun, so I don't know why you keep complaining about it."

"Alpha, I have large black spots in my memory about an entire year. I have only your word that I was having fun."

"Yeah yeah. Anyway, I got word from a werebear up in Alaska of something that might be of interest to you."

"Alaska?"

"Yeah. He told me that he'd found a spot up near Fairbanks that reeked of elf magic. He used to attend court when he was dating this spry young thing --"

"Back on topic," the Shepherd growled.

"Okay, well he recognized the magical signature from court as elvish. A couple of problems though. One, he doesn't see anything. Two, he keeps getting this strange desire to go away. Three, it's smack-dab in the middle of the territory he just gained by driving out the old bear."

"What's strange about that?"

"The old bear used to be in the employee of the Elvish Crown. Something strange like that would probably have been reported --"

"Unless the bear was on the take. It would be a brilliant location to hide though." The Shepherd sighed and sat next to his fellow Tribunal member. "I need to know if she's there. Technically, he's right in that she's an adult and does not have to talk to me, and only the entire Tribunal can force a member of the monarchy to appear. I do not wish to turn a familial matter into a global scene."

The Alpha raised one bushy eyebrow. "What did you always tell me about elves and back room politics?"

"That we invented them," the Shepherd replied.

"So why are you playing this fair?"

"Because I'm not simply another elf anymore. I'm a member of this Tribunal."

"So? That never stops me from influencing my people. Such as getting some of them to look for your granddaughter."

"For which I am grateful. I'm concerned about her. I have heard rumors that Tarrin wants to marry off Vanesse to Baron Glennon Montain, one of the king's toadies. And Montain is not someone I want in charge of anything, much less my granddaughter and my people's future." He stroked his jaw for several moments. "I need to make sure she's there and what her situation is. Does she truly despise me now, or is that a fabrication of her uncle. How much does she know about her powers?"

"Got a plan?"

"They must be getting supplies from somewhere, even if they have magically hidden their lodging. Suppliers can be bribed, but extraction is something I am unsure of. Without an edict from the Tribunal, I cannot force the local lords to help, and I don't want to start a cross-territory conflict. The only group in America that might be inclined to help anyway is in Atlanta, and they're a bit busy right now."

"I think prepping to be the poster children for the Unveiling, trying to control the most important territory on the continent or in the world, and overseeing the resurrection of the Greater Dragons all probably count as being more than 'a bit busy.' They're spread fairly thin right now, even with the extra enforcers, now that Banshee has taken over down in Savannah."

"So all I need is someone who can help get my granddaughter from Alaska to Georgia safely without attracting unnecessary attention from local lords along the way and . . . what?" The Shepherd paused when he saw a look of deep thought etched on his friend's face.

"I . . . I think I know some people who could help."

The Shepherd became suspicious. "Who?"

"Well, they're mercenaries and --"

"Mercenaries? Around an elvish princess?"

"These guys are capable of going everywhere in the country. Hell, they even ride down to Mexico a lot. And I know the leader --"

The Shepherd's eyes shot open. "You are not seriously thinking of sending Joker's Wild after my granddaughter! Are you? Alpha, those people are insane, even for lycanthropes."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," the Alpha grumbled.

"You know what I mean. They answer to no authority but Farmer anyway. Well, and you, but . . . and they're bikers!"

"Yes, and they also sell and distribute pot, as well as arrange for the sale and delivery of 'unusual' items to private collectors."

"Like what?"

"Apparently there was this guy in Nebraska who wanted to mount a battleship's anti-aircraft gun on the top of his hunting lodge --"

"That can't be legal," the Shepherd said. "But then, neither is selling marijuana. So you want me to put my granddaughter's fate in the hands of a bunch of psychopathic, criminal bikers?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Well, let's find out if she's there first. Then . . . then I'll decide." The Shepherd left unsaid, 'Hopefully by then, I'll think of something else.'

----- -----------------------

Two weeks later . . .

----- -----------------------

Princess Vanesse Bellethial sat quietly on a bench in the magically maintained garden in her own little private sanctuary. She had been living here for ten years, ever since her uncle had brought her here five years after her parents' death. She had been fifteen when it had happened, her parents killed by a rogue sorcerer. Her uncle had told her that there was growing resentment towards elves, and had hidden her away from the world.

She did not remember feeling threatened when she was younger, but she had been ignorant of politics back then. Besides a few humans, she had not seen a non-elf in a very long time. Just like her uncle had said, she felt safe. And bored. Very, very bored.

"There you are," Trina said, appearing behind Vanesse without warning. "You need to let me know where you're going."

Vanesse rolled her eyes. Her bodyguard was a bit of a busybody. "What could possibly happen in the garden? Maniacal man-eating caterpillars?"

"Don't laugh about such things. I heard that there are over fifty caterpillar-related deaths every year in New Jersey alone," Trina replied, her face composed and stoic.

Vanesse laughed. Trina was far too pretty to be the straight man, but somehow it worked for her. "I'll keep that in mind."

Trina sat her six foot, slim frame down next to the woman whom she would be protecting for the rest of their lives. Vanesse was royalty, so she was given a battle-dancer as a guard on the day she was born. Trina was only twenty years older than Vanesse herself, a pittance in the lifespan of an elf, and she knew more about Vanesse than anyone else.

"Do that. I don't want you to be another caterpillar statistic." Trina folded her hands properly in her lap and stared out at the garden, except for the occasional glance over at her companion. Physically, the two of them were like night and day. Trina was tall, slim, with long brown hair, small breasts, and a ripped physique. She was considered pretty, she supposed, but she always felt a bit gangly next to Vanesse. The Princess was so beautiful, exuding a softy, sultry sexuality that she was not even aware of. The elves by nature were slim, which was one reason why Vanesse's ample curves stood out. She was only five feet, five inches tall, with enormous breasts, an hourglass figure, and long white-blonde hair that had been the envy of the elvish court. Those rose-colored eyes looked out at the world with an impish glee that even fifteen years of "protective custody" had not extinguished.

"Tomorrow is supply day," Vanesse said absently.

"Was there something you wanted added to the order?"

Vanesse stared at her own hands, wishing that she had brought her knitting so that they would have something to do. "One of those portable phones that have become so fashionable?"

Trina kept her composure, as she often did when Vanesse spoke this way. And as usual, she did not say what she wanted to say, but instead, "Your uncle would not approve."

"I know," the Princess said wistfully. "I just wish --"

"Yes? Wish what?"

"Never mind. I know what he would say. 'The enemies of the elves could track you through the technologies of man.' I just . . . I just don't get it. I've studied all the histories, but I still do not see why the other races have turned against us. My father was not so threatened, was he?"

"I was not part of your father's court or council. I do not know what his life was like." 'There,' Trina thought, 'that was close enough to the truth.'

"How am I supposed to lead the elvish kingdom if I don't understand why we're feuding with the rest of the world? Does Uncle Tarrin really think that I would be so easily swayed by the opinions of the other races that I would sacrifice the security of my people?"

Inside her mind, Trina was effectively counting to ten. Outside, "I have no place offering you council on political matters."

"Bull-poop," Vanesse shot back. "You're my best friend."

"I'm also your guardian. It will be your job to lead. It will be my job to beat off the throngs of adoring admirers."

Vanesse squinted her eyes at her companion. 'Okay, I think that she was joking that time.' With Trina, it was often hard to tell. "AND you're my best friend. And in case you haven't noticed, I don't exactly have a lot of friends."

"That's not true," Trina replied softly, not letting it show how much that remark had actually stung, "the entire staff --"

"That's just it. Staff. I mean, they're nice folk for the most part, but they're only here because I'm the future queen, and no one talks to me. Not TO me, if you know what I mean."

"Rarely if ever."

"I mean, why can't I go out into the world? I'm not stupid, am I?" Vanesse stared at her friend, waiting for a smart-alecky comment. Trina just sat there, biting her lip. "Okay, maybe my necromancy isn't coming along like I'd hoped, but with you around it's not like I'd be helpless." She stared back towards the garden, but obviously was not seeing anything IN it. "And I've learned to control the urges --"

Trina clenched her fists, but again said nothing. She hated keeping things from Vanesse, but this . . . this almost was one where time and time again Trina was tempted to break her Word. But like all the times before, she knew that she would not. "You know yourself best." Then came the part that bothered Trina the most. The lowering of the shoulders, the slight release of breath . . . the giving up.

"Could you make sure that there are some of those dark chocolate M&M's on this shipment?" Vanesse muttered, her mind going absent again.

Trina nodded. Those candies were one of the few pleasures afforded the Princess. She studied magic, she studied politics, and she hung out with Trina. That was the life of Princess Vanesse Bellethial.

"I'll go check. Perhaps when I get back, we can look through some of your old books?" Trina said. Reading some of the diaries left by her parents brought real joy to Vanesse's life.

"That would be nice. Thank you."

Trina headed over to the garage where deliveries were made to check with Morbis, the anal retentive accountant who oversaw day-to-day operations at the Princess's palace in exile. She loathed that such a flower as Vanesse had been hidden away in the frozen north. She should be out there experiencing life, seeing the world, and learning the truth . . . the truth about herself and her powers and the world. King Tarrin Ralisen did not want his niece to know the truth, and Trina was helpless to intervene. After all, she had given her Word.

"Lady Trina," the weasel-faced man in the garage's office area said when she strode in, his eyes almost instinctively seeking out what feminine assets Trina possessed. "What can I do for you?"

'Not what you'd like, you little slimeball,' she thought. 'I may have gone without companionships for ten years, but I'll be damned if I'm going to ever touch you.' "Just checking on something for the Princess. Want to make sure her candy is on the order sheet."

"Of course, of course. Anything to make her more comfortable."

'Anything but telling her the truth,' Trina thought bitterly. "Thank you. Where's the order sheet?"

"I believe that it's over there on top of the hutch."

Trina wanted to throttle the man. The form would not be there, but she would be force to stand with her back to him and let him stare at her ass, then he would get around to showing her what she wanted.

"Not here."

"Really? Hmm, wait . . . here it is."

"On top of your desk. Again," Trina sighed, grabbing the list and moving to the other side of the office. "Big order this month."

"Well that's what happens when you have a visiting dignitary."

Trina's senses went on alert. "Dignitary?" She grabbed Morbis by his shirt and lifted him out of his chair. "What dignitary? You know all visitors to the compound must be run by me first."

"You are NOT in charge!" Morbis squeaked.

"Visitors to the compound represent potential threats to the Princess, and that makes it my business."

"Just calm down," the cowering bureaucrat said. "It's Baron Glennon Montain (cough). He's on the (gag) free access list. Those are the ones that don't have to go through you."

Evil Alpaca
Evil Alpaca
3,659 Followers