A Lover's Dance (Elowen & Thalion)

She rubbed across her face. Can't stay here. If I fail, I die.

Sucking in a deep breath, she ducked her head under the water.

A stream caught her, carrying her far faster than she could swim. Elowen held her breath, wrapping her arms around her legs as the water rolled her along the bottom of the deep pool.

Her lungs screamed for air. Her vision blurred, and darkness crept in at the edges. The surrounding water hummed, urging her to let go and embrace its fluidity. She clung to the memory of her father and clutched her knees tighter.

Colors wheeled before her and the need to breathe ached in her chest. A bubble escaped her mouth. Desperate, she reached for it...

Her hand broke the surface and her head followed. The stream slung her into the wall of the pond as she gulped air in ragged gasps.

There was no time to recover. Already, the torrent streaming between the rocky channel pulled at her heavy skirts. She clung to the wall of the pond, eyes burning.

But there was no way back and only one way forward.

She had to face the rapids.

Releasing her grip, Elowen let the relentless force of the water take her. It battered her into pinnacles and towers, throwing her from side to side. Pain coursed through her limbs, hammer blows followed by icy needles.

The nixie's life depended on her. Lysander's life depended on her. He would not survive Thalion's touch.

Clinging to the memory of Aurelian, she hung on to the last glimmers of consciousness.

The water slung her around a pinnacle and over a chute, throwing her high in the air. Elowen's arms and legs splayed wide.

With a splash that stung worse than Thalion's hardest blow, she struck the surface.

Warm liquid cradled her, soothing her hurts, returning life to her limbs. She couldn't move. As wavelets rippled beneath her, she lay on the surface, letting the water carry her to shore.

How long she let the shallows rock her in their gentle embrace, she could not say. It was only when the rune on her wrist pulsed hot against her bones that she groaned and rolled to her feet.

The opposite side of the cavern was a stark contrast to the raging river and deep pool. Here, the waters lapped at the shore in a serene, rhythmic motion. Moonstones nestled among the rocks and pebbles, their ethereal glow a beacon of hope in the darkness.

Elowen laughed, her raw throat protesting the sound, but the sight of her goal within her reach gave her strength.

She dragged her battered body toward the moonstones. The soothing water receded, leaving her trembling on the rocky shore. As her fingers closed around one of the shimmering pebbles, a comforting energy coursed through her, a balm for her bruised spirit.

The wall of the cavern writhed, shifting from earth to roots. The gnarled tendrils encasing the pool loosened their grip, parting to reveal a passageway leading back to the glade.

Limbs trembling with relief, Elowen ascended with shaky steps. The water drained from her skirts as she walked, little runnels curling over her flesh. By the time she reached the golden light of Ealadha's Glade, her dress was whole and dried, her hair shining in a dark halo about her head.

"Well done, aspirant," Orinthas said, his deep voice reverberating through her. "Share with me what you have learned."

Elowen plopped down before the tree, her legs too tired to carry her another step. "I don't know." She stared at the lavender eyes. "Water endures?"

"That is one lesson." Orinthas sighed and opened his roots, revealing a small stream running hidden through the glade. "Observe, child, and learn another."

Elowen followed the route of the tiny brook as it meandered among the snaking tendrils. It pooled where there was space and flowed through whatever channel it could find. The water shaped to its environment.

Memories of the past two days flashed through her mind. Her desire had shaped to Thalion's need. She had yielded to her enemy and the shame of it bowed her head.

But if she had not given way, if she could not find pleasure with Thalion, would her people have survived? Would she have made the long walk through The Darkling Forest?

Elowen looked up, meeting the gaze of the ancient tree spirit. "Water can take many forms. It yields with grace when it must, but does not cease being water."

"Very good." A branch reached down and petted Elowen's hair. "But there is more."

Fingers braiding together, she fought back tears born from exhaustion. "I... can't."

"Rest a few moments before I send you back to your impatient lord. Let me tell you a story." Orinthas shaped roots into a rest for her back.

Elowen closed her eyes, and the deep voice of the tree washed over her.

"Long ago, when the world was still young, and the magic of the land flowed freely, a humble stream meandered through the heart of the forest. It was a lively, dancing spirit, and tumbled over the land, bring life and substance to plants and creatures alike."

A tender leaf stroked against Elowen's cheek, and she leaned against the oak's roots, a smile lifting her heart as he continued.

"Fire ravaged the banks of the little brook, but still it endured. Lighting struck its surface and earth shattered its rocks, but still it flowed with purpose, adopting every change into its path. Over time, it swelled and roared, becoming a mighty river that cascaded over cliffs, and carving a deep ravine. The very one you fell into, Elowen."

She opened her eyes, meeting the tree's lavender gaze. "I nearly died there."

"If you had not been worthy, you would have died there." Orinthas raised his wooden brows. "Hush, the tale is not yet done. The stream carved its path through the land, but time steals all things—even water. And yet, its spirit lingers. Even the stone you hold in your hand, abraded by the relentless caress of water, carries the memory of the once-mighty river."

Elowen turned the moonstone over in her palm. She had lost the trail-finder somewhere in the water, but somehow, she knew it didn't matter. It would find its way.

Orinthas smiled at her, bark creaking. "Water is more than just a filler of vessels. It is the essence of life. Water can heal, cleanse, and nourish, but it can also break the mightiest barriers and carve the deepest paths. And it is your road to walk, should you choose it."

The words shocked through her, and the memory of her father's haggard face flashed before her vision. "No." She rose to her feet. "No, I promised. I learned..." She swallowed and held out the moonstone. "I endured. Please. I must go."

Orinthas heaved a sigh that rustled his leaves. "Yes." The tree gestured with a mighty limb, and a golden path opened between the trunks protecting the glade. Thalion and Diarmuid waited at the far end. "Go now and pay your debt."

She closed her hand on the moonstone and rose. Halfway to the path, she turned back and curtseyed. "Thank you, Orinthas."

The wooden mouth smiled. "You are welcome, Elowen."

Chapter Six: A Perilous Bargain

Elowen looked away from Diarmuid as they walked through the tall trees of the Whisperwood. Thalion had brought them home and sent her with the priest to return the moonstone to the nixie.

Back at the camp, her husband prepared to punish her.

She swallowed down a knot of bile. What is he going to do?

The thought would not leave her alone, distracting her from Diarmuid's naming of the plants and creatures they passed.

At last, the priest stopped and put a hand on her shoulder. "Worry serves no purpose. Focus on the task at hand and let go what you cannot control. Do you plan to run away?"

Eyes burning, Elowen shook her head.

The priest rubbed her shoulders. "Then accept that your punishment is coming and move on."

Water endures.

She would survive whatever Thalion chose. Even a whipping could be borne. In her imagination, leather laid a harsh caress along her spine. A frisson of desire tingled through her, and she braided her fingers together, belly curling over from shame.

She looked up as the silence stretched out and met Diarmuid's crystalline blue gaze.

Elowen blushed red as an apple, goosebumps raising the hair on her arms. "I'll try."

He squeezed her shoulder. "You have survived the Darkling Forest and Orinthas found worth in you. You should take the lesson there and find worth in yourself."

Elowen looked away, and he sighed, releasing her with a pat. "Come. The sooner this is behind us, the better."

They continued to the nixie's glade.

Elowen's memories had not deceived her—the small forest clearing remained enchanting. The birds twittered and moondrop flowers nodded by the babbling brook.

The nixie peeked out from behind a tree as they came in, her blue form wavering against the trunk.

Diarmuid beckoned to her. "You are safe enough, little one."

The fairy edged out from the tree. "I didn't mean to trap her."

"It's alright." Elowen stepped forward and opened her hand, the moonstone's opalescence glowing on her palm. "I got it."

The nixie's mouth dropped open, showing her needlepoint teeth. "How...?"

She flashed across the glade, but Diarmuid closed Elowen's hands before the fay could take the moonstone. "Acknowledge that this is payment of the debt and bring the water."

The nixie stamped her little foot at his words, but Elowen kept her fingers firmly shut, and the fairy creature turned to the brook.

"I acknowledge the payment." The nixie shot Diarmuid a dirty look. "I'll be right back... aspirant."

She hovered above the stream, slight frame expanding as though she gulped air, and she dipped beneath the surface, vanishing from sight.

Elowen leaned forward, but no shape swam in the water. "Where is she?"

"There is a root to her power buried somewhere in the stream," Diarmuid said. "To release you from that rune, she must wash your wrist with water from that place."

Elowen turned her wrist and traced across the black puckered skin. "If I learned the ogham script, would I be able to craft a spell like this?"

"Well, not exactly like that." Diarmuid gave her a quick grin. "Queen Mab is a law unto herself. But you will be able to craft agreements with the blackthorn sigil and power them with fairy dust. Are you thinking of taking Lord Thalion up on his offer?"

"No!" Elowen tucked her hands behind her.

Diarmuid raised his brows, but before he could reply, the nixie rose from the water like a breaching salmon in breeding season. A dark stone bowl filled her small hands, crystal-clear spring water slopping over the sides. The fay's ethereal skin glistened like diamonds as she approached Elowen and Diarmuid.

With a cautious glance at the priest, the nixie reached out for the moonstone, her eyes wide, a blue tongue licking over her needlepoint teeth. Elowen gently placed the precious gem into the nixie's outstretched hand, the relief of a debt cleared washing over her.

The nixie's fingers closed around the moonstone, her expression softening as she clutched it close to her heart. "Hold out your wrist."

Elowen extended her arm, and the nixie poured. As the cool liquid cascaded over Elowen's wrist, the puckered rune smoothed out. The water washed away the dark mark, leaving her skin unblemished once more.

Now I just need to get through Thalion's punishment.

A bolt of desire burned between Elowen's legs, and she gave the nixie a tremulous smile. "Thank you."

"We're not done." Diarmuid grabbed the fay's retreating hand. "Where is her rune, little one?"

The nixie rolled her eyes, but with a sigh, she fished out an amulet from her stone bowl. "Wasted though this is on a half-human, I guess it is yours. You came to a nixie grove, picked a moondrop, and the old man gave you a moonstone." On the end of a delicate chain, a silver rune dangled and twisted, its surface rippling blue. "This is the rune of a water eirnacht."

Elowen closed her hands behind her back. "I can't learn magic."

"No one is expecting you to, child." Diarmuid pushed her forward. "But you entered a contract with a nixie and fulfilled it. You must take the pendant." He smiled kindly. "Think of it as a reminder of all you have learned this day."

With his hand on her elbow, pushing her forward, she extended a shaking palm.

The nixie grinned. "Well, I guess I don't have to worry about you stealing my other moondrops for your apprentice trials."

Elowen slipped the chain over her head, and the rune dangled between her breasts next to Thalion's pendant. "No." She tried to ignore the cool touch of the metal. "I've learned my lesson. I don't wish for another."

Together with Diarmuid, she departed the grove, leaving the nixie happily planting her moonstone by the brook. The relief of the debt paid vanished the moment the glade's trunks closed behind them. With every step on the way back, Elowen's stomach cramped tighter.

Thalion had promised her punishment. A pulse beat between her legs, but fear hunched her shoulders together. What was he going to do?

The trees thinned out and vanished, the looming waystones appearing. A new item had sprouted in the camp—a tall wooden post as thick as Thalion's legs, with a rope wound around the top. Elowen froze as she gasped for breath at the edge of the camp.

A whipping post.

"Courage." Diarmuid's dark eyes shone with sympathy.

Thalion waited by the post, Celia next to him. She held a deerskin flogger, the tips swaying against her leg. Elowen clutched at her pendant with one hand and wrapped the other around her belly. She forced stiff legs to complete the journey.

Every part of her trembled like a leaf in the wind when she stopped before him. "M-My... My l-lord."

He cupped her face and ran his thumbs over her cheekbones. "I'll give you a choice of punishments. You can strip naked here before the guard. I'll tie you to the post and Celia will flog you."

The bottom dropped out of Elowen's stomach, everything inside her knotting together. However much it might hurt, kneeling naked before the guards.... Tears burned in her eyes even as her thighs spasmed together.

Could he make her want even her own shame?

She could barely get the words out, but she needed to know. "What's the second choice?"

His eyes glittered, a dark smile etched onto his face. "I'll punish you in the tent. But you'll pay for the privacy with pain. I'll replace the flogger with my belt."

The words groped at Elowen's groin, and she closed her eyes, moth wings fluttering through her belly. He wore a wide leather band, long enough to wrap twice around his waist and thick as her thumb. Fear pulsed in the back of her throat and her buttocks clenched together as though she lay on her belly, once more waiting for his cock.

He pressed his thumbs into the soft flesh above her cheekbones. "Which will it be?"

Kneeling naked in the open.... Her eyes flickered to Celia, and the guard smiled, a hunger burning in her gaze. Elowen shuddered away from the desire that thrummed through her. Well brought up human noblewomen didn't long for a naked whipping under the ravenous gaze of female fae.

Her legs shook, thighs shivering against each other beneath her skirt. "P-Privacy, please. My lord."

His lips brushed across her forehead, the silver strands of his hair mixing with her dark curls. "Then go to the tent and wait for me." He drew back and his brows arched. "Naked and on your knees."

Stumbling, her eyes fixed on the ground, Elowen obeyed. The dress went into her travel chest, chemise over it and she knelt, clasping her hands before her. Spiders crawled in her chest and her butt cheeks clenched tighter and tighter.

But Thalion made her wait, and she grew used to the fear. In the still darkness of the tent, an idea wormed past the pulsing desire and the icy cold tendrils. She checked her memories again, but could not recall a time when he had hurt her without some sort of reason.

Cold air bit at her breasts, drawing a short, silent gasp as her nipples swelled and hardened. As the tent flap closed behind him, she met his starry gaze. "My lord...May we bargain?"

He stood so close to her that his moonflower scent flooded her mouth. His hand tangled in her hair. "You're not escaping punishment."

"N-No." Elowen sucked in a deep breath, her head at an unnatural angle. "But if I will submit to more, will you give me answers?"

His rich basso laugh tumbled over her, raising goosebumps. "Clever girl." He pulled back her head to an even harsher angle. "Three extra strokes anywhere I please. I'll allow three questions and give you truth for each of them."

Her fingers tingled. Three. It was going to hurt. But to have honest answers... "Agreed, my lord."

He pulled her up by the hair and dragged her to the travel chests. "Take off my belt."

As they had that first night, her trembling fingers tangled in his clothing and he did nothing to help her, standing patiently as she jerked at the buckle. She knew why she was taking off his belt. Knew what he was going to do with it, and her knees shook under her.

At last, the long leather strap slid off his waist with a threatening hiss. Thalion took it from her. "Hands on the chest, ass in the air."

Elowen obeyed, and he kicked her legs wider, the breeze curling through the tent playing over her exposed womanhood. Only her braced hands kept her standing, icy tendrils of dread invading her body.

He rubbed a warm hand over her buttocks. "Twelve strokes and three extra. Are you ready?"

"Y-Yes, my lord."

"Good, because you're keeping count."

The belt sang through the air and smacked against her flesh. Agony blossomed where it struck, leaving a searing mark across her rump.

"One."

His hand smacked onto the mark, and she cried out, hopping from foot to foot.

"One who?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"One. My lord."

"Good. And keep still or we'll start again." He petted her ass, his hand gentle, and Elowen braced herself.

Again the belt sang, this time cutting across her thighs, smacking against the back of her womanhood. "Two. My lord."

Moisture gathered in her eyes, even as the pulsing need fluttered low in her body. By the sixth stroke tears dripped into a pool on the chest, and she whispered the count with every painful strike. With each blow, her inner walls fluttered and the moisture soaking the fine hairs of her womanhood increased. By the twelfth, only fear of restarting the terrible punishment kept her on her feet, and she ached with desperate need.

You promised him three extra strokes.

Elowen cringed lower, sobbing as her husband ran his hands over her hot buttocks, his touch gentle.

"Well done." His voice mesmerized her as he played over the painful strokes of the belt. "But this isn't over. Are you ready?"

She curved her back, trying to crab walk away. But he would make her do it—she had already consented.

"Y-Yes, my lord."

He stroked down the length of her spine. "You bargain like a human. Three strokes you promised and didn't even make sure I would use the belt."

Elowen's blood thundered in her ears, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "M-My lord...?"

He lifted a thin cane carved of dark wood from the shadows next to the chest. "I could give you three cuts."

Bile burned in the back of Elowen's throat, and she trembled like a leaf. "P-Please, m-my lord..."

"Please what?" The cane whistled through the air and cracked on the chest beside her hands. "You want the cane?"

Gulping down tears, she shook her head. "N-No."

"We'll have to see if we can change that, some night soon." He drew the tip of the wooden wand down her spine, all the way to the cleft between her cheeks. "Perhaps you'll beg me for it yet." He kissed her nape. "Stand up."

Shivering, Elowen rose, the cane drawing her gaze, even after he set it down. He cupped her face, running his thumbs along her lips. She suckled at his fingers, her womanhood pulsing with need.