A Matter of Blood Pt. 01

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In a world of magic Finn loves his sister then loses it all.
9k words
4.73
107.6k
423

Part 1 of the 9 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 08/28/2018
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INTRODUCTION

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If you've read my other work you will find this to be a bit of a departure. This is a novel-length work set in the fantasy genre. It is categorized as incest because all sex scenes are between family members.

Incest in this setting is not precisely taboo but nor is it wholly accepted. Nobles (or Purebloods) are expected to practice it to maintain the magical power of their lineage but even then the common folk regard it as not quite right. The drama here comes from politics and how personal things can get when your closest lovers are your sisters and mother and your romantic rivals could include brother, uncle, or possibly even your father.

This will be regularly updated. While I cannot control the speed of approvals, I will be submitting at least one part every two weeks, and I have created a buffer in case real life interferes with this schedule. By the time you read the first part, the next two will be written. The final result should take around nine parts and 90,000 words to complete. My writing strategy is designed to prevent the completely understandable issues that afflict the plans of writers when real life causes delays. Hopefully I will be able to avoid frustrating my readers.

Some content notes follow so no one is surprised by things that they aren't interested in or that might cause distress. I wrote this for the enjoyment of myself and my readers and I never wish to cause discomfort.

-All participants in sexual acts are eighteen or over.

-There are definitely erotic scenes throughout (about one per part) but they happen when appropriate and natural for the story, and maybe not often enough for everyone.

-This story features one male main character with multiple female partners, all of whom are close kin. The relationships are still based on love but I understand that some prefer monogamy in their erotica.

-There are depictions of war and violence. They're not particularly gruesome, but they are there.

-Physical abuse is described in at least one scene.

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PROLOGUE

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When I saw the riders I knew I was fucked.

I was just moving out of the high desert of the Wastes. My horse had died three days ago and I missed him. He was probably my best friend, but also the going was slow. I was starting to see stands of pine and the terrain was changing to rolling foothills. There was less stone and dirt and more grass. Well, dead grass, anyway. It was the end of summer out here, and it was beginning to freeze at night. I hadn't felt warm in weeks.

I gripped my spear slightly harder as I heard the faint hoofbeats on stone. When I looked up I cursed myself. How had I not sensed them sooner? They certainly weren't being stealthy. They weren't rushing, but moving at a steady rate. Their scouts must have seen me, so they knew I wouldn't be able to outrun them.

I briefly considered altering my path and breaking east or west up one of the foothills, but distance was deceptive, and they weren't really steep enough yet to dissuade horse-bound pursuit. No. It was better to save my strength and wait.

The last of my hope disappeared as I began to distinguish them clearly. There were twenty or thirty, all armed. Too many for a patrol, no evidence of cargo or carts for a caravan. I recognized the banner. They were elite light cavalry. Men I had trained with, possibly.

Well, today they were killers sent by my father, so I would have to fight. Surrender would not gain me my life, but might prolong my death. Better to die with a little dignity, maybe kill half of them. If I couldn't have the life or people that I wanted, then I could at least leave a story people told ruefully around campfires.

I drew upon the life of the air, and made it unstable around me. It was simple and crude, but no arrow would strike me through that. I wanted them to have to come close. To come within range of my spear and my magic. Both were lethal.

They came closer and slowed down. No one made a move to dismount, nor were any weapons drawn. I took my pack off and rotated my shoulders. I was stiff from all this goddamn cold and walking. People who tell stories about adventure usually skip the cold and the walking. I can tell you it makes up a good portion of my life, now.

I took my stance, feet far apart, right side towards my enemies. Spear held lightly in two hands. It wasn't the best position for everyone, but experience had taught me that it was ideal for reacting quickly.

The lead horse rode out a little way and the rider took off her helm. I was not surprised to find that I knew her well.

"Kyrza. Its been a while," I said, smiling despite myself. We were going to try and kill each other shortly but it was good to see a familiar face. "You look well."

"It's Captain Kyrza now, Anprionsa Finn."

She used my formal title. She didn't have to, anymore. No one did. It was a kindness, showing me respect at the end.

"Good for you. I'm sorry that I'm going to kill you."

She smiled and laughed. I could forgive her this, she outnumbered me by at least thirty to one. But I knew their strategies. They would have one, maybe two mages. Enough to prevent me from doing anything particularly slow or spectacular, but I could still fight with quick invocations. I was never known for my power back at Marche Grodayn, so they would think that enough. Times had changed.

I had been killing with magic now for years. I had found that fear, sorrow, and rage were excellent teachers. As we spoke I tried to figure out how many I could kill with lightning before any could close with me. Kyrza was their leader, and probably the best with sword or horse, so she would die first, regrettably. Hard situations made for hard choices.

"Must we fight? You could simply come with us. We could talk around the fire as in old times and share stories."

Now it was my turn to laugh. We'd fooled around a little, back in the day. It was nice to have a bed partner when you were stuck outriding the frontier. She clearly thought that meant that I trusted her. Well, I suppose, in a way, I did. She was a good solder and I trusted her to act like one. Good soldiers used deception when it could make their job easier.

"So I can be stabbed in the back while I drink warm wine and snuggle up to you? No. I think we both know how this ends. It's just a matter of getting there. I don't have a lot of pride left, but I'm not as foolish as I was."

Her smile turned to a slight frown, and for some reason she blushed a little in embarrassment. I don't know why. It wasn't uncommon for people to sleep together in the field. And I used to be a prince, and everyone knew princes expected things from their subordinates that others did not. I'd never pushed her, but there was nothing for her to be ashamed of.

"Come on, Finn. I'm not here to fight you. We're here to talk. Would I lie to you?"

"If it saved the lives of your men, you would. You'd lie to you former lover and poison him, I think, if not worse. You've always been a good leader. I don't hold it against you."

She was a bit frustrated before, but now she was starting to look worried. She briefly looked behind her, towards the center of her men. That would have been an ideal time for me to start killing, but even now, in my present state, I was loathe to start the conflict with deceit. Maybe I still had a little honor left in me. I resented it. It had never given me anything but trouble.

"I don't think..." she started, but I was tired of waiting.

"Enough talk. You've come for me. I'm here. Let's get this over with."

I began to draw in the magic of air and fire, feeling it build in my mind. I spun and switched my grip on my spear to one that I could throw with. It looked to be too large for me to do that effectively but many dead men knew better. I braced myself.

Fuck it, I thought, at least the survivors would remember my death.

"Really? You're going to throw your only weapon away? I taught you better than that."

It was another voice. A little higher pitched. Throaty. Feminine. Commanding. I recognized her too, of course. I even got an erection because my cock didn't really care how much trouble the rest of me was in.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I said softly, "this is entirely unfair."

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CHAPTER ONE

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5 Years Earlier

"Wake up, you lazy fucking bastard," my half-sister said, but with love.

"I'll have you know my mother and father were married." I said, needling her about her mother being a concubine of my father. Not that she was ashamed of it. I certainly wasn't. I loved her and would have done anything for her. I still do, to my dismay. I opened my eyes.

Merwyd was there. My dream. I had no illusions about being worthy of her. I did not idealize her. No, I knew her flaws as she knew mine. But her importance to me cannot be overstated. I trusted all of my family, but her implicitly.

Right now she was beside me, in my bed. Her dark red hair, already beginning to streak with white, was mussed and spread all over her pillow. Her form, petite and curvy was curled up next to mine. She'd kicked off her sheets in the night and was, unsurprisingly, nude. Her breasts were on the small side but they fit her perfectly. Her hips were wide and she walked with a little swing that I could identify from a hundred strides away. Her skin was like her mother's, ivory and with some freckles scattered over her to remind us that she was mortal. She hated her freckles but I loved to kiss them. This was where she liked to sleep when we were both home. Well, also sleep. Mostly, we fucked.

Last night had been especially passionate as we'd not seen each other in four weeks. We were not exclusive to each other, but we were close to it. If father or my brother demanded her then she'd have to go to get them. But that didn't happen very often. Likewise if my mother was feeling affectionate then she had priority. And that did happen pretty often. I'm not sure how, but we avoided jealousy. I think that it was because when we were together we were completely focused on each other. There was nothing outside my bed. Or our arms really. We became each other's world.

I had duties today and so did she. She was the premier magus in our family and as such she often travelled to study, investigate, and advise father on occult matters. He was no slouch at battle sorcery but his knowledge paled before hers. Her mind was, truthfully, what I had fallen in love with first. I think she fell in love with my sincere appreciation of her as my equal. Most men noticed only the sway of her hips, round face, delicate features and deep green eyes. I had a hard time blaming them, being lost in them at the moment.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, biting her lip.

"This," I said, leaning into her and kissing her on her neck. She loved that. Last night I had been forceful enough to leave a few marks but this morning I was gentle and slow. She whimpered a little.

"I have to get dressed," she protested, but her heart wasn't in it. If she asked me to stop, I would. She knew it and I knew that she wouldn't ask. She wanted me again.

"Brother, please, oh...oh fuck."

My hand had begun to explore her leg, then hip; then I slowly found her sex. My fingers gently passed through her soft red down onto her nub, already swollen and much more wet than I had expected. This accounted for her distraction.

"I need you, love. I'm sure to be sent away again...and who knows how long this will be allowed between us? And you're already so wet for me," I didn't need to add that I was hard for her. She knew me well enough.

I had, in my need, mentioned our situation's one glaring negative aspect. Something that we both feared but could not change, so we never truly spoke of it. Sooner or later our father, or elder brother, or even uncle would take her for either wife or concubine. And then she would be off limits to me, forever. In theory.

Added to Merwyd's indignity was the obvious and oft spoken of plan to pair me and our youngest sister, Raisa. It would be true to say that I loved her, but it was not the right kind of love. Raisa was three years my junior and was always following me or her sisters around growing up, shy and adorable. I had not seen her in two years, when she was bundled off to train in temple service, as is traditional for a third daughter. We still stayed in touch via letter, however, and she had told me with obvious happiness she would be returning within the year. Merwyd liked her but for obvious reasons was not eager for me to marry her.

In return her gaze grew somber for a moment and I regretted what I said.

"I'm sorry. I should not have brought it up. It's just that being separated from you has been on my mind often lately. It leaves an ache here," I said, bringing my hand up to my heart, "that I find unbearable."

It may sound to you like rehearsed words or pillow talk. I did have a reputation then. I can only assure you that it was true. Merwyd believed me. She took my head in her hands gently.

"If I am ever taken from you...I promise to come back. I swear it. I don't know how but please wait for me. And don't do anything rash that would separate your lovely head from your shoulders."

She ended her words on a wry note but that was no small promise. She had taken an oath to find a way to disobey the will of men in her family. I was moved. No one had ever such things to me before.

Looking back I suppose that it was a day full of surprises.

We moved together as one, our lips meeting with intensity, her tongue darting into my mouth. As we kissed I move my hand down and slipped my finger inside of her while playing with the nub of her sex with my thumb, gently. She moaned into my mouth and suddenly had to stop for breath, resting her forehead on my chest.

I wanted to taste her that morning but we didn't have enough time. I rolled over on top of her and she parted her legs eagerly as well as adjusting her hips so I could enter her more readily. We were in alignment in all things from making love to making conversation. It was obvious to all who saw us together that we were in love. We didn't hide it.

I positioned the head of my cock at the entrance of her slick folds. She moaned and tried to push herself toward me but I drew back slightly. She pouted at me in her adorable way but I wasn't teasing. I wanted to draw this out as I was sure that I would be sent away "on training" again to some godforsaken place on the edge of the world. I needed to remember her. She kept me balanced.

I pushed forward, meeting no resistance but still amazed at how tight she was around me.

"Oh fuck. I love your quim, sister. I've never felt any better."

She whimpered in response and put her hands on my ass, urging me to fuck her. I obliged by giving her long, full strokes of my shaft. I was so familiar with her that I knew exactly how deep to go by instinct. I wasn't particularly large but she was small so I could hurt her if I wasn't careful. She loved to be filled just so and I knew how to alter the angle and force of my thrusts to hit all of her pleasurable spots.

You might complain about the nobility but we Purebloods had libidos that went unmatched so we often became quite good at fucking. It was part of the reason why even outside of our family few of us ever had any trouble finding a willing partner. Although it was never as good as fucking kin.

As I fucked her I toyed with her breast and nipple, teasing the latter relentlessly. She was very sensitive there and she was whimpering with each tweak. I continued to ravish her neck as I knew she liked. Last night she had ridden me quite hard and had worn herself out. This morning I was more than happy to do most of the work.

"Fuck. Brother I'm close. I'm so close. I'm..."

Her words devolved into moans and cries of my name and her body tightened and shuddered underneath me while her legs locked around my hips. I knew that she must have been riding out a very powerful orgasm and it drove me over the edge. I began spurting thick ropes of cum inside her, over and over. There was a surprising amount given the prior night. I knew she took the Bride's Bane in her tea, so we didn't need to worry about a baby.

I didn't leave her at first, but stayed there, inside her, meeting her eyes. It was different this time, deeper, more desperate. I knew she would be claimed soon, and I was powerless to stop it. She had the greatest breeding potential of any of my sisters, being the most proficient with magic. It sickened me that she would be treated like a mare at a stable, not just because I loved her. The idea of her being with other men bothered me, although I've never been overly jealous. You can't be in a Pureblood family. The idea of her being beyond my reach forever, on the other hand...I wasn't even comfortable with the dark thoughts that brought out of me.

I finally pulled out of her as she gave a final moan and rolled over onto my chest. I felt moisture there and knew that she was crying. She did so after intense sessions. She said it wasn't like that with anyone else. I believed her.

A knock at the door roused us both from our reverie. Despite not being prohibited from being here, father looked down on attachments forming between unmarried offspring. He could be wrathful, although he was more likely to exercise that wrath more upon me, the child of less worth.

I felt the tingle of lesser magic being used and the door opened suddenly, the lock having given way, to reveal my mother standing there, looking as I imagine all mothers do when they find their sons laying about in bed with their sisters. A little exasperated, jealous, and aroused.

Well, maybe not all mothers. I've only had experience in a Pureblood family.

"Good morning, Aunt Syrlin," Merwyd said cheerily. They'd always gotten along. I think mother liked how the two of us meshed. Or she just found Merwyd to be the least objectionable woman to be fucking her son. Other than herself, of course.

"Good morning, niece. I see the two of you are exactly where I expected you'd be. Get dressed, son. Your brother is looking all over for you."

Ah, there was what I was expecting. To get a task from my brother. Some lonely errand, perhaps important, perhaps not. Something to get me out of the way so he could have Merwyd to himself. When I returned from one of these trips, I fully expected her to be married. I knew I was being naive and selfish, but it hurt.

Merwyd saw my expression and squeezed my shoulder before she stood up and began putting on her own clothing. I looked at her, capturing her image in case I didn't see her for a few months. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

"Love you, brother. See you soon."

She hesitated, for just a moment, and there was worry in her eyes. And then she was gone. That was the last I saw of her for five years.

* * *

Mother waited patiently for me to get cleaned up and dressed. She closed the door but didn't bother leaving. She simply stood, watching intently, as I clothed my nude form. She was at least forty, but while some men found women of middle age unattractive, I did not. She was of average height, full of figure, a complete hourglass. As some members of the older generation do when their prowess is proven, she regularly dyed her hair a glossy black, which I admit I found very appealing. Her lips were plump and her cheekbones high. Her eyes seemed blue from a distance but were truthfully more violet up close, when she was full of passion. I was fortunate to see her violet eyes rather often

"You are growing more fine with every day. You will be irresistible once you change."