A Midsummer's Saga Pt. 05

He watched her body twist, her ribcage rise and fall, her breasts sway to the rhythm; she threw back her head and her hair flew through the air, and he thrust harder, faster, in ecstasy. If only he could touch her, feel her with his hands. Her fingers were digging hard into his shoulder blade where she was anchored. She jerked her head and now her hair fell in disarray over her face.

"Gabrielle..." he moaned.

"Aerin!" she responded. Their names echoed off the walls. His abs were flexing with his thrusts in the soft shadow. She laid her hand, wet with her juices, on his stomach, feeling him, feeling his body work, driven wild by hers. He was helpless to stop her, his body her playground, completely exposed for her to do what she willed; and he leaned forward, giving himself to her, he wanted nothing more than to be her plaything. She moved her hand to his chest, over his heart, and rubbed his nipple with her little finger, feeling it harden under her touch. She let out another giggling gasp and looked him in the eyes.

They were so blue, even in this fire light. He was leaning down on his chains, as if reaching out to her. Something changed -- she didn't get the urge to look away now; no, the opposite, his eyes drew her in, pinned hers down. She laid her hand on his cheek and traced his eyebrow with her thumb. In response he rubbed his cheek against her hand, like a touch-starved animal, looking at her, awed and pleading. He saw something new in her eyes, sincere and unguarded, pupils growing larger in her irises like some shape rising from the depths to the surface of the sea.

She whispered his name again, then rose up and kissed him. Her lips were soft between his, and he put his whole awareness into feeling that mouth that curved in that mocking smile, exploring her with his tongue, her teeth, her inner lip, the tongue of her own. And for this moment, they were just two happy humans sharing themselves, and all the world around them and all that's in it was nothing; the stone ceiling above was nothing; Behem nothing; and they themselves were nothing, but for their shared joy.

She broke off the kiss, a thin thread of mixed spit still connecting their lips, and looked again into his eyes, and lost herself. Her legs squeezed him and the bars convulsively, and she called out to him as a huge heavy wave of pleasure rolled over her body, leaving only calm bliss behind. He saw her lose control over her face, over all her muscles. He felt her pussy contract around him, sucking him, petting him, teasing him. He felt his own abdomen light up, ecstasy expanding, muscles shaking, pleasure forcing air out of his lungs. With a long broken moan he came, pumping her full of his seed, feeling her with absolute intensity -- and then stood still, breathing hard.

Little by little, moment by moment, the outside world made its unwelcome return. He felt iron on his wrists, and she under her thighs; various muscles complained about the heavy loads they had been forced to carry. She looked at her toes, suspended in mid-air. A survival instinct kicked in. They had been pretty loud, definitely audible from the chapel garden. She listened for a moment, but there were no signs of anyone. She started to disentangle herself from the bars and from Aerin. When her feet touched the ground, his cock slid out of her and slapped wet and heavy against his leg. His cum trickled down her thigh. Her hand was still on his shoulder. They looked at each other. They felt that someone should say something, but it now occurred to them that they had not exchanged a single world throughout the whole thing, besides each calling out the other's name. The present situation, therefore, was somewhat delicate and awkward.

"Okay," she said, taking her hands off him. "Hold on a second, I'll just dress up and unchain you."

"Okay. I promise I won't go anywhere."

She smiled at him, her usual smile, just a slight derisive pull of the corners of her mouth. But it seemed so different now. For the first time, he felt like he was in on her joke.

She looked for a moment for something to wipe herself with, and settled for the hem of her dress for a lack of other options. He watched with regret as she covered her flushed skin with cloth, carelessly, hands trembling. When she was done she walked out of the cell and locked the door, double-checking it.

As she turned up behind him and raised the key up to unlock the fetters, she hesitated. Her caution returned. She unlocked his fetters very carefully, again ready to lunge back at any moment, as if she was taking a leash off a caged tiger. Yet again nothing happened, though; he stood calm until she undid both locks, and when she whisked the chain away and took a quick step back, he just turned around, rubbing his wrists.

She leaned back against the wall, looking at his naked body, and finally sighed with satisfaction.

"Enjoyed yourself, boy?"

He bit his lip, and swept the whole dungeon with his gaze. "Maybe this place isn't all that bad."

"Yeah," she laughed. Her whole body was still tingling with pleasure, her pussy still basking in the fantastic physicality, tangibility of his cock. Let him out, something urged. The way's free, Dodo's out drunk, it's a moonless night, just let him run!

But three thoughts rose up in opposition. Number one, if Aerin escaped tonight, they'd surely kill Dodo for this -- anything to save their face and placate Titulus. Dodo might be pretty simple, and considerably less pretty than Aerin, but this was not a life for life that she was willing to just let happen. Number two, Aerin had no chance on foot. As soon as they realize he's gone, they'll go for him with the dogs and the horses. He'd need at least a horse of his own to have any chance, and there was no way to get one from the stables and lead it through the gate unnoticed. Number three, there were very few people in the castle now, and almost all of them were gathered in groups. It really wouldn't be hard to guess that it was her that let him out. And that would be consorting with an enemy at wartime, and that would be treason. The punishment would be severe. So, Gabrielle, he may have a pretty face and he may be a good lay, and you may feel bad for him, but how much would you really be willing to sacrifice for his life?

Her smile slackened and she looked up the stairway. "I have to go," she said. She took the torch and walked to the passage.

"Hey, wait a moment!"

She stopped on the first step. He ran along her, right to the corner of his cell.

"Will I see you again?" he asked.

She hesitated for a moment before she spoke.

"Aerin, if I see the slightest chance, you will see me, you will feel me, and you will taste me."

And with that goodbye, she ran up the stairs.

Dodo was still snoring in the same position when she lightly passed him. There was nobody outside when she left the tower. The few lights in the windows that had been lit when she went in continued on, as if nothing had happened. The air was mild and fresh, the sky full of stars. She took a few unsteady steps on the grass, head upwards. The stars glimmered, here as in the capital, here as in Kontaria. There was wind in the east, and it swelled for a moment, bringing new and fresh air to Behem. And there and then Gabrielle realized what she wanted to do.

She will not let them harm Aerin. He does not deserve to die. Not because of this stupid bullshit war. Tonight is not yet the night, but somehow, anyhow, she will find a way to get him out of here.

Yeah! You hear that, Paula? You hear that, Clement? Pelagius? Vulmar, Adhemar and Valdemar? Titulus? I declare my war on you and this entire piece of shit castle. He will not die. I've already outwitted you, gave him food, gave him comfort when you were trying to break him. Now I fucked him, here, under your roof, this fortress of chastity, of prudish furious harshness that you fuckwits keep calling moral values! I'll come up with a plan and make him slip right out of your grubby hammy hands. You think there's stopping me? I'm Gabrielle of Lhamedos, granddaughter of Theodoric the Red, who the fuck do you think you are?!

Actually, I'm a great-great-granddaughter, and there's this family rumour that grandma was born out of an illicit affair, so...

Shut the fuck up, brain. This is no time for details.

She walked on, with a dancing step, aimlessly, her mind exhilarated, her body still in afterglow, magnetized, charged with the boy. Not really caring how, she found herself on the walls, and then up the turret with the view over the town.

It was very well visible, a lake of lights on the dark plain. She looked on, and at length bursts of other, colourful light started appearing above it. They were lighting the fireworks.

She turned around and then lied down with her back on the battlements, her neck arched and head upside down, her hair and arms dropping down along the wall. What a beautiful night, she thought, as more and more fireworks exploded wrong way up under the upturned town. She grinned to herself, to the lights, and to the stars. She hoped that everyone else was having a great Midsummer, too.

*

She took the torch and left him in the dark, but it was all for the better -- if he could barely see a thing, it was easier for him to re-watch in his mind all that he had seen, every detail of her.

He threw himself on his bedding, grabbed his head in his hands, and just grinned at the ceiling. His cock, still wet from her pussy, felt cool out in the air. He felt the spots on his shoulder blade where her nails had dug in. Across his abs and his chest his skin still tingled with pleasure where her warm soft hand had been exploring.

Gabrielle. He didn't have to pretend before himself anymore that he hadn't fallen for her, beyond all reason. And she said she'd try to return! He wasn't sure if the anticipation would make his stay in the dungeon more or less bearable.

Oh yes, the dungeon. It was all sorts of absurd now, this pit where he experienced the lowest lows and the highest highs. Was he going to die here or not? Turns out Gabrielle was never sent here by his captors. Was she then telling the truth when she said they'd let him go? Would she even know?

He didn't know. The girl was still full of mysteries, no less now that he'd been inside of her.

*

Behem is only quiet when its people are awake, Gabrielle noted. At night, when they go to bed, you can barely hear yourself think for all the cicadas; early in the morning, before they get up, it's the hundreds of small birds chirping away in the pale pink light.

Though she only had a couple hours of sleep, Gabrielle felt more refreshed than she had in months. The muscles of her legs and back were aching, the ones she had forced to support her whole body as Aerin was thrusting inside her. This pain, associated with that pleasure, made her smile wide.

When the first rays of the sun fell through her chamber window she woke right up, with an idea ready in her head. Wasting not a minute she dressed herself up -- in a fresh dress, though the idea of wearing the triumphantly cum-stained one in front of Paula was enticing, if gross -- and ran down. Her target was the ox carts by the larder.

There technically was a guard -- an old soldier who went over to the gatehouse to hang out with the guards there.

There were six carts -- heavy, lumbering affairs on solid wheels, covered with thick cloth. Gabrielle made sure there was nobody around, lifted the flap at the back of one, and looked inside. It was stocked with large jute sacks which upon some poking revealed themselves to contain either grain, beans, or root vegetables. She climbed into the cart. The sacks were mostly heaped on top of each other, in a way to provide a good balance to the cart, but not too neatly. Perfect.

She re-emerged to the courtyard and went to the dungeon tower. The entry door was now closed shut. She peeked through the window of the guard room. Dodo must have woken up at some point, because he moved himself to his proper post, a bedding that was positioned across the door that lead down to the stairway, in such a way that his body blocked the passage.

She rounded the corner of the tower and entered the chapel garden. She found the dungeon windows at the ground level. She crouched to the closer one. The bars were installed near the inner side of the thick wall, so that she had to crouch into the vaulted niche, large enough to sit in, in order to reach them and take a look inside.

He was asleep, lying on his back with every limb thrown in a different direction and one forearm drawn over his eyes. She lied down on her stomach, rested her chin on her hands and watched him for a while, one leg swinging up and down from the knee. What a lazy boy, sleeping through a fine morning like this. She considered calling out to him, but the window was so well isolated from the outer courtyard by the yews and junipers growing by the tower's walls that there was no hurry -- she was sure she could easily talk to him unnoticed even in the afternoon.

Besides, let him stew a bit going restless with anticipation for her. You don't call in on a guy right the next morning, especially not when you're a princess.

Around noon Paula returned, having left the town as soon as it was possible. Gabrielle was for once happy to luncheon with her. Having secretly triumphed over her horrid ladyship in the most outrageous way possible, she felt invincible, impervious to her. She watched her silently and with a tiny lopsided smile as she talked with Clement and Pelagius.

"Were the celebrations a success, my lady?" the priest asked.

"Oh, you know those townspeople. It was just an excuse to get drunk and dance. In my days, people knew that it was foremost a day to worship the gods."

"Very true, very true."

"The true meaning of Midsummer is lost. True zeal replaced with fireworks. Fireworks! These damned things gave me a migraine again. I insisted that they stop the show halfway through. I think everyone was too drunk to notice anyway!"

Pelagius was unsure whether to laugh or sympathize, so he emitted a general-purpose stifled sigh that could be interpreted as both. Gabrielle had no dilemma here -- she just barely contained her laughter. This was Paula in a nutshell, attempting to stomp out the bit of fun that people have been looking forward to for months because the very idea of fun gave her a headache.

A soldier meekly entered the room and whispered something to Clement. The majordomo excused himself and scuttled away from the table, his key ring jingling with each step. Paula turned to Gabrielle.

"So, young lady," she said with a honeyed voice, "did you enjoy your Midsummer?"

Gabrielle looked right into those tiny glittering eyes, and assumed an expression of utmost innocence. "Yes, my lady. Father Pelagius celebrated a very wonderful ceremony here at the chapel. Even afterwards I couldn't sleep, seized by fervour as I was. I felt touched by the gods, as if they were inside me, and I called out their names into the night."

Paula's eyes narrowed, which was an achievement considering how small they were in the first place. She was not sure what game this was, but she was sure she didn't like it. "Oh really," she said with rising pitch, "and what gods were that?"

Gabrielle swirled her mug of water. "Oh, there are various gods of my idolatry. Gautier, of the unjustly suffering. Iolaus, the young warrior. Genesmo, of passion." She put down her mug with a small thud and very slightly leaned towards Paula. "Hermotimus, of getting even." She smiled vacantly.

Paula threw away the napkin she was using and was about to reply when Clement hastily re-entered the room.

"My lady, a messenger at the gatehouse announced that more wounded are coming from Kontaria. The news aren't too good, I'm afraid."

Gabrielle, having no option to jump up, had to settle for blinking with joy. Yeah, horse boys! Show that neckless piece of shit what's what! Paula, on the other hand, slammed her open hand on the table.

"What's happened now?" she demanded.

What happened in Kontaria was as follows: Titulus decided to take again the same risk that had brought him defeat before, and separate his cavalry from his infantry to bait the Kontarians into attacking. This they did, except this time Titulus executed all his manoeuvres perfectly, and rammed right into their flank as they were charging, tearing into them, standards a-waving and armour a-clanging. But the whole of the Kontarian warband was like a great dragonfly, moving as one, instantly taking flight when a danger appears; they fell back before Titulus, and after the first skirmish his spirited charge was only hitting air, the enemy disappearing in the woods. Many Harmeni soldiers, made eager with finally seeing the Kontarians and already tasting victory, followed them. This was a fatal mistake. The Kontarians' rapid retreat was in no way disorderly; and now small groups were circling back and harassing, isolating, and destroying their pursuers. In the end of the day, having taken great risks and performed astonishing feats of battlefield organization, Titulus suffered more losses than he had inflicted. As night fell, his army regrouped diminished, and the Kontarians remained beyond his reach still, ever present but untouchable, a laughter in the dark.

This was the story that the messenger told to Clement, and Clement to Paula. The Lady of Behem listened to it with growing fury, and at the end of it launched a diatribe against forest barbarians, undeserving weak-willed soldiers, and the upcoming wrath of the gods. Pelagius and Clement immediately ventured to calm her down. After some ten minutes, her anger abated to regular levels.

"I'm going to have to take my headache medicine... imagine what a shame it would be to us if we lost this war!"

On the spur of the moment, Gabrielle decided that this, the moment of calm after the storm, was the perfect time to test the waters concerning Aerin, and maybe plant an idea in Paula's head.

"It wouldn't be that bad for Behem, would it, my lady? You'd just re-open the trade routes, set your prisoner free, and go on exactly as before?"

"It's a matter of respect, girl! They will think us weak! Don't you see that?!"

And with that final shrill eruption, she rose from the table and retired to her chambers. Alright then, Gabrielle thought, there's definitely no hope that the lady-bitch of the castle will spare him his life, that monstrosity. The suggestion was at least worth a try though. Not much of a risk, too -- all the people in the room were too agitated to take note that she very specifically mentioned Aerin.

Later, looking back on that day, Gabrielle had to admit that this assumption was the first of her very serious mistakes. After all the time she had spent in Behem, she should have been aware that Clement took note of absolutely everything.