Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 03

The only one he couldn't get a good read on was the prince himself. After the first hour or so of conversation, shared stories and laughter, Alaric said less and less. His laughter did not come easily, and soon it hardly came at all. Geoffrey hardly laughed, either, but that was because he had his head down on the table and occasionally snored, much to the amusement of the other Companions.

The ladies, at least, seemed readily amused by Davos, and remained engaged in discussion throughout the night.

"No, I'm serious," Davos said, laughing despite his words. He held his hands up to help him describe an unusual sight. "The hobgoblins on these islands wear these huge wooden masks, all curved at the front and painted and decorated. Big red monster eyes, white teeth, all of it exaggerated and frightening as hell if you're drunk enough."

"I'm intrigued by this," said Terrwyn. She and Majella had at least shown the sense not to get into the undeclared rum contest with the men, opting instead to stick with ale. "These hobgoblins don't think they're ugly enough? Do you think that's it?"

"I don't know," Davos shrugged. "We didn't stick around to ask them."

"What's this, then?" grumbled Baldwin. "You ran from them?"

"Well, more or less," said the sailor. "In a way. Of a fashion. Yes." He let out a little burp, excused himself and added, "We were all besotted at the time. No one was in any shape for a fight. And to be fair, it is their island. If they want to live there and not bother anyone or raid any settlements, what's the quarrel?"

"The quarrel is that they're hobgoblins!" put in Gareth.

"He has you there," conceded Majella.

"I've never run from a hobgoblin in my life," declared Romis.

"Oh, I've never run from a hobgoblin, either," Davos corrected, "but I'll run from a dozen hobgoblins. Or scramble away quickly and fall down a lot, which admittedly is a more honest telling of what we did."

"Well..." Baldwin considered.

"No," said Gareth. "They're hobgoblins. They should be wiped out." He fumed a bit, his alcohol-soaked mind searching for words. "I cannot call you a coward after the battle in the Plaza, but this island is a stain on your honor!"

Davos blinked and looked around the table. Majella rolled her eyes. Terrwyn frowned. Baldwin and Romis seemed to grin a bit. Alaric just watched.

"You're saying we should go get them? I mean, I can draw a map."

"Excellent!" Gareth nodded. "They must be ended!"

Davos mirrored the big northerner's nod. He reached for a plate of food scraps, overturned the emptied potato skins and flattened them with the palm of his hand. He then used a knife to carve out a small curve at the end of one potato. "Here's the coast of Loewen," Davos explained, and then he put a small dot into the far end of the other half of the potato skin. "There's the island." Then he slammed his elbow on the table with his hand offered up for a warrior-like grasp. "Let's get 'em, Gareth. You and I."

Gareth looked at him with wide eyes as the moment processed. The ladies laughed first, but eventually Gareth had to admit the humor in the offer, too.

"The hour grows late," said Alaric as the laughter subsided. "We should collect our fallen brother and take our leave. I had meant to talk with you about the royal court and put you at ease before finding yourself in audience, Davos, but it seems the telling of stories took precedent."

Even with the buzz in his brain, Davos could detect the veiled reproach. "Oh, I'm sorry," he blinked.

"No matter," the prince grunted as he rose. "Just lean more toward listening than talking and I'm sure you'll be fine. Companions, we should go. Gareth, Romis... pick up Geoffrey there. Innkeeper! We're leaving. The palace will take care of the bill."

Davos stayed in his seat as the others all rose to go. He thought the matter of the bill seemed strange. If the palace stewards were anything like the pursers on ships, it could be weeks before the innkeeper was paid. This had been a lot of quality food and drink, to say nothing of the dutiful service by more people than just Juliana... "It might do to at least leave some sort of tip?" he suggested, and then looked to his own coinpurse.

Terrwyn stopped. "Aye. Alaric, he's got a point."

The prince stopped, stiffened and cast an annoyed glance over his shoulder. "Then take care of it," he said and then continued on his way out.

"I've at least thirty gold on me," Davos frowned thoughtfully, "but I'm not so sure if that's enough? This rum and all the ale and the venison..."

"Gods, no, that's five times what I'd leave for a tip, even for all this," said Majella.

"Yes, but the food..." Davos mumbled. He glanced at the door. Juliana and her husband gave the prince a gushingly polite farewell, for which Davos couldn't blame them in the slightest. It was good for business.

The pinch on Juliana's ass that Baldwin was plainly not welcomed, but she held her tongue. Whatever her understanding with her husband, it clearly didn't stretch to include that man. Davos frowned darkly.

"Listen, don't trouble yourself," Majella told him. "This was in your honor, you should be the last to pay."

"Was it?" he asked. Then he made an apologetic face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say or imply..." he shook his head. "It's not just the drink. I'm a little weary."

Terrwyn smiled. She plunked down a few gold coins on the table. "This is merchants' business. It will be handled. Good night, Davos of Murried. I enjoyed this, and I hope to see you again soon." She offered him a friendly smile that seemed much more genuine than the others he'd seen tonight.

"Ladies," called a familiar voice. They saw the prince at the door. Though the word was polite, the tone stretched the value of such manners. "Are you coming?"

"Aye," said Majella. She gave Terrwyn a nudge. "We'll see you around, Davos," she winked. As the dark-haired woman and her taller comrade walked to the door, now shut again with the prince's exit, she stole a look back across the common room. She had just enough time to see Davos empty his little coinpurse out onto the table. "Aw," she murmured.

Then she was outside in the cool evening air. Across the street, the prince stood with the other Companions. They even had Geoffrey upright again, though listing from side to side. In truth, Majella's head was fairly clear, as was Terrwyn's. They preferred to keep their wits about them, even when among their fighting comrades. It just made sense.

"I don't trust him," declared Alaric in a low voice when the whole group was finally together.

"What's not to trust?" asked Terrwyn.

"That man is no mere sailor. Showing up when he did, running with more luck than the gods would ever invest in one man and now this? Smooth talk and drinking like a dwarf? Veiled insults and tall tales? I don't like it."

"I only saw glimpses of him in the fight," nodded Gareth, "but now that I've a sense of him, he does not quite seem... manly enough to have done all he did."

"Oh, shut up, Gareth," said Terrwyn, "or I'll stuff your 'manly' issues down your throat myself. And you know I will."

"And there!" Alaric snapped his fingers and pointed to the two of them. "He already has us at odds with one another!"

"This is called paranoia, Alaric," remarked Terrwyn.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. We should watch him closely."

Majella's lips tightened. She'd deliberately kept her mouth shut, wanting to see where the prince would take this without any guidance. Now she knew. "And by 'we' you mean me, don't you?"

"Vorhast is dead and buried," said Alaric, "otherwise I would have him use his magic. You are the most skilled at stalking and watching. You could perhaps even get into his room and search his things."

"Didn't he say Edward had to buy him all new things?"

Alaric waved a dismissive hand. "I would trust Edward's word on that, but not this stranger's. Majella, are you with me?"

She tried not to roll her eyes. "I'll stick around and keep an eye on him," she said.

"Excellent. Let us know what you discover. Come, Companions," he beckoned the rest, "it's a walk to the palace, and I at least need to sleep this off."

"Yes, but I'm not tired, not at all," muttered Majella. She gave Terrwyn a reassuring wave before she walked away. They'd all pushed themselves harder than this while adventuring in the wilderness. Majella could handle a sleepless night without much trouble. Still, she'd remember the inconvenience.

"Majella!" hissed Terrwyn.

"What?"

The warrior threw her a wink. "The Companions, not The Friends."

Majella threw back a gesture that was at once rude and friendly before she slipped into the shadows.

* * *

He didn't return to his room right away. Davos remained in the common room for over an hour, wanting to shake off a little of his buzz with food, water and time before he went to bed. He spoke with Juliana and her husband, Thaddeus, about the other times the Companions had been in and the time it took for the palace to clear a large bill. As he suspected, the coins he'd left on the table would help keep their funds balanced. Thaddeus assured him that once the palace paid the bill, he would in turn be glad to reimburse their thoughtful guest.

Juliana's open appreciation and mild affection for Davos did not extend to flirting that night. He found no tension at all between husband and wife. They seemed nicely matched. Either the man simply had no clue at all, which seemed a touch unlikely given that his wife never came to bed the night before, or they truly did have a solid "understanding" between them. Davos leaned toward the latter.

He also leaned toward falling over, and as such excused him once he felt it unlikely that he would wake up with an awful hangover.

Shuffling into his room, Davos found one lamp already burning, courtesy of the inn's other staff. He found a full washbasin on the table, washcloths and towels. Such service still felt alien. Then again, he'd been through many strange new experiences in the past few days.

Thoughts of goddesses and blessings had been chased away by the stress and worry conjured up by the dinner. Had he insulted the prince somehow? Was it his imagination, or did many of the Companions spend more time feeling him out for weak points rather than simply being friendly? Blearily, Davos used the lantern to light a few more candles. Later, he'd wonder why he did that when he intended to clean up and go straight to bed, but men did sillier things after so much drink.

Davos pulled off his shirt, put one of the washcloths through the basin and began to wipe his chest down. He looked in the mirror, noticed that his face was still as smooth as if he'd just shaved and didn't even think twice about why, and then kicked off his shoes and set to undoing his pants.

He never gave a second thought to the open shutters of his window.

* * *

Across the street on the next rooftop over, Majella's breath grew heavy. Gods, she thought, that body. Oh, the pants. Please, don't turn away too soon, let me see what you've... oh my.

He'd taken long enough in getting up there. Majella could have been in and out of his room via the window before he'd come back, but she couldn't have known that. Now she wished she'd hidden herself in his closet or something to allow for a much closer look at all that glory. If he was that hung while relaxed and about to go to bed...

Majella's attraction to him had built through the night. He was friendly, humble, able to hold up a lively conversation and generous to others. At no point did he dismiss her words or Terrwyn's; even the Companions, who respected their abilities, would still sometimes let their chauvinism show.

This man fought bravely, ran across a dragon's spine, and paid for a dinner he hadn't organized when he thought the hosts would be stiffed. And he was gorgeous.

She saw nothing to be learned from watching him sleep.

Her eyes swept the street, looking again at the path she had already picked out. From this rooftop to the next, along the awning of that fruit seller's shop and then a quick lash of her whip to latch onto the railing of the building across the street, and then a simple couple of jumps from building to building. She'd be atop the inn before he could blow out all those silly candles.

She didn't worry about falling. Nor did she worry about being caught. She could always challenge the other Companions to do better if they had a problem with the latter.

* * *

He only noticed his silliness with the extra candles when he was ready to climb into the bed. Davos went from one side of the room to the next to blow them out, finishing with the lantern. His window got a fair amount of light from the full moon that seemed almost directly in line with his room. With the candles and lantern only just now snuffed out, though, it would be a few minutes before his vision adjusted. By then, he figured, he'd be fast asleep.

The shadow that moved across the faint pool of moonlight on his floor caused him to look out the window, but he saw nothing there. He took it for an owl or some other large bird, shrugged and pulled the blankets back to lie down.

Something thumped lightly on the roof. "Raccoons," he muttered, and stretched out on the bed. The washcloths had cooled him off considerably, but the room was warm enough that he didn't really want the blankets just yet.

Davos considered opening the window a touch. He looked up and saw some brief flash of something dark—probably another bird, he figured—but the window, it turned out, seemed already open a touch. He put the thought aside, took a couple of slow, deep breaths, and then let out a yawn.

Then he heard the thump.

The figure looming over his bed wore black leather armor, a cowl and a mask that covered the lower half of her face. He saw weapons—sheathed, but present. He suspected it might be a woman, but in the one blink-of-an-eye look he had, he didn't give it much thought. That armor was meant to offer actual protection, not show off a woman's skin.

He gave none of that any real analysis. He just acted with the only weapon he had. Davos swung his pillow up in a broad arc fast enough to surprise the intruder and hard enough to that she staggered to one side, even having gotten an arm up in time to protect her head.

Davos kicked low, his foot connecting with her armored thigh to shove her back. He made it to his feet just in time for her to drop low and sweep out one leg, tripping him and sending him sprawling onto his back. She had his wrist in a flash, twisting it around his back and rolling him over onto his stomach.

He could yell for help, but at best that would bring Thaddeus, Juliana or some other poor innocent running into danger. Davos flailed backward with his other arm, elbowing his attacker's hip to no avail and then reaching back for anything to grab. If he could snatch one of those daggers from her belt, he'd at least have something.

His fingers caught and unclasped a buckle, which seemed to catch on some sort of string underneath the protective leather and pull that loose, too. That wasn't what he needed. The results were helpful, though; his attacker was momentarily distracted, and then he had the chance to twist and gain enough leverage to tear out of her hold.

He spun around and heard her grunt something dismissive, apparently giving up on whatever fix she'd need to make for her armor, and then he was on her. The pair struggled on the floor, grabbing at one another's hands and wrists and turning this way and that. He thought her awfully strong for a woman her size, but then, she had probably climbed in through the window and here she was in armor and sporting blades. None of that spoke to weakness.

She was quick and clearly used to fighting. She knew the tricks. Why she didn't pull one of those blades on him, he didn't know, but he used his slightly greater size to his advantage for all that it was worth. In one quick move, he wrenched her onto her back, pinning her wrists to the floor with his hands.

He didn't intend to get between her legs. He absolutely hadn't realized how aroused his sex had become. The first he knew of it came when his cock slipped over the flesh right where that bit of armor had come undone—and came in contact with a small patch of soft hair.

Davos gasped, partly in surprise and partly in genuine guilt, but his opponent just inhaled sharply and eased off on the struggle to free her arms. He caught the sparkle of her eyes in the moonlight.

"Do it," she hissed.

His hips gyrated enough for him to explore, just a little, without conscious thought on his part. Her demand caused his basest instincts to overpower his sense of propriety. His subconscious processed her words of consent before his conscious mind did.

Shocked and thoroughly aroused, Davos stared into the woman's bright, moonlit eyes as he pushed into her.

"Ooohhh, yes," she moaned as he penetrated her wet flesh. The intruder's eyes rolled back and then her head tilted in the same direction as her hips pushed back to welcome more of him inside her. Davos let go of one of her wrists and tugged down the black mask covering her mouth and nose to reveal quivering lips and an entirely familiar face.

"Majella?" he blinked. His body followed its urges.

The woman underneath him smiled and writhed with approval. "Wow, there's a lot of you."

"What are you doing here?"

"Mmh. Getting fucked," she purred.

"But I—you—" urges got the better of him. Davos planted a hungry kiss on those lips, which she welcomed gladly. Most of her armor was uncomfortable against his bare body and the handle of one of her blades jabbed against his side, but all he really knew was the tongue and lips that melded with his and the tight, silky bliss of her pussy.

"You could've knocked," he said finally.

"Could've. Isn't this more fun? Unh. Better if... you earn it."

She had a point there. He was fiercely turned on, and so was she. "You let me hear you, didn't you?"

Her heavy breath testified to her pleasure. She pulled her thighs up and further apart to wrap her knees and calves around his waist. "Don't tell anyone?" she asked. Her eyes flared with wanton lust to match her grin. "And don't you dare stop fucking me."

He would've laughed, but the carnal sensations that drove his judgment also left him less than fully in control of his own breath. He could move his hands, though, and soon he set to finding the other buckles and drawstrings of her armor. Majella gave him plenty of help with that.

Davos rutted on the floor with his increasingly naked partner. Her lithe figure and small, smooth breasts increased his passion. Vulnerability seemed to do the same for her. By the time she was down to just jewelry and tall leather boots, the pair were less concerned with her attire and more concerned with lust and satisfaction.

"So good," Majella breathed. "Usually I need real foreplay, but this is... so good!"

"I'm glad," Davos smiled against her neck before kissing it. Majella whimpered and laughed happily before the pace of his penetration reduced her to heavy breaths in tandem with his every thrust.

They continued on. Davos's fatigue and rum-induced buzz vanished in the face of this great pleasure. He remembered Ariella's words about accepting the joys that came to him, and how he'd have to experience the gifts of the goddess before he'd be able to truly accept the reality of them. Now he knew.

Juliana had been warm and gentle. Ariella offered sensuality and erotic skill. With Majella, Davos found delight and enthusiasm as she laughed and squealed through their raw, needful fucking.

Davos groped, kissed and thrust at her as she gave back in light scratches and bites, but soon all she could do was lie back and enjoy him. Her first orgasm caused her to tremble violently and then writhe underneath him in a languid stretch. Davos kept fucking her, both for his own selfish pleasure and because he wanted her to have more. He was ready to take her through the night.