Athaniel's Libation Ch. 02

A few times I caught the princess Innifer glancing my way. But admittedly, that might be because I was looking her way as well. Because I struggled to suppress this twisted fascination.

I told myself that it was only natural. That it had been a long few days without relief. And that the sight of a woman, any woman, would tickle some primal part of me that cared little for loyalty or heritage. All the while, my skin felt prickly with the cloying heat and no amount of readjusting of my collar, or my breeches, seemed to offer even the slightest comfort.

It came as a relief when Forna finally let me know it had been long enough and I could retire without offending my hosts. He looked at me with raised eyebrows when I nodded and immediately pushed my chair back. Following suit he rose from his seat with me. As we slipped between the rows of people towards the exit, my eyes fell again on the younger princess. I saw her exchange looks with someone in the shadows behind the pillars. She gave them a nod. What it meant, I did not know. Then she turned back, watching me follow Forna out of the hall.

We left a different way from which we had come, entering instead, into a corridor that led away from the hall. When the door closed behind us and the clamor of voices receded, I let out a sigh.

Forna gave me a look of sympathy. "They are a loud bunch. Must be quite a shock."

I snorted, too quick to mask my bitterness with politeness. Well, he seemed to be a man that appreciated honesty.

As we walked, Forna informed me my belongings had been brought to my chambers. He'd come call on me again in the morning, to show me around the keep. For now, I was free to enjoy some well-deserved rest.

I nodded along, only half listening as we walked. Overwhelmed by my urge to be alone, every step seemed to be one too many. I craved time to think, to be quiet and somehow wrap my head around this new situation I found myself in. How often would I need to suffer through an evening at the king's hearth? Because this one had come near enough to ending my sanity. But what else could I do? Should I just hide away in my quarters, slowly wasting away? Suddenly, the humans' mortality seemed like a blessing. Who could bear to live more than a few decades in this kind of squalor?

And there was another craving of course. One I would be glad to relieve, even if my own ministrations would pale compared to the wealth I had lived in all these centuries. A nervous tingle ran up between my shoulder blades. My consorts, I would definitely make sure to fantasize about my consorts.

"I'll see you in the morning then, Lord Athaniel." Forna stopped outside a door after he had led me up several twisty stairs and through several dimly lit corridors. Already, I had lost my bearing entirely, adding to the feeling of being lost, outside of time.

He looked at me with some compassion. "I hope your first evening with us was not all terrible."

I grimaced without meaning to and resigned, he nodded like he understood. "It can't be easy."

Grateful for the small kindness, I inclined my head. "Thank you, Forna."

He cast me a last rueful glance and turned on his heels to return where we'd come from. After I watched him disappear around a corner, I pushed open the door to what would be my home here, in this faraway world.

As I stepped through the door, a stone, arched ceiling rose above me, illuminated by flickering torchlight from sconces on the pillars that lined the room. Between the pillars, tapestries covered the brick walls. It made the space feel warm despite the cold stone that made up the walls and ceiling. The air felt humid, almost damp, but not musty. A single window in the far wall showed darkness outside. Close to the window, a large bed with high, carved wooden posts in all corners stood against the wall. It was piled so high in blankets and pillows that it was hard to see where I would fit. The opulent luxury seemed at odds with the martial nature of these people. For a moment I wondered if this was, somehow, another slight.

Several chairs and a wider, padded seat stood in a semicircle around a fireplace, in which a small fire crackled. Above it, I noticed, Zanael had been hung horizontally on two pegs, in a decorative display that reminded me of the animal heads in the hall. I lifted her gently off the hook and perched her against the wall instead. Tomorrow, I promised myself, I would find a place to resume my practice with her.

I wondered how these people washed. Or... if. It certainly hadn't always seemed so. After days in the saddle, I felt grimy. The evening in the stuffy hall had not helped either. Nor had stealing glances at the princess' miraculous display. I had sweated myself into a clammy mess and the seeping of my cock had only added to the dampness in my breeches.

I wasn't sure if I should wash first, if I could find a way to do. Or if I should just sit back and take care of myself now that I was finally on my own. I snorted at myself. Like a pubescent youngster, I thought harshly.

No. Even if I must do so on my own, I could still treat it with some reverence and scrub the days' worth of travel off my skin first. My budding erection would have to wait.

So, starting to unbutton my irisse, I cast about the room for something, anything, to wash myself with. Surely these humans washed? Or maybe there was a place, somewhere in the keep, for bathing, like we had the moon pools? My hands dropped away from the lacing as I cursed myself for not asking Forna.

I spotted an arched doorway. There seemed to be another room beyond. But before I could explore, I heard a knocking on the door behind me. I turned around, half undressed, to go see who was there. But the door opened before I could move. Behind it stood three women. Two in the telltale brown dresses that I had seen on the servants and one wearing something equally simple, but in a deep blue hue. The clearly more expensive fabric had a shimmer to it and hugged her form. Enough to suggest a world of curves underneath. Inwardly, I groaned.

They were all studying at me. Two with a rather stricken expression, their eyes flicking back and forth between me and the wall behind me. The third, the one in blue, looked at me with her chin up high and a slight smile dancing across her face. Her eyes were painted dark, making them look big and glittery as she fixed them on me. "My lord, we are here to attend to your bath."

Attend my bath? My mind skidded to a halt. Were they sent here to...? In all truth, I did not know how far the servitude of these serving women extended. Surely they were not obliged to provide sexual services along with the cooking and carrying food. Not even the humans would stoop as low as to degrade women like that, would they?

"My lord?" The woman said, questioningly.

I shook my head. "Forgive me, but I don't understand what that means."

I wanted them to leave. Especially the one in blue, with her smoky eyes that seemed to say more, way more, than the words from her mouth. Although... her mouth. Its plumpness was apparent even from where I stood. Probably it would be best if I kept it to that distance.

And if I stopped staring at her.

"I don't need help to bathe," I said resolutely. "I'm not a baby."

"It is customary," her lips said. "The lady Mala wants to see to it herself that you are given a proper welcome for a guest of your stature." She nodded past me. "Your bath is waiting, freshly heated."

I looked over my shoulder to follow her gaze to the archway I had just been about to explore. A heated bath? I had never heard of such a thing. My people bathed in streams, often up in the mirror pools. Like, the last night I spent with my consorts. How did it already feel like a different time? A memory.

"No." I said, looking back at the woman in blue. "I need to be alone."

"We won't be long, lord." Her eyes had a pleading expression that seemed out of place on her face. The other two still looked away as if even laying eyes on me might turn them into a toad.

"The princess will be most displeased with us," the woman in blue continued. I found it hard to tell if she was toying with me. "And really, we can just... wash your hair. And then leave you alone. It's your choice. You are in control."

I slowly shook my head but, against my own better judgment, I took a step backwards. The three women filed into the room immediately, stepping past me and leading the way to the bath. Three? Why did I need three women to wash my hair? I followed them into the next room where a large wooden tub awaited, filled to the top. Steam rose off its surface and coiled around me, immediately making my irisse cling to my shoulders.

They took a moment to arrange folded squares of pillowy fabric around the tub, along with several stoppered bottles. From one, the woman in blue poured a white powder into the bath.

"What is that?" I asked, slightly alarmed.

She looked up at me, a smile playing across her face. "Bath salts. Scented. They help clean the skin."

A cloying, floral smell hit my nostrils.

"Did you not have anything less pungent?" I asked.

"I will remember next time, my lord," she said, then put a finger to her pursed lips while she considered the other bottles. After a moment of deliberation, she picked one. She opened it and held it near my face, raising her eyebrows questioningly. A woody smell reached my nose, something that almost smelled like home. A blanket of dried pine needles baking on the ground in the summer sun.

I nodded gratefully and she turned to sprinkle some liquid from the bottle into the steaming water. The smell in the room changed into something much more pleasing. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath through my nostrils. Many images, evoked by the smells, played out in the back of my mind. Memories of sun soaked places, half forgotten.

When I opened my eyes, I found the three women watching me, two with a slightly irritated frown on their face, and one with a bemused smirk. None of them said anything, but they were clearly waiting for me.

"What am I meant to do now?" I asked.

She held out her hands, gesturing at my attire. "Why disrobe, lord. Unless you want to bathe with your clothes on?" The smirk on her face twitched, but she kept it under control. She was enjoying this. Did she think I was shy? Did this human think she could play with me?

I faced her, and without a word started untying my irisse. I pulled it up over my head, revealing my torso. Her eyes never left mine. But the indrawn breaths from the side told me the other servants were watching. I wasn't fat and bulky like the hairy ghouls they were used to seeing. I was tight skin over muscle. My body had been pared down to the absolute essentials by centuries of training. And fucking.

Next, I untied the soft fabric of my waistband and let my loose breeches fall to the ground. A small high-pitched squeal came from the side followed by a subdued, "apologies m'lord!" from one of the servants.

I stood unmoving, eyes locked with the woman in blue. Her smirk slowly faded and her lips parted, compelling me to look. I took a glance and consequently swallowed heavily. I forced my eyes back to hers immediately. But she had noticed. In the periphery of my vision I saw her wet them with her tongue. Her eyes were becoming glossy, and she drew in a halted breath.

A week of pent up desire rushed into me and I could feel my cock rise in halting jolts with every pump of my heart.

"Dear lord," I heard one of the other servants gasp. But I ignored her, eyes still locked with the one in blue.

She cleared her throat and swallowed, just as I'd done. Somehow she had gotten herself into a game of wills, a battle between her pride and her curiosity. Again, she moistened her lips. The sight sent a shiver down my sides and my dick bobbed a little. Then slowly, as if by choice, her eyes started their journey down.

It was like I could feel her gaze pass over my skin. Every inch touched for the first time. And when they finally dropped all the way, the sensation sent a violent twitch up my perineum, making my cock surge into the heavy air between us. I felt the inevitable rising from deep within me and begin to drip down onto the stone. The drip-drips that clattered down onto the floor were the only thing breaking the pregnant silence.

I watched her look. Her eyes were wide and stayed fixated on my organ, which jutted straight out as if it was reaching toward her. I took this moment to, again, drink in the softness of her lips, and then allowed myself the expanse of bare skin that stretched between the top of her bodice and her collar bones.

When I noticed her gaze travel up to meet mine, I followed, slow enough so she would know that I too was drinking in the sight of her.

She took a deep breath and straightened her posture. "Would you like to..." She gestured towards the bath, her composure proving brittle.

In a daze, I stepped slowly over the edge of the steaming tub. The heat was like a flood of warm hands beckoning me deeper into their embrace. A long breath escaped me, and for a moment I forgot the awkwardness of my company. Closing my eyes, I relaxed back until I was floating, back down, in the steaming water.

Soon, I felt a pair of hands; I didn't know whose, release the clasp that held my braid, pull out the strands and massage a soft soapy substance into my hair.

To be attended so, was an entirely new experience for me. And if some voice in the back of my head passed judgment on me for enjoying such decadence, that voice was soon drowned out, washed away along with the journey's grime. Maybe over time I would grow soft here, under the careful ministrations of these servants. But when I slipped into a languid stupor under their touch, it all seemed entirely worth it.

The urgent clamoring for release that had throbbed in my veins just minutes ago now receded, making place for a languid drift. It was like I was in a dream, and the dream was here, right now. I imagined the servant in the blue dress joining me in the water. I could almost feel how our skin would slide together in the scented water. Our hands, our limbs. Our...

I knew it could be nothing more than a fantasy, a story in my head to fill the void with something to satisfy me, but it was a pleasant one for now. Of course, later I would bring to mind my consorts as I finally took care of myself.

When the hands stopped fussing over me, I opened my eyes. The two other women were packing up already, keeping their eyes anywhere but on the center of the tub. It was almost like there was nothing out of the ordinary happening here. If we all just ignored the high blush on their cheeks and the unrelenting display of my arousal that rose from the surface of the bath water.

The woman in the blue dress waited, kneeled on the ground beside me. When her two companions were ready, each clutching a basket with towels and stoppered bottles to their chest, they looked at her expectantly. She waved at the door.

"You can go now," she said.

Their eyes widened, and they looked at her in utter disbelief. She ignored them, and when they realized no explanation was forthcoming, they pattered out with quick indignant steps.

She watched them go in silence until we heard the door open, and then close with a loud click of the lock.

"Do you know why I stayed?" she asked, her voice dropping to a low, honeyed vibrato as she turned back to me. Her black hair was damp from the steam and framed her blue eyes in curly, unruly locks. There was a wildness to her, something that didn't quite fit in with the downcast eyes and the polite smiles I had seen on the other human women.

"Are you a servant?" I asked.

Puzzlement briefly flashed in her eyes. But she recovered in an instant, her mouth once again finding that knowing smirk. "I am. Of a sort."

Lifting my arms out of the water, I perched them on the edge of the tub. "What does that mean?"

She shrugged. "I have heard your kind is--" she glanced at my cock briefly. "--passionate, insatiable..."

She stopped, but I made no response.

"I wanted to tell you that there is no need for you to... be alone."

She was offering herself to me. How long had I been here, three, four hours? If that was how long it took, how many more offers could I expect before the week was out? Worse, a part of me wanted to say yes already. She was beautiful, shapely in a way that had my curiosity burning, and more importantly, she had that proud wild glint in her eyes that was so full of promise.

It was a good thing, probably, that the hot water had put me in a dreamy kind of reverie. I was more relaxed than I'd been since... I didn't know when. Otherwise, the temptation to have these questions answered may have gotten the best of me.

"Have you also heard that my kind bonds for life?" I asked her. She nodded, and I carried on. "I have... an effect on women, that changes them, that--" She let out a loud groan, interrupting me. I stopped to gawk at her in baffled silence.

"It is true then?" she asked, her eyes now glazed over, feverish. "It's not just a story. Your spunk turns women into raging whores, addicted to your cock, coming violently over and over until they pass out, while you use them over and over and over...."

The crudeness of her words hit me like an earthquake. The holiest of acts, she soiled and degraded. But instead of feeling insulted, a rush passed through me. And before I could banish the images from my mind, and wrest control of my tensing muscles, my phallus rose from the water, and with a mighty twitch, released. A jet of moullin rained down and splashed onto the surface of the water.

She gasped, and in shock, locked her eyes on the site of my betrayal. But I willed myself under control, and held back the deluge that could have easily followed after having gone so long without release.

"You..." I could see her throat move as she swallowed. "Did you just come?"

I groaned. This was wrong. I could never... "Please go," I said through clenched jaws. "I need you to leave."

"But..." Her eyes shot up to mine, pleading.

"No." I shook my head. "I can't."

She nodded, but her eyes kept begging. "I understand. I will go now."

Without moving, she waited for some kind of response, probably still hoping I would crack. But after a moment she burst into action, turning around and bending down to produce a thick, soft towel from somewhere behind the bath. It was a wonder that the side of the tub held with how hard I was grabbing it. My fingers were clenched onto it so tight my knuckles turned white. And still I could not avert my eyes as she bent over in front of me.

When she turned back she draped one of the soft towels over the edge of the tub, then straightened, rubbing her hands on the front of her dress as if in a daze. And stretching it, pulling it down in a way that was not intentional but still had me burning in a way that even the water was unable to douse.

She cast me a last, desperate look.

"Thank you..." I said, trailing off when I realized I didn't know her name.

"Freya," she croaked. And then she turned on the balls of her feet, walking away with sudden fervor.

I feverishly observed the interplay of hips and waist and buttocks as they danced away from me. I teetered so close, but I held on to my last thread of self control. My breathing was stuck, suspended until she stepped through the door and closed it with that same click of the lock. There was one moment of absolute silence and then I expelled a jagged, rasping breath into the empty room and let go, jet after clattering jet.

This, I realized once I had regained some semblance of control over my jangling nerves, was going to be much harder than I had thought.