Athaniel's Libation Ch. 06

My afternoon delight with Freya came to an abrupt end far too soon. One moment we were blissfully dozing in our tangled, stained sheets, the next she was up and moving. 

"You should show your face in the ale hall," she said. "Might be seen as an insult if you don't." 

I groaned and heaved myself into a sitting position. The bloody ale hall. I'd much rather stay here where it was peaceful, and I had charming company. 

"Come," she beckoned, standing beside the bath. "Let me do my job."   

It wasn't just me in need of a wash, I noticed. Her hair was an unholy mess and skin sticky with the half-dried remnants of our salacious escapades. 

"Only if you join me," I said.

She smiled and raked her messy mane off her face with slender fingers.  Then, chin lifted high, she purred, "I was rather hoping to wear you." 

I gawked at her. "You want to parade around the keep with my seed crusted in your hair?"

She shook her head. "No, my duties will only take me to the princess's bedchamber." 

"Ah..." That confirmed my suspicions. I wasn't the only one enjoying Freya's intimate attentions.

She watched the realization dawn on me, an amused little smile playing about her lips. Then she nodded at the bath again. "Well?" 

I extricated myself stiffly from the bed. And by stiffly, I don't mean my joints. I strode across the room, my eager cock bobbing as Freya's smiling gaze followed. 

"You seem rather taken with the idea," she remarked.

I mumbled something unintelligible. 

When I reached her, she wrapped her hand around my straining cock. "I'm sure she will be too." 

Bloody hell.

"Perhaps I should give you more to wear then?"

"Perhaps you should," she said as she dropped to her knees before me.

----------

By the time I dragged myself to the ale hall, dinner was being served. Though the platters of spit-roasting game and trays of steaming roots garnered little excitement. A grim sense of purpose infused the drinking, and many a bleary, vacant set of eyes--some downright hostile--followed me as I entered, reminding me how alone and vulnerable I was here. 

I scanned the tables for Forna but didn't spot him. Mala, I noticed, was also not in attendance. After Freya's oblique comments, I couldn't help but wonder uncomfortably why she'd foregone dinner. 

Hinde sat at the far end of the hall with a glowering Kaelfred. They were further away than previous evenings. I wondered if his challenge had cost him socially.

Kaelfred's murderous gaze stalked me as I crossed the hall. Clearly, the man didn't know when to quit. My eyes shot to Hinde. Her gaze told a different tale. As if her smoldering look wasn't enough, she trailed a finger along her neck and down her chest, to toy with the hem of her dress.

As she held me captive with her come-hither stare, I felt Freya's hard work unraveling. I groaned inwardly.

Kaelfred glared sideways at Hinde and angrily slapped her hand away, but her smile never wavered as she met his gaze.

I looked away, eager to avoid inflaming this combustible situation further, and made for an empty table at the far end of the hall. But as I glanced around, Waentsin waved me over. 

He sat at the head of a table with his wife, rather than on the dais with the absent king. Not knowing what else to do, I took an empty seat across from Princess Innifer, one of the few women remaining.

"Lord Athaniel!" Waentsin bellowed over the subdued chatter. "Welcome to celebrate your victory! I trust you had a good nap?" 

I grimaced, but saw no reason to contradict him. "Please accept my apologies, lord. I fear the fight exhausted me more than I care to admit." 

He eyed me with a wolfish grin and cold eyes. "That nap must've done you good. Most words I've ever heard you speak!" He laughed nastily, looking to his wife for a reaction. She smiled politely when his gaze fell upon her. 

I ignored his jibe and turned to his wife. "Lady Innifer, how are you today?"

She glanced at Waentsin, who shrugged. Then she looked back at me. "How kind of you, Lord Athaniel, I am wonderful."

I stared, waiting for her to continue, but she just gazed at me with large, dark eyes shining moistly. There was something in the set of them that drew me in. I sensed a truly gentle spirit there. A part of me clambered to take her in my arms and spirit her away from her pig of a husband, to show her she deserved a better man.

My gaze flickered down to take in her voluptuous curves, barely contained by her dress, trapped between fabric and flesh. I glimpsed the puckered flesh where one areola disappeared into shadow. After Hinde's intimate attentions, I couldn't help wondering what miraculous feats Innifer's attributes were capable of.

So much for being the better man, I mused guiltily as I tore my eyes away to find her blushing and her husband grinning.

That concluded my conversation with Lady Innifer. Paying no heed to the awkwardness, Waentsin butted in, peppering me with questions about the fight. We discussed fighting styles and weapons, eventually progressing to him bragging about his armies' might. 

I followed along politely while devouring a plate piled high with parts of at least three different animals. Though facing away from Kaelfred and Hinde, I felt Hinde's eyes boring into my back. And Kaelfred's too. Both with a different intensity. Trouble brewed there, and also in my nethers, which cared nothing for glowering husbands. Pointedly ignoring Innifer's ample display across the table did nothing to alleviate my building discomfort. 

"War's coming," Waentsin declared smugly, blessedly startling me out of my reverie. "Our people grow bored without fighting." 

My attention snapped back to the conversation. War? Mala had mentioned this, claiming it was why her father--or rather, his son-in-law--had made peace with my people. 

"War with who exactly?" I asked, eager to learn more.

Waentsin ripped into a charred bird leg with his teeth, managing to chew and grin simultaneously. "Marless... The Duke of Marless. Very powerful man. Doesn't like me." 

"I guess it must be time for war then," I said sardonically.   

Waentsin guffawed. "Exactly!" He waved the poultry, gesturing around the room. "My men will crush him." 

His men. He seemed quite sure of that. Yet his position relied solely on his marriage to Innifer. Unless he put a child in her, his situation could easily change. 

I had nobly refused Mala's proposal, unwilling to betray my heritage and past for human politics. Yet hours later, I'd been spilling my seed in Hinde's womb. And Freya... 

No matter how abundant, the past was slipping away from me. I drifted inexorably downstream, left only to go with the flow and use the tools I had at hand. Which seemed to boil down to the psychotropic content of my balls.

I considered Innifer again, with new eyes. Largely, her gaze was fixed on Waentsin, whom she seemed to idolize, smiling at his jokes and boasts.

Several times, she leaned over the table, trapping her soft breasts between ribcage and wood, causing them to spill onto the table. Her dress struggled mightily but ultimately failed to contain their abundance. Yet each time she sat up, the fabric emerged victorious, the loyal garment still managing to contain the barest minimum of propriety. I did my best and tried desperately not to stare, but couldn't help stealing glances.   

Waentsin would grin smugly every time he caught me getting lost in the chasm between her breasts.

"My wife was secretly rooting for you in the fight," he shared suddenly. "She admired your refusal to drink. Hasn't touched a drop in ages. Not even the ladies' wine!" He chuckled. "Her own wine!" 

"Curious," I murmured, watching embarrassment flood her features. 

"Stopped after our wedding," he went on. "Says drink makes her act improper for a married woman." 

I nodded politely. 

"Very proper. Good wife," he added, patting her arm like he would one of his hounds. 

She made moon eyes at him, basking in his supposed compliment.

"Admirable," I mumbled, my gaze heroically resisting the pull of gravity. 

The remnants of the celebration, if you could ever call it that, were clearly winding down. More and more men stood wordlessly and stumbled morosely out of the hall. Shortly after finishing my meat plate, I excused myself from the excruciating company of the princess, whose visual stimulation was slowly incinerating my nerves, and her self-congratulatory husband who I was ready to throttle.

Hinde and her glowering spouse still picked at their meals. As I rose, Kaelfred glanced aside, glaring as Hinde's hungry gaze followed me out.  

What was he going to do? Hinde made no attempt to hide her adoration. But did he know the extent? Did he know that while he slept off his stupor, surrounded by empty tankards and half- eaten fare, his wife had staggered through these empty halls, leaving a trail of my seed on the cold flagstones? 

If so, what could he do? Another challenge would make him a laughingstock. Complain to Waentsin? He'd seem weak. No, he'd likely take it out on me. Or on Hinde. 

These thoughts echoed around my head while my footsteps bounced hollowly off the stone walls of the keep.

My ever-rising libidinous tide had taken on a sour note, like sweat turned rancid from fear, so did the throbbing feel acrid in my loins. I could not recall the beauty of Innifer, or Hinde, without seeing the glowers and malicious smirks of their male counterparts.

How I had taken it all for granted: falling asleep sated among loved ones that wished me no harm. Being able to live in peace, surrounded by beauty, in the ancestral forests of my people.

When I entered my chambers, I went straight to the smoldering hearth, and lifted [[Zanael]] from the pegs where she was so insistently displayed. Her solid weight felt cool... calming in my hand.

I drew her from her scabbard to run a finger along her length. The smoothness of the wood, worn to perfection by centuries of daily use, was like the skin of a long-lost lover. At least I had her. Even if she was all I had.

Resolutely, I turned on my heels and marched back out of the room, Zanael slung over one shoulder. Maybe some practice in the moonlight would ground me. If I found some measure of self-connection, hopefully my mind would be calm enough for peaceful slumber.

But even as I walked back down through the keep, thoughts of grounding my feet and flowing through the forms kept being replaced by hopeful fantasies of Hinde, come to seek a repeat performance of a different set of forms.

No respite came from the repeat of the movements I'd practiced for so many centuries. The familiar flow of muscle and sinew brought no peace. All around me, the fruit trees whispered of what had passed between them the night before, recounting the tale again and again, a torment of memory.  

Four cycles in, I surrendered. Zanael hung from my fingers, forgotten as I stood amid the trees and sighed. Now what? Prowl the keep for...what? A warm body to slake my thirst?

Any resistance, any guilt I'd felt, had fled, leaving only raw bitter need.

Dinner flashed before my eyes--vast swells of flesh spilling onto the table, burned into my memory. So close I could've reached out and... My hands ached to know, to possess that feeling, that experience, to recall and use. So wrong, and yet so thrilling.

Should I send for Mala then? Tell her I'd reconsidered her offer? How would she convince Innifred to satisfy this urge? Had I truly sunk so low that I would even consider manipulating women to fulfill my own desire?  

With a defeated clink, Zanael slid home. I sighed and trudged back to the keep.

As expected, sleep evaded me. Even with the window flung wide, I tossed and turned on the feather mattress, engulfed in its cloying softness. My prickly skin stuck to the damp sheets, left from Freya's and my earlier... lovemaking? Fucking? A bit of both, I would say. Was that love then? These days?

Frustrated, I threw the covers back and got up. The firmness of the divan offered escape. Cool air kissed my naked skin as I finally drifted into the twilight where visions bloom: memories, fantasies, desires. Mostly desires. 

I floated through clouds and over trees, red rocks and winter caves, along the swinging bridge crossing Miath Falls. Home rose before me--platforms perched in an elder's branches, built the summer after the Zintha springs.

Isani lay on her side, draped languidly while Razaniel, Sarlai's brother, crouched behind her, fucking her languidly. Lethana, Sarlai and Elliana lay tangled on a pile of cushions on the other side of the platform, Simultaneously, they all burst out in laughter. 

"Her tits were like cows' udders!" Sarlai gasped. "She had to rest them on the table!" 

"Poor Athaniel," Elliana sighed. "Maybe it's for the best, really. Maybe being surrounded by women so utterly revolting will curb his appetites." She paused. "And she's their princess?"

"No," I gasped, but they didn't hear. I drifted closer yet remained unseen, a ghost.

"She is! And she just sits there like a mute, while her husband brags about her enormous tits!"

"And Athaniel just has to sit there and pretend they're anything other than an affront to nature? How does he do it?"

"No!" My shout echoed into nothingness... where it mingled with their laughter.

I bolted awake with a terrorized gasp. It had been just a dream, but their laughter still echoed between my ears, just as shame slithered in my gut. Would they really mock Innifer so cruelly?

The dark wrapped me in silence, cloying and suffocating. I tried banishing it with images of Freya, of Hinde--my cock stirred without a care of the dread that still coiled in my gut.

I was about to get up, to pace or stare morosely out the window, when a click sounded from the door. Breathlessly, I watched the door open and a blade slide through the crack, followed by Kaelfred's shadow.   

I held my breath, naked, cock in hand, as he padded past the divan where I was perched. He stopped by the bed, glaring at the rumpled sheets. "You filthy elf bastard. You think you can fuck my wife? Defile my property?"  

He raised his sword to hack at me--or what he thought was me. In an instant, he would find out that shadow was not me. My chance was fleeting; I sprang.

"Shit!" His sword tangled in the sex-damp sheets. I jumped him, judging that choking him from behind was my best bet.

I landed on his thick back and slipped an arm round his neck. Before I could clamp down, though, he squirmed in an arm, turning my chokehold into, well, just a hold. I rode his back, naked, cock digging between us. One hand squishing his face, fingers searching for his eyes. 

"The fuck?!" he roared. In response, I found his eyes and clamped down.

Outraged, he gurgled something unintelligible and turned to roll me off. Spinning, he swung me in circles.

A cackle burst from my lungs. In a matter of days, my life had gone from sad to confusing to surreal-- and now had reached the stage of being outright absurd. I rode him like a filly needing breaking and even let out a woop before he slammed me into a bedpost with a splintering crack.  

Before I caught my breath, he was straddling me, hands round my neck, squeezing the life away.  

I met his eyes, pushed up with my groin. "At least I'll die happy," I grunted through my constricted throat.

Shock crossed his face and in the brief respite, I snuck out an arm and punched him in the chin. It should've knocked him out cold, but the bastard was sturdy and barely blinked before he got back to work, crushing my windpipe.

I readied myself for another punch but stopped when Hinde suddenly appeared behind my attacker. A chamber pot flashed in the moonlight. A loud clang, and Kaelfred let out a satisfied sigh before slumping onto me for a sleepy time cuddle.

"I had him," I said.

"Sure." She rolled him off me, letting his body crumple to the stone floor. "I rather have you." She eyed me, naked and eager. "You liked that, eh?" She nodded at my cock, hiking her skirt up.

"Beards are growing on me." I smirked, grabbing my cock to aim it upwards.

Her dress rustled as she squatted, and she slid me in deep with a sigh. She rode me slowly, her hips rocking inside a mountain of gray satin and lace.

"What about him?" I nodded at Kaelfred, sprawled beside us. 

"What about him?" She half-opened her eyes, nibbling her lip as she pushed deep, rocking, nudging inside.

"He'll wake up."     

"Mmm... you can show him how it's done. How I need to be fucked." She rocked harder. "Eh?" 

"But he'll try to kill me again." I thrust up, adding force.

"Oh!" She laughed throatily. "So good." Then she fumbled with the knot that held the laces of her dress together.

"Hinde..." I started. But she put her finger on my mouth and interrupted me. "Shhh."

She began pulling the laces from her dress, freeing an impressive length of cord and letting it pile up on the floor beside us. Finally, the confounded garment fell away, revealing her heavy breasts, barely contained by a thin chemise. My hands wandered up of their own accord, eager to feel the heft of those wondrous globes. 

"No." Hinde gently pushed them away, a sly smile playing about her lips. She rose and stepped casually over Kaelfred's lifeless body, discarding her dress atop me.

"It's time he learns how it feels to be powerless."

I watched, mesmerized, as Hinde knelt and set about binding Kaelfred's hands and ankles while her shift rode up to reveal tantalizing glimpses of her thighs and buttocks. 

"Impressive," I remarked when she was done. 

"I've imagined doing that for so long. I must have had enough practice." Hinde shrugged and pulled her shift over her head, baring herself fully to me at last.

My mouth went dry. Hinde dragged her dress off me and straddled me, guiding my eager cock back between her slick folds with a sigh of pleasure.

"Umm, so good." She began rocking her hips, enveloping me in silken heat.

I clutched her waist, content for the moment to watch her take her pleasure.

There was no need to rush this now that her boar of a husband was safely tied up. Speaking of which; A hoarse groan told me Kaelfred had awoken to the salacious scene unfolding before him.

He strained against his bonds, face crimson with rage. 

"You insubordinate cow! Get off him now!"

Hinde dismounted swiftly and crawled over to her irate husband. Kaelfred's eyes followed her, spitting venom, as she reached for the laces of his breeches. His eyes went round with shock as Hinde yanked the garment down, exposing the smallest cock I had ever seen, nestled like an acorn in a bird's nest of of coarse hair. Kaelfred fell abruptly silent. 

"There now." Hinde gently stroked Kaelfred's hair in a strangely tender gesture. "You're going to watch and learn how your wife likes to be fucked. Or I'll invite the whole keep in to come see this little boy." She booped his little thing with her index finger.

Kaelfred's scowl deepened, but he held his tongue. My mind reeled at this revelation. No wonder these warriors were obsessed with proving their masculinity any way they could.

Hinde glanced over her shoulder at me, eyes hooded with longing. "Come on, lover. Show us how it's done."

She kneeled with her wide hips canted up invitingly, pink folds glistening. A droplet of arousal trickled onto Kaelfred's leg, eliciting a growl from me. I shuffled forward on my knees until they pressed against either side of Kaelfred's thighs, my rigid cock poised at Hinde's entrance. I hesitated. Was I really about to do this? 

But Hinde mewled impatiently, rocking back against me. Slick heat engulfed my bollocks and a glob of seed spurted onto her back. Clearly, my treacherous body had no qualms about this madness.