Black Rose Ch. 05

"Why?" I moan. She laughs again.

"Come on, Matrick, it's like dancing. Not as much fun when you do it alone." She takes my hand and pulls me to her. I obey. I lift her shirt from her body again, tossing it aside. She turns and pushes out her ass at me, wiggling it side to side. I take hold of her trousers and pull them down, slowly revealing her ass, inch by inch and freeing her from the clothing. Further down I see the curve of her thighs and the definition of her calves, the length of her limbs until she steps free of her clothes and turns to face me again.

"Wash yourself." She says, pointing to those pipes. "Quickly now."

I turn the valve and water sputters out from the pipes above, drenching me. I start with my hair, scrub my face, feeling the heat of the water cleanse the road from my skin. She watches and once I am done she nods approval.

"Tub." She says. Then she steps under the water, while I walk away, eyes locked on her. She tilts her head back and water crashes over her face, soaks her hair. She uses her hands to scrub her skin, cupping her own breasts, water droplets running off her stiffened nipples. She scrubs her legs, bending over and offering me a full view of her ass and pussy, lifting one leg at a time. I sit on the edge of the tub and my hand crawls towards my cock.

"No!" She calls out. I stop my hand and sit, watching. She draws it out, moving slow under the water, bending here and there until she feels that she's clean enough, or that she's tortured me enough. She saunters to the tub with slow, deliberate steps. Her hand touches my shoulder and she steps around me, lowering herself and straddling my thighs. She looks down at my cock, standing firm and tall between us. Her arms are linked behind my neck when she leans in and kisses me, sliding her hips forward until her pussy is resting against my shaft. Then she grinds against it. I groan into her, her wet, warm lips sliding against my cock.

"See. Worth waiting." She says, slowly massaging herself against me.

She leans back and I use a hand to massage a breast, the other stays behind my back to support my body. She grips my thighs, digging her nails in, still slowly grinding on my cock. I grab her harder and she moans, biting her lip and speeding up her movement. She suddenly leans forward and her hands wrap around my throat, tightening while she kisses me, harsh, forceful. I return it, one hand gripping her ass tight and digging in with my shorter nails, the other taking the back of her head.

"Yes." She says, parting from me and pressing her forehead to mine. Her breathing becomes harsher, hitching. Mine matches and I know that I am coming to the edge. Her soft, wet lips stroke my cock with each movement of her hips, sliding up and down the shaft. The head of my cock grazes her clit. She moves faster now, shorter bursts of movement.

I grunt and she throws herself back, arching her back and thrusting her chest up as she grinds herself, her nails on my back and raking my skin. I hold her hips and cum with her. She gasps in tandem with the jets of cum that splash on my stomach and chest, warm and wet, over and over again until I have nothing left. I fall onto my back on the cold stone floor, my legs dangling in the water of the tub and her still sitting there across my thighs. I gasp for breath, my whole body going limp. Or most of my body. She wraps her hand around my cock again and strokes it slowly. I twitch when she does that, overwhelmed with the sensation.

She laughs and lets go, letting my cock fall against my stomach.

"So, tell me." She says, shifting herself up so she's sitting astride my stomach and cock, resting against her. She leans over me. "What's your problem with the Magebreakers?"

I stop breathing, staring at her.

Oh shit.

Rourke

This is nice. I like this.

I sit in the hot water and feel the tension and aches disappear with the heat. I lean back and sink deeper into the water, sighing. Some waystations are little more than a shelter without walls even, just enough to keep the rain off and maybe a pot of stew that never runs out, so you can't quite trust it.

This is one of the nicer ones, of the main trading waystations, I would stop here again.

I only hear the sound of water dripping, echoing in the space. Then I hear a shriek from the hall, it's quick and is silenced a half second later. I am out of the tub and across the floor, wet feet slapping on the stone and through the door. It was Matrick's voice. Across from me a door opens and I see both Kira and Sera, at least Kira thought to grab a towel.

"Matrick?" She asks. I nod. Matrick wouldn't have gone far, the door next to mine has the occupied sign flipped. I shoulder through the door and am proved correct. Matrick is laying on the floor with his legs in the water of his tub, the dark elf from earlier is naked and straddling him. She has a knife in her hand and the blade is against Matrick's throat. Kira and Sera follow me into the room and the door shuts behind us.

"Well, hello." The dark elf says. "I feel less self-conscious now, I was worried this would be awkward."

We stand there, staring. Matrick is blushing, all this and he's fucking blushing.

"Matrick, there is a knife to your throat, no one cares about your dick." I say.

"I don't want to hurt anyone, alright." The dark elf says. "If I take the knife away, you won't crush me into a red paste, right? Stop my heart? Anything that would be detrimental to my health, let's say."

She's looking at Kira. She knows, she knows that Kira is a mage. I clench my fists but there is nothing I can do. No one can move faster than that blade could, even with magic it's just as likely we watch Matrick bleed out right here as we save him.

"I won't. He might." Kira says.

"Fair enough!" The dark elf says. She lifts the blade from Matrick's throat and stands, holding the knife up and away from her, point down and hilt firmly in her hand. "You know it's a real party when everyone is naked. Let's all just take a breath. My name is Taya and I'm not here to hurt anyone. Well, not any one of you."

"There are better ways to talk to people." I say.

"Sure, but those are less fun." She says. "Now, what do you say we all put on some clothes, I'll buy some dinner, and we'll have a conversation. Except you." She points the knife point at Matrick. "You get to buy me dinner. Only seems fair."

"You put a knife to my throat!" Matrick says, his voice cracking.

"Yeah but...you know." Sera says, motioning to Matrick's stomach. "She isn't wrong about the dinner thing."

"Why do we want to have a conversation with you?" Kira asks. Sera has found a towel to wrap around herself, concealing her nakedness. She grabs another from the pile and tosses it to me. I wrap it around my waist and ignore her winking. Graciously, Sera also throws one to Taya, who slings the towel over her shoulder.

"Because you want my help." She says. "See, I pay a lot of money to know things and I get paid a lot of money to act on the things I know. So when a skulking little goblin with a steady hand comes to me with information that I find intriguing...well, why don't we finish this elsewhere."

"Yes. Fucking let's." Matrick mumbles, covering himself awkwardly. As if we didn't all see him splayed there in all his glory when we came in.

"Oh hush, the big one stood there with his cock out and he didn't blush, the elf too. Well, not her cock but you know what I meant." Taya dresses herself, none of us move. She waits. "What?"

"Someone needs to watch her." Kira says. "Rourke?"

"Fine. Stay where you are, Taya. You two get dressed. We'll wait here."

"Do you have to?" Matrick moans.

"Yes." Taya and I answer at the same time. She winks at me and I scowl at her. It doesn't seem to bother her in the least. Matrick is bothered, very bothered, covering himself, poorly. Kira and Sera retreat to their bathing room to dress, leaving just the three of us in Matrick's.

"Clean yourself up, boy." I say. "Be quick about it."

"Aren't you the take-charge type." Taya says while Matrick sullenly slinks into the water and begins to wash himself. At least he can blame the redness of his cheeks and skin on the hot water after that.

"You can shut up." I tell Taya. She laughs, finding a spot to sit and lounging there, feet crossed.

"We're on the same side, you just don't know it yet." She says, leaning back.

"What side is that?" She holds her palm flat and snaps her fingers, whispering something under her breath. A flame dances there above her palm. I stare at it.

Huh.

Interesting.

Kira

All five of us have taken a table in the back corner of the large room. Matrick stares down into his drink, not wanting to make eye contact, much to Sera's amusement. She sits between me and Matrick, her hand on my thigh under the table. Rourke sits across from us, straddling the table's bench and facing Taya, the dark elf.

She dips hunks of torn bread into her stew and chews on them.

"You wanted to talk." Rourke grumbles the words. Taya pushes the bowl of food toward him. He makes a sour face and she shakes her head.

"You're wasting away, eat." She says. Sera snickers and Rourke is the master of the death glare. He mumbles something but starts to eat anyway.

"Good. Talking, then." Taya leans forward. "I just want you to understand one thing. You aren't the only girl that the Elder took in, you aren't the only one who lost everything when the Academy was destroyed, and you aren't the last fucking mage in the world. Running off on a crusade the way you have, leaving the sort of trail that you did, it was very stupid. Each of them should be ashamed for enabling it."

"That was a bit aggressive." Sera says. Matrick has finally looked up and Rourke has a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. I probably don't look impressed either.

"It needed to be. I wanted you to understand a few things before I said what comes after. I've spent eight years picking away at Kellias and his operations. Eight years. We were so close to having enough to take him down and then...then he went and did that. So I want to be clear. I am on your side. Very much so. Go five hundred miles in any direction and you'll find a handful of friends, I'm one of them."

"You want to help us?" I ask.

"Why should we let you?" Sera is next. Rourke nods to that.

"Because you're all very talented at what you do but you don't have a plan. You're just four lost souls trudging down the road and hoping you make it to where you need to go. We need to infiltrate an estate secured by dozens of formidable guards, not a single bandit among them. Magebreakers isn't just the name of the organization, if there are those that are naturally gifted with magic then it would also stand to reason that there are those who are naturally gifted at resisting it, stunting it."

"Kellias' men wear enchanted armor, not unlike your Paladin here. They are capable and well armed, not to mention that Kellias and his family are not weak or incompetent. You've seen that first hand."

Taya looks at Sera when she says that.

"So you have a plan?" I ask.

"I do. But first, I'd like to hear it from each of you." She says, looking each of us in the eye and grinning. Gone is the serious tone that she used for her speech, gone are the eyes of flint, she is relaxed again. Cocksure.

"Hear what?" Matrick asks.

"Oh, I already know that you want me to come." She says, winking at him. "I just need them to say it."

I look at Rourke, Sera, Matrick. They watch me. I don't feel ready for the responsibility of leadership, if that's what this is. She's not wrong. We are just wandering and hoping that things work out. We could use a plan, or someone with one. Rourke is a fighter, hard charging and exceptional at it. Sera is city-smart and vicious. Matrick is becoming a capable fighter at the hands of Rourke but he is as young and naive as I am.

I nod.

"You can come with us."

"If she says so." Sera says.

"Fine." Rourke shrugs. Matrick makes a sullen noise of agreement.

"Let's hear this plan, then." I say, leaning in.

She launches into an explanation and we listen.

Rourke

"I gotta go to sleep." I say. I plant my hands on the table and push myself to a standing position, shaking my head while I do. She talked, answered questions, and now I'm done with it. I'm tired, I'm grouchy, I don't have the willpower to deal with it right now.

"There will be time to talk the details over in the morning." Taya says.

"We only have a few days on the road, I doubt that is enough time to voice all my concerns." I say. "For now, I'm tired, I'm done, I'll see you all in the bright light of morning, where all brilliant ideas born in the darkness die in the harsh light of day and sobriety."

"Whoa." Taya looks at the others. "That was...a little severe, don't you think?"

"Maybe." I shrug. "Maybe not. Find out in the morning."

I begin the exodus. Once the first leaves, it begins a rout and the others stand. Sera hasn't said much but she has a sour look plastered on her face. Kira is contemplative. Matrick has hardly looked up from his drinks through all those hours and when he has he's blushed. Kid has some hang ups about all this.

I leave the mess hall, feet thudding on the wooden floor. I step into the cool night air and listen to the sounds of nature around us. Crickets chirping, the gentle breeze that brings a chill with it. I stretch my back and roll the muscles in my neck and shoulders, stiff from sitting there with my arms on the table.

"It's not a bad plan." She says. I look down to see the dark elf looking out into the dark. Far as I've heard, dark elves are unique in that they have a natural ability to see in the darkness. Not quite like daylight but near enough that some of the most formidable assassins are dark elves.

"It's a horrible plan that will kill everyone." I tell her, looking back up. She chuckles.

"It won't kill everyone. I've been doing this a long time, Paladin Rourke. You can trust me."

"Mm." I grunt. "Goodnight."

I step off into the night, cross the open space and push the door to my room open, closing it behind me and leaning against it. I lean my head back against the wood, relishing the solid feeling of it on the back of my head. I let out a long breath and realize that even after a good, hot bath, all that drained tension has returned.

Great.

I strip my shirt off, trousers shortly after, and fall onto the bed. It's not the worst mattress I've ever slept on but it certainly isn't the nicest either. After a few nights on the ground it's comfortable enough. I roll onto my back and close my eyes. I take three long breaths, in and out, nice and slow. I spent most of my life at war and soldiers know how to sleep pretty much anywhere.

By the time I'm done letting out my third breath I've drifted off into a fitful sleep, filled with dreams of dark elves and bad plans, mages and exploding cities. And dreams of war. New ones, old ones. And in the middle of it all, I see...him.

I hear him laughing at me. Not cruel. Amused.

The prodigal son returns.