Cupid Laughed

Jub the satyr stepped lightly, quietly, along the faint path. He made no noise maneuvering around dry leaves and other fallen debris created from winter. The glade was not far ahead and he saw sunlight streaming through the open space in the heavily-wooded forest. This glade belonged to Azarah the nymph and Jub hoped to 'accidentally' run into her.

The glade sat just below the foothills of Mount Olympus and warm weather was coursing through the Greek countryside. Persephone had returned to the land and brought the beauty of Spring with her. For Jub, warm weather meant the nymphs would be out. And nymphs meant the chance for some light entertainment.

And speaking of nymphs, there Azarah was! Jub couldn't see her yet but his fur prickled in response to the strong singing voice floating through the trees. Jub's brethren preferred the high pitched voices of most nymphs but Azarah's voice, raspy and low, drew him like a siren's song.

He stopped just inside the treeline at the edge of the glade to fix his hair. He scraped a bit of dirt off his horns and straightened his tunic. He kicked at the trunk of a thick oak to knock remnants of mud off his hooves. Spiffy, confident, he emerged into the sunlight.

The singing stopped immediately.

"Zeus curse you!" Azarah yelled at him. Her tone was considerably colder than when she was singing. She swam away from him to the far end of the pool centered in the glade. Her lithe body slid through the water and her long silver hair trailed behind her. Jub felt desire rush through him at the glimpse of her light green skin, velvety-soft, disappearing behind a half-submerged rock.

"You looked quite beautiful, fair nymph," Jub called out, "And I have come to woo you!"

"A satyr wooing anyone?" she retorted, "That's a laugh. You're here for one thing, satyr, and you'll not be having it."

Jeb frowned, his body reacting to her nakedness even as she was concealed.

"It has been a cold, dry winter for me, nymph," he explained, "And I have needs. Certainly you can respect the call of nature. Instinct demands I obey nature and take care of my needs."

"Are you threatening me?" she demanded, cold fury in her voice.

"Not a threat, my lovely," Jub said, feeling his attempted seduction slipping out of control, "An ... encouragement." He stepped into into the warm sunlight of the glade and moved toward her end of the pool.

"I'm not your anything, foul creature!" Azarah retorted, "Here's encouragement to leave me alone!"

She grabbed a nearby rock and hurled it at him. Jub was forced to duck, startled by Azarah's accuracy. He glanced left and right of the pool trying to figure the shorter way to get to her.

Azarah lifted her fingers to her mouth and blew a sharp two-tone whistle. Jub was treated to a glimpse of a perfectly curved breast when her hand moved. His arousal died immediately, though, when a very large and very angry minotaur emerged from the trees on the far side of the glade.

I thought they were still fighting that war with the humans at Achaea, Jub thought. Even if that were true this particular minotaur was very much ready to fight a war with him here in this glade.

"You!" the minotaur bellowed at him, "Go! Do not come back!"

Jub needed no further motivation. He fled, angry at being rebuffed and hurt at the rejection. After all the natural order of things was for satyrs to have needs and for nymphs to satisfy them. Not this time, though.

Umak, the minotaur, smiled once he was satisfied the satyr was indeed gone. He looked away from Azarah, respectful of her nudity, and scanned the treeline. The birds resumed their chirping and things were noisy and normal again. Umak, skilled in tracking, didn't detect any animal sounds alerting to the presence of other trouble-makers. He listened to the sound of Azarah emerging from the water and donning her clothes. He turned to face her when he was certain she was dressed.

Azarah stood before him in all her radiance. She was tall for a nymph and had grace unmatched in this part of the forest. She wore a simple gray shift, with golden threads woven through the hem at her knees. She smiled at him, her brown eyes glittering with merriment, her straight white teeth in stark contrast to her kelly green skin.

How quickly this one recovers from that horrid Jub, Umak thought to himself. Joy poured from Azarah now that she had her glade and her forest back from the interloper.

"My hero," she said sweetly. Umak waved the comment away, feeling like Jub had gotten away with catching an eyeful. The satyr was simply more agile than he was and Umak couldn't make good on pursuit through the forest.

Azarah was about to make a joke in thanks to Umak's efforts when Umak's head snapped up and to the left. He squinted, his eyes probing the undergrowth.

"Did you ...?" he started to ask.

Azarah hissed a shush at him and nodded. She didn't hear so much as feel the scream of the tree. Someone was chopping wood. She focused her attention and could now pick up the rhythmic thwok of axe-work. It hurt her, cuts made on her soul, to know someone was cutting into a living being. A tree. In this woods.

Her tree. In HER woods.

Umak felt it too. He hunched over, shrinking his bulky profile, and moved in the direction of the sound with battleaxe at the ready. Azarah watched him stalk his prey and gave praise to Ares for Umak's skill. She did so quietly, though, since she preferred to not have the attentions of satyrs, much less the God of War.

She gave Umak a twenty-count head start and crept after him, flitting between the trees, remaining nearly invisible in the woods. She found soon Umak toe-to-to with a human. They were speaking quietly but the angry cloud of conflict hovered in the air. Both had placed their axes on the ground in a show of non-aggression but their stances indicated neither was opposed to a fight.

"The Archon has given me rights to this section of the woods," the man, tall and well-muscled for a human, was explaining, "I'll mark the boundaries and respect your side." He stood close to Umak, unafraid of the minotaur trying to intimidate him.

"You fail to respect any of the wood when you destroy the living trees," Umak rumbled, "And the Archon has given you what is not his to give. You will leave," Umak enunciated. Azarah thrilled at the gravel-sound of his command. This was a voice to be obeyed.

"No."

"Then, I will ensure you leave," Umak responded, taking a step back and picking his heavy war axe up off the ground, "And I will take your arms before you do. You will not hurt another tree after this."

The woodsman hefted his own weapon and spoke, his voice a rich baritone full of confidence, "You are invited to try, bullman, but I have taken five heads from warriors of your race. You don't look half as skilled as they were."

The self-assurance in the human's voice caught Azarah's attention. No one in this region had stood up against Umak. The denizens of the woods heeded Umak's word, though he didn't go out of his way to be a bully. He looked evenly matched here despite being taller and heavier. The human had also casually insulted him with the 'bullman' remark. Azarah imagined Jub using that word and shivered at the violence that would have ensued. This felt different. She did not want to rescue the minotaur even if it seemed like he needed it now. His pride wouldn't accept it but his grip of the situation was loosening. Unfortunately, action was required here.

Azarah stepped from her hiding place into view. Both human and minotaur turned toward the movement.

The human's eyes went wide, then narrowed. Umak looked crestfallen that Azarah felt the need to intercede on his behalf. Their hostility focused on her now.

She breathed to calm herself and walked toward the two. This would end right now.

"Human," she spoke, carefully selecting her words, "I know you have friends you would not want to see hurt."

She waited for his acknowledgement. He nodded after a moment.

"These," she gestured around her with graceful, sinuous arms, "Are my friends. I wouldn't see them hurt. Now, as Umak has told you, we are outside the bounds of the Archon's reach and this is not his land, nor was it ever. He has no claim here. You must see you're wrong."

"The Archon," the human said, turning to face her, "Can award any land to anyone on the peninsula. The whole of this region is his and perhaps he has left you unmolested until now. But now is now. This is mine."

Jub, hidden behind the budding leaves of an oregano bush, watched the scene with great interest. After Umak threatened him earlier, Jub had scampered to his hollow oak home, grabbed his bow, and came back to avenge himself of insult. He was surprised to see a human in this part of the woods and he had taken no action now, allowing the scene to play out. At first he had hoped the human and minotaur would do battle. Jub had never fought a war but there were enough songs about great conquests to make them sound interesting. Perhaps they'd fight, ideally resulting with that hideous Umak dead or dying. Jub may even be in a position to finish the half-bull off. He eased the quiver of arrows off his shoulder and onto the grass. Silent, he reached for an arrow, still spying while human and minotaur quarreled.

Then she came into view. The very air was torn from Jub's lungs. He had wandered the lands of Greece and beyond and he had never found a being with the grace and elegance of Azarah. She was perfection, breathed into life. This changed everything and while he still wished to see blood, Jub now had the chance to use his new treasure. The gods rewarded his patience with opportunity.

He remained hidden, silent and patient, observing the drama unfold and paying particular attention to how Azarah's shift clung to her hips.

"Perhaps we started the wrong way," the human said, "My name is Thomas Treefeller."

"I do not care to know your name, human," Azarah replied, "I do care that we find a resolution. That resolution does not include slaughtering trees. They are our friends and need not die." She nodded toward Umak, "Though it may end in your own destruction. This friend, unlike our trees, swings an axe too."

Thomas eyed Umak, who met returned his gaze.

"Minotaur, I will challenge you to single combat, per the conduct expected from one from your great people. You do know how this will end, though," Thomas said.

Umak failed to conceal a grimace. He was a proud member of his race but he was not a classically-trained warrior. He could handle just about anyone except for seasoned fighters. This Thomas held himself like a veteran soldier. Umak found it plausible the human had been victorious against his kind.

Azarah pulled Umak aside, away from Thomas.

"Do this thing, I beg you," she crooned to him, her hands stroking his bull's snout, affection in her eyes. "Protect our forest."

Umak's eyes flicked over her head at the human. He looked back at her and she saw fear in his eyes. The human was big, yes, barrel-chested with thick arms from swinging an axe. He hesitated.

Azarah didn't understand the problem. She had seen Umak defeat other minotaurs, centaurs, and even a harpy once, much less the satyrs that roamed the forest every so often. She grimaced then, thinking of Jub, the nasty thing.

Umak saw her expression and feared the worst: Azarah had lost her faith in him. In that moment, he knew he would die here on the edge of the forest he had dedicated his life to protecting. He would die in the name of love for Azarah and his honor. A determined calm overcame him and he hefted his axe.

Jub, from the cover of the oregano bush, saw the grimace too. Now was the time! He selected an arrow from his quiver. This one was different. He had recently appropriated it from a trader who claimed it was one of Eros's arrows. The head was heart-shaped and looked cut from a blood ruby. The shaft was pink and made from a perfectly smooth material like ice. The fletchings were cardinal feathers, red and narrow. This arrow was rumored to cast a love spell on whomever was struck. Jub didn't want to pay the six silver the merchant demanded so he waited until the man's back was turned and helped himself. His plan came together then, and he loved it.

Azarah was whispering words of encouragement to the ugly minotaur she'd never love. And if Jub could loose the arrow fast enough, she'd fall desperately in love with that monstrosity just in time to watch him be slaughtered by the human. Her heart would be broken and then Jub, the handsomest in the forest, would help mend her emotional wounds. Jub nocked the arrow and drew back, slowing his breathing in practiced measures.

Everything happened quickly then.

Jub shifted slightly to better position himself and fired. Thomas saw the movement and reacted instantly. He shouted and threw himself into minotaur and nymph. Jub fired true and the arrow zipped through the air and buried itself into Azarah's shoulder blade. She went down with a cry, driven to the ground by the arrow. Face-down, she didn't move.

Umak snarled and attacked, charging into the bushes with a warcry. He flushed out Jub who jumped up and fled. Thomas momentarily watched the two disappear into the trees before turning his attention to the fallen nymph. He knelt at her side to administer to her wound.

The arrow's shaft changed before his eyes. The pink color faded to white. The arrowhead, deep in the nymph's back, seemed to dissolve and the arrow dislodged and dropped harmlessly to the ground. A red mark, vaguely heart-shaped, faded from her green skin. Moments later she stirred and rolled over.

Azarah shook the cobwebs from her head. She remembered the human shouting and then there was nothing. She felt herself climbing out of unconsciousness, returning to the world. She looked up. The human was kneeling next to her, unabashed concern on his face.

My, she thought to herself, he is certainly handsome.

He reached down to help her up and she felt strength of spirit flowing through him. He had thick wavy black hair and a neatly-trimmed beard. She liked that. The other creatures of the woods, Umak included, had wild fur or unkempt hair. This human, Thomas, was different, clean. Azarah couldn't detect the normal odors of grime she associated with others in the woods. Even his light sweat smelled sweet.

Thomas's concern was palpable in his light blue eyes. He pulled her to her feet effortlessly, his warm firm hand gentle on hers. She smiled at him, his kindness putting him in a new light.

"Thank you, Thomas," she said.

Thomas's eyes narrowed at the name. He nodded acknowledgement and scanned the trees around them, looking for Umak. Azarah put a hand on his face, stroking his cheek with her fingertips and directing his face to hers.

"He's gone and he'll stop at nothing to catch Jub," she murmured, "It's just us."

Thomas stepped back out of reach.

"This is a trick, nymph," he said, "And I am not a lust-ridden satyr who'll fall for it."

Azarah shook her head.

"You'd hear Umak if he were near," she said, stepping forward to close the distance. She reached out to him. Her silky palms caressed his muscled forearms. "It is just us," she paused, "But we cannot have you killing trees."

"You would seduce me to stop me from cutting down the forest?" he asked.

"No, Thomas," she breathed, "I ... "

She stopped. Thomas saw the pleading in her eyes. She wouldn't beg but the the mix of emotions was authentic. He had no idea what could have changed her so quickly. She was ready to set her pet fighter on him moments ago and now she ...

Now she was different. She leaned in, pressing her body against his, feeling the solid muscle and heat radiating from his body. She felt safe with him despite the tree-killing axe. Despite his name "Treefeller." She knew most humans lacked empathy and appreciation for anything other than their own welfare but she could sense more in Thomas. He had, after all, come to her aid when she was hit by whatever Jub shot at her. She looked up and met his gaze, held him there. She conveyed her newly-found love for him through her eyes. And she could tell he understood.

He sighed, resigned, looking around.

"What would you have me do instead?" he finally asked.

"Thomas Stonecutter?" Azarah offered, a smile playing on her lips, "I know of a quarry untouched by human or beast. It is on this land."

Thomas fought to hide laughter. Azarah had not said "your land" but "this land". He was amused that she'd still argue the ownership rights. He decided to test her.

"You mean my land, yes?" he asked, voice full of innocence.

She gritted her teeth before realizing he was teasing. She smiled at him, a bright beautiful smile. Twin hints of red bloomed under the green of her cheeks. Her eyes twinkled in merriment. She slid her hand up his forearm, along his bicep and under the top of his tunic. His human skin was free of fur and smooth compared to satyrs and centaurs. Azarah liked the feel of the springy hair instead of fur. She explored his well-built chest and torso with her fingers. He stood quietly enjoying her reaction.

"It brings me joy to know my friends," she said, looking at the forest, "are safe and free."

Thomas nodded assent while reacting to the impossibly soft caresses of her hand. He had never seen a nymph much less been touched by one. Her skin was as soft as moss on the forest floor. He dared caress her shoulders, his strong hands gently stroking her arms. Her skin was unblemished and downy, exotic silk.

Azarah tiled her head and stood on her tiptoes to reach him. Thomas leaned down, his arms encircling her, pulling her into an embrace to kiss her. Their mouths met and she kissed him back, forcefully. She tasted of honeydew and the scent of lilacs swirled up to meet him. Her hands, more urgent now, moved lower on his body, reaching under the knotted cord at his waist. Thomas inhaled sharply when she gripped his manhood.

He could feel her smile as she broke off the kiss.

"You would need no other tools to be a stonecutter," she said, smiling, her hand sliding up and down his length. He let her stroke him before picking her up off the ground. She was light as a feather, lithe and willowy. She let out a girlish squeal and laughed, kicking her legs in protest. He held her there until she put both hands on his chest and pushed.

Thomas pretended to lose his balance and fall backward. Azarah landed on top of him, straddling his torso. She pulled her shift up to her hips and bared her body from the waist down. Thomas quickly pulled his clothes out of the way.

Azarah gasped as she slipped Thomas inside her. She stood still for a moment, enjoying the thrill of a human for the first time. Heat flared up from her belly and she started moving her body on his.

It did not take long for either. She rode him, rolling her hips and grinding herself into his taut lower stomach. He grunted and put his hands under his head, cradling it in the dewy grass. Azarah, in control, quickened her pace. Her breathing became ragged and every fiber of her body went tight, trembled.

Passion exploded through her as she came, releasing the pent-up energy in her body. Thomas groaned beneath her and she kept up her pace, allowing him to take his pleasure. The last of the sensation ebbed away and she slowed, stopped. Thomas grinned up at her and she met his smile with her own. Then she yawned. Spent, she rolled off him and curled up next to him, enjoying the warmth emanating from his body.

They were quiet for several minutes, simply being with each other.

"Stone makes for good houses," she said after they caught their breath, "It will be stronger that way. THIS will be stronger that way."

Her hand crept out and took his. Their fingers intertwined as they both gazed up at the sky, together.