Fates Ch. 01: The Meeting

Note: I'm back in fantasy, my favorite genre! This new series will (again) be a longer term series, plenty of story, lots of kinky smut, and casual hypersexuality which I always enjoy. Be prepared for non sexual chapters. As normal, expect thiccness and massive dicks, as well as a hot harem ;)

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The story began on a simple summer evening. The night sky had descended onto the kingdom like a shadowy curtain, yet the uncomfortable heat was relentlessly causing people to have a glaze of shining sweat across their brows.

The town of Framton was a rather small, yet dense community of humans. Bakers, butchers and sweet makers were the common profession, and they were always named the best across the southern dominances across the kingdom. In this town was an inn called The Kneeling Kneader. Like Framton, it was small but could pack more than most inns, and like most nights the tavern area was bustling with those who were coated with ingredients and stank of their respective professions.

The grizzled young man sat in the corner of the inn, as the job he received ordered him to. On the opposite side of him, sandwiching the small circular table which the man had made his home on, was one other seat.

His bright hazel eyes cut through the shroud which his hood created over his handsome features, he was observing. From left to right he darted quickly from patron to patron, some drunk, others high on some kind of recreational drug that spread around town. He noticed some drinkers, men in particular, watched him with scepticism. The young man assumed they saw him as a trespasser, or perhaps a danger to their daughters innocences given his light leather plated armor and longsword that rested beside him at all times made him seem mysterious, and rugged.

Or perhaps they were looks of jealousy. The young man noticed the frequent waitresses clad in their loose uniforms pass over him, trying to strike up conversation; any kind of meaningless topic which the man needn't bother himself with. Still, some of them were pretty; the one with the dusty blonde hair tied into a braid looked like one of those women who would be an animal in bed. In his experiences, the ones that looked from afar and kept quiet were always the most eager to give pleasure, and the most thankful to receive it.

A warm bead of sweat pushed its way down the man's forehead, tickling his sun kissed skin on its journey from the pores of his temple down toward the time grown stubble he wore. It was a sign to drink. With a hard sigh the man grasped his large pint glass of iced water and took a long gulp, taking in a small shaving of ice between his lips to cool the insides of his cheeks. He spat it out back into the condensated glass once the chill had worked its magic.

"Late." he muttered to himself as the hustle and bustle of the night's festivities began to enter the rowdy stage of drunkenness. The job request specifically instructed to meet at the Kneeling Kneader when the moon had met its highest point; yet here the man was, alone, thinking about the cute blonde who smiled at him again, rather than the client he was set to meet.

The job paper was laid out in front of him beside the pint glass. A simple job. Escort duty. Work he hated. His forte was monster hunting, merc work, security for weddings and the like. This was far away from any sort of job he would usually do.

Yet he felt drawn to the job, there was a mystery to it all. It wasn't often he had that feeling; but every time he did, the young man always walked away better off. That meant he had to take it. But he disliked late comers, to him, it meant the client really wasn't in desperate need, otherwise they would be around early. He eventually met an ultimatum, by the end of the glass, if his client, this 'Trysh' had not appeared, then he would move to that braided blonde and finally answer the question across the back of his mind: Would she spit or swallow?

A short time passed before the hooded figure slipped into the inn quietly, like a cat through an open window. The figure was short, no taller than five foot four. Which, to the young man, meant his client was either a feminine male with a girly name, or a woman. Wrapped tightly around her was a deep green cloak that she tugged at to surround whatever she was wearing underneath.

It was hard to make out her features, the hood that she kept over her head ensured that, but there were still some things of note which the man kept in his mind. The first being how the hood opened out around the ears, like something long poked at the sides of the rough looking fabric. The eyes were second, as even from across the flame lit inn he could see how they glowed with a brilliant sapphire blue.

Those same eyes darted across every space they could find. Until they met his. A small nod from him was the only signal she needed to approach with quick steps, her cloak and the slithers of pure white underneath the covering dragged and dusted against the floor until she stood over the table. She sat, shifting the seat forward and assumed perfect posture, hands flat against her lap as she gave a quick look over the man.

"Hello. Aro I hope? Apologies to keep you waiting. I ran into some trouble at the markets earlier and needed to meditate a little. Have you been waiting long? Do you think you can escort me tonight? I have been spending far too much time in Framton and I would like to see the back of it..." She shifted with discomfort, which allowed a slither of bleached blonde hair to escape the hood and dangle down over one brilliant sapphire eye.

She spoke quickly, tones sweet as sugar and soft as honey. She almost sounded frantic to Aro, nervous too. He noticed how she would only look into his hazel eyes for mere seconds before falling away and blushing under her darkened hood.

Aro hummed softly, giving one last look to the dusty blonde before removing his own hood to formally engage with the meeting. "I am he. And you are Trysh?"

"Trysh'alia. My friends call me Trysh."

Aro took a deep sip of water and swallowed it down, gasping with a relieved sigh before softly placing it back onto the smooth, varnished table. "Ok then Trysh. Before we go any further, get rid of the hood. This place is full of people with nothing to hide. So trying to hide yourself only makes you look like you're hiding something."

He pointed at the hood, and gave a small gesture around the room that had started to look at his hooded friend rather than him. Even the waitresses moved their attention to his client; something which only slightly disgruntled him.

"Before I go anywhere with you." He started. "I need to know some things. A destination would be ideal, and what sort of danger follows an Elf so badly that she asks someone like me to help?"

Right away Aro saw how the hooded woman changed her expression. He had seen it before, irritation which was being hidden behind pursed lips, and slightly flared nostrils. She briefly glanced over both shoulders, seeing how their table was being watched from the corners of patrons eyes, she sighed and dropped the hood over her shoulders.

Her smooth, pale skin and her delicate elven features was the first thing Aro fixed his hazel eyes on. Her bleach blonde hair was tucked under her cloak, and also behind her long pointed ears which were adorned with numerous silver rings and clasps that ran up the undersides of each knifed ear. She was pretty, beautiful even...In fact, the longer Aro looked into her the more he felt his entire being relax. He had always liked elves, as did most men. Elves were the walking goddesses of the kingdom, and seeing Trysh before him only proved the idea to be true.

She closed her large blue doe eyes tiredly, then looked up into his as their gazes met. Seconds passed with silence between them. Her cheeks grew a hint of red as her frustrated look subsided, now her full, puffy lips pouted out contently as she softly cleared her throat.

"Yes....Right...Urm..." She started, shaking her head softly that caused her shimmering blonde hair to wiggle with her, the clink of her jewelry sounding softly through the small space between them.

"I am Trysh, as I have said before. I need someone to act as an escort, or bodyguard. I need to be taken to the small town of Riverrun just beyond the forest..." She shifted in herself on the wooden chair and made for the small metal clasps of her cloak. underneath the rough green fabric was an extremely baggy white robe, untarnished by dirt or sweat. Silver markings ran over it, weaving elegant elvish decals.

*Some kind of priestess robes?* Aro thought.

"Seeing as you knew I was an Elf, I guess it's important to tell you that I am-was a priestess of Vernande. Elven goddess of celibacy and abstinence." She let out a deep breath after talking, like it was hard for her to give out the information.

Her voice distracted Aro, in the best way possible. It was alluring, and beautiful at the same time; just looking at her godlike features and hearing her talk drove a great passion within his soul to protect her. He would accept the task even if it meant hurting an innocent, his growing need to be her guardian grew within him at an alarming rate.

"The forest is dangerous for anElf. Not just the maze of roads and the moving paths, if the trees don't like your aura you could get lost in there forever...Not to mention the Feral Orcs and bandits that live there." the young man said cooly, taking a large gulp of the iced water and slamming it down with a thud.

"It is likely we will run into more than just Orcs and vile men. Without getting into details, soldiers of Vernande's temple are looking for me, all across the kingdom. So I am placing a great deal of trust in you to...you know...Guard me." She darted her eyes to and from Aro, every time he noticed her cheeks flush deeper than they would the last time she looked at him. "I need to get as far away from the temple as fast as possible, you're free to leave me at Riverrun if you please...Or continue on with me as long as you're headed in the right direction..."

Aro nodded and smiled that devilishly handsome smile at her. "I accept. It just so happens that I am headed for Riverrun too. I have some business with a...Friend of mine." He reached his hand forward and delicately let it hang there. The hard and rough skin of his palm greatly differed from Trysh's incredibly delicate and smooth skin. "My only rule is I get half the pay now and half once we pass the gates of Riverrun." He nodded his head toward the outstretched hand and Trysh exhaled through her nose heavily.

She of course met men like Aro before. Men who always looked upon her with unbridled lust, always trying to crop a feel of what lies underneath her incredibly baggy robes. But at least to her Aro was handsome...Incredibly so...So much so that she felt a little pride within herself that she had caught his attention rather than the women who clearly were interested in him.

*He is what the girls of the temple would call a 'Womanizer' always chasing skirts and getting under them...Why am I thinking of this? I am a devoted follower of the patron of purity.* She bottled her thoughts down deep within her and nodded with agreement.

"Of course. Half now and half later is a standard for you adventuring types I have been told." The Elf reached into her cloak and produced a small leather pouch of coins which she delicately placed onto Aro's open palm. Her hand lingered on his for a moment, longer than necessary. She felt the hard calluses and the roughness of his hand on hers...She hated that she thought the feeling was nice, hated that the quick thought of how his rough hands would feel on her delicate naked body plagued her mind for just a second. With a delayed jump she pulled her hand back, dragging against his as she placed it back onto her lap.

*Goddess I knew I should not have overhealed that cursed boy in the market. I must be strong, Vernande will never forgive me if I betrayed her teachings by thinking with such lewdity.*

"So, you know who I am now. Tell me, who are you exactly? Who's this person you're meeting in River Run? Your... friend?" Trysh could not stop the burning of her cheeks, yet acted casually despite how hot and bothered she had started to become.

Aro lifted the weight of the small bag up and down his palm. The density was accurate, yet now all he wanted to feel was her hand on his again. The hormonal young man in his early twenties had felt slightly guilty in having the flippant thought of what she looked like under those thick robes. It was natural, any man would think the same when it came to elves. They were perfection when it came to physical beauty; most men would have probably let her travel with them for free, if she batted those pretty eyes and gave an innocent pout, with the added action of pushing her chest up with her arm, all Elves were busty, Aro knew that even with her robed that she too had bosoms the size of watermelons...

"No one to worry about. My blacksmith. A few weeks back I left my sword with her to be fixed after a bad job." Aro intentionally left out the part where he walked out on her in the middle of the night while she slept naked beside him in her bed. Aro looked over to the bland steel blade that rested against the table beside him. He frowned at the mere sight of it, not only was it ugly, but it was too light, at times he felt like he was swinging a stick instead of a dangerous tool of death. "On my honor as a man, she will do you no harm."

His explanation was met with a look of skepticism from his client. Her thin black brows crunched ever so slightly and she parted her pouty lips to talk only to pause, and shake her head. It seemed they both had parts of their stories which they did not want to share with one another. Aro sat back and confidently looked into her deep blue eyes.

Trysh folded in the short staring contest first, timidly tugging on a loose strand of her bleached blonde hair as those feelings began to flare up inside of her again. She had instantly fallen into a reassured state of relaxation when she started to talk to Aro; like she knew everything was going to go well. She stood, slowly.

"Well...Sir. I do hope this does not become another job gone wrong. For both of our sakes." She tried giving him a stern, authoritative look, but the persistent redness of her cheeks ruined her weak facade. Yet again images of a highly sexual nature appeared vividly in her mind. Her hair tied back into a tight, high ponytail. Wearing nothing but a simple blacksmith's apron; tending to Aro's 'sword' whilst she squatted on her feet, down between his legs. She spun on her toes that made her cloak flare out with a rippling sound of fabric. Shaking her head again to disperse her fantasies she spoke up with a quiver in her melodic voice.

"I wished to set out tonight, but I am sure you would like to rest before we take our leave of Framton...I know I would like a few hours to meditate on Vernande's teachings. Meet you at the town gates by sunrise?" She offered her hand and looked at him with a content smile. In truth she wanted to stimulate her feelings she had suddenly begun to feel by getting another chance to hold his rough, manly hand.

Aro stood and moved over close to Trysh, the height difference significant. She would need to get onto the tips of her toes to even get at an equal eye level to him. Aro shook Tryshs' hand firmly. Even with a pretty Elf he did not want to show any form of weakness; he had made that mistake before and was met with a knife in his belly.

"Gates at sunrise, perfect. What room are you staying in? I'll be happy to check up on you every hour if you worry about anything..." His hand lingered on the delicate Elf, instinctively his thumb softly rubbed over her hand, like one would pet a small kitten.

Trysh swooned slightly, but quickly came back to her senses and quickly snatched her hand back and clutched it at her chest. "N-no that's quite alright, I want you well rested. I know that you humans tend to need a little more sleep than my kind."

Aro let his arm drop and nodded, scratching his stubble with embarrassment. In his youth, as with other human males when they reached puberty, had been told a simple rule when it came to Daughters of Vernande: Priestesses were never to be touched in more than a formal way. Doing so meant death. For both parties. The religion the Elves followed showed no mercy when it came to intimacies with men and women. Still, Aro still imagined what Trysh looked like under her baggy robes. If Elven prostitutes were anything to go by, she was built for pleasure.

"I'll let you take your leave then. Have a good rest Trysh." Aro gave a polite bow, as one should toward a priestess, and retreated back to his seat. The Elf replied a cute curtsey and left the area, moving toward the winding wooden stairs that lead to the rented rooms. Aro's eyes lingered on her, she stood out like a sore thumb, her white skin glowed with radiance, as did her silky blonde hair. She gave one last look at him with a polite smile before moving into a vacant room.

As the door shut behind her Trysh'alia sighed and pressed her back against the splintering wooden door. The room itself was small, and stank of old dust and grime. But after staying there for a few days she had become accustomed to it, in a way it was nice; the temple dorms were always so...sterile, and clean. Too clean.

Stepping forward, with her snub nosed white heels tapping along the creaky old wood she rose one hand up and snapped her fingers. Immediately the cloak fell from her, and hung up in the air, floating. Her robes had begun to unwrap themselves over her. Slowly her body revealed itself to the empty bedroom. With her cheeks still flushed a rose red with thoughts of her new companion, She looked down as her holy garment floated in the air beside the green cloak. The fabric shifted and spun, churning like a white cloud. The elf stepped out of her heels and ran her hands over her godlike body.

Like every other Elf, she was shaped incredibly. Legs long, thighs thick and naturally toned. Her ass large and soft to the touch. It bounced and swayed as she walked, and her silky blonde hair ticked her cheeks with its impressive length. Her hips were wide, perfect for birthing children, and usually swayed them with any kind of step; the natural way any modern Elf walked. Up her tightly muscled tummy were the bumps and curves of her skin wrapping around the soft muscle tissue that made it look like she regularly kept up with her physical fitness, even though she had never worked out a day in her life.

It was the same with the rest of her, with a tight back and toned arms, she looked perfect. Not ripped, and soft in all the right places. Her bust was large and also soft, yet retained the perkiness any man would desire. Her old friends at the temple measured her bust once, said she was something called a 36L, whatever that meant, all she knew was even for an Elf she was one stacked piece of ass.

Underneath her holy garment that had now magically twisted into a pink silk nightgown, she wore only a thin pair of black panties. Bras were alien to her, in fact, it was only within the last few months she had even learned of their existence. She found them very uncomfortable.

Trysh extended her tightly muscled arms back and allowed the pink silk evening gown to float over to her and wrap around her loosely. With a hot breath she walked to the bed, feeling the extremely pleasurable tingles her crotch sent through her. Her panties were soaked through, sticky, hot juice ran down her thick thighs and soiled her underwear so much a heavy dark patch spread across the entire front. A total mess of horny and lust for any half decent looking man, but yet her mind lingered on those rough hands, and handsome face. "Goddess Vernande give me strength to block these corrupting thoughts." she said with a plea.