Hall of the Elf Lord

"The swans serve the gods," Idalia replied, stroking his cock, "And they serve me."

"Perhaps," Vesian mused, his chest still rising and falling quickly. "But I came in search of a woman."

"And you found one," murmured the nymph. "For is there any woman as much a woman as I am?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not. But I have known many women throughout the realm and you fuck like no other."

"You are too kind," Idalia purred, her fair cheeks turning red. Vesian smiled a crooked smile. Despite eagerly allowing a strange man to mount her in the bath, the nymph still blushes at common flattery, he thought to himself. A strange creature indeed.

"But no, I did not come in search of you, glad as I am to have found you. I came looking for a damsel carried off into the wood on the back of her horse."

Idalia sat up and brushed her golden hair over her shoulder. "Hm," she grunted in disinterest, avoiding his gaze. Laying on his back, Vesian looked up to her and took his abandoned cock in one hand. He hoped she might continue her pleasuring, but the nymph had cooled toward him, her eyes wandering toward the far side of her glade to settle on a stand of fruit trees.

She stood up, her long bare legs cutting a trail through the grass to where the boughs hung heavy with fruit. Still ignoring his stare, she plucked an armful of the ripe red fruit and carried them back to him. Idalia knelt beside him, the succulent fruit glistening in her arms. Vesian felt himself lick his lips unconsciously and he suddenly realized that he was quite hungry.

Yet as he looked at them, peasant tales sprang to his mind. They told of wanderers lost in the forest who were persuaded to eat strange fruits only to find that they became ensorcelled. Some never wanted to leave the forest thereafter, while others were transformed into wild beasts. Vesian felt himself raise a skeptical eyebrow as he surveyed the offerings.

Idalia seemed to read his mind. An amused smile split her pretty face.

"They pose no danger," she laughed. "Though would be trapped here forever with me be such a terrible fate?"

Vesian shrugged. "No, but I did to promise to get the damsel back."

The nymph sighed. "Eat, and we will speak of your damsel." She held out one of the fruits to Vesian and he took it. Biting into it, he found it was sweet and juicy, like a ripe peach but more so. Vesian moaned in wonderment, but also because the nymph laid a hand on his cock and kissed his cheek.

"Tell me of this damsel," she said, lying down beside him. As Vesian opened his mouth, the nymph closed her hand around his cock and began to stroke.

"The Lady Isabelle," he began, gasping as her delicate hands worked his cock, sending shivers along his spine again. "She and her servants were out riding when they heard a strange flute on the wind. Her horse bolted into the wood and carried her off in the saddle."

"And you promised to bring her back," Idalia mused. "A pity."

"Why's that?"

"I know this fluting," she said, her hands working faster on his cock. "It is the work of the elf lord Saimdol. He has taken your lady for himself and will be loath to let her go until he has had his fun."

"Is there anything he wants?" Vesian asked. The thought of dealing with an elf lord frightened him, but his honor as a Knight of the Griffon was indispensable and in any case he could not leave Lady Isabelle behind.

"Who might know the mind of an elf lord? I do not tread the same paths as he, though he sometimes comes to my glade to fuck."

"Well, I must find some way to persuade him. Can you show me to him?"

"So soon?" she pouted, still stroking his cock. "Must this lord take all my fun?"

She sat up, her beautiful breasts trembling as she did. The nymph swung a leg over his hips to straddle him, stroking his cock in front of her as she looked down into his eyes. Vesian felt his heart quicken.

"I suppose I could stay a while longer," he managed, and Idalia smiled. Raising herself up, she settled herself onto his cock. He slid inside her up to the base and Idalia began to ride. Her perfectly round breasts heaved up and down on her taut chest and Vesian grabbed them in both hands. She lifted herself up on his cock, a slick lance penetrating her warm, pink sex, and dropped down again with a lusty slap against his hips.

"Kiss me," he begged, desiring to feel her against every part of him. She bent to kiss him and Vesian wrapped her up in his arms, pressing her hot body against him as she rode his cock. They moaned in the grass together, and Vesian clawed at her with his hands, caressing and clutching her soft, innocent flesh with the worn hands of a knight errant. She opened her eyes and stared at him, her blue orbs shining with delight and her mouth stretched open in a teasing, crooked smile.

His lust for her had built up to something terrible inside him, and now Vesian could contain himself no more. He rolled her over onto her back and propped himself up on his hands, drawing his cock almost all the way out of her purse before slamming himself back inside. He grasped her breasts in his hands, squeezing with a fury he had never known before. Idalia giggled with delight, her little frame shaking with each voracious thrust into her.

It was not enough. He desired not just to fuck her, but to have her, to dominate her beautiful body and make her scream his name. His hands climbed her naked chest to wrap around her throat, his thumbs digging red into her neck. The nymph gritted her teeth, sinking her own fingernails into his back.

"Fuck me," she snarled, her eyes narrowing as he did just that. His cock throbbed for her, aching to come inside her, but he could not let the moment end yet. He wanted it to never end. Given the choice, he would stay here, fucking the impossibly gorgeous nymph until the end of time.

But he could not. He was about to come, he knew. Idalia's pretty face was reddening as he strangled her, her narrowed eyes staring furious lust up at him as he perfect round breasts heaved under his assault. He tried to keep his seed inside him, but the effort was fast overwhelming him.

He groaned with pained exertion and at last he could last no longer. Releasing her delicate throat, he pulled his cock from her nethers and spurted a line of cum up her flawless chest and into her eyes. His hot, sticky load landed in a long streak from her rosy nipples to her sapphire eyes and he came again. And again. He came until he thought he might collapse, covering her pale flesh in more cum than he had ever seen before, even in Chateau Valeur when he and four other squires had snuck a slutty serving wench into their barracks.

He knelt in the grass, panting and heaving as he stared down at his handiwork. Idalia stretched out on her back, her legs shaking.

"That was wonderful," she murmured. "Won't you lay with me a while longer?"

Vesian sighed. He sat beside her, his cock hanging down between his legs.

"I must be going. Can you tell me the way to the lord's hall?"

Idalia rolled over onto her stomach and set her lower lip in a pout. A milky droplet of cum hung from her red lip and stretched toward the grass. Vesian watched it, his breathing at last slowing until it broke free and dropped to the earth. Idalia did not reply. With a sigh, he stood up and waded into the pond.

Pouring handfuls of cold, clear water over himself, he watched Idalia in the grass with a wry, amused smile on his face. She stared back longingly, her blue eyes watching his every move. When he emerged, dripping wet and glistening in the sunlight, she sat up, her breasts still wet with his cum. He began to dress himself, and the nymph finally stood up and came to his side.

"You really mean to leave?" she asked sadly, and Vesian could only nod.

"I am a knight errant, and I made a promise to save the lady. Perhaps fate will draw me back here someday, but for now I must go."

"Very well," she sighed. "The hall of Lord Saimdol lies that way," she said, extending a pale arm and delicate finger toward one edge of the grove. "Not far through those trees you will find a clear brook. Follow it upstream until you come to his glade. Though I will warn you, to an elf lord, you mortals are nothing but amusement and a means to an end. Trust not his hospitality."

"He is not like you?" Vesian teased, reaching out to goose her lovely ass. She yelped in surprise, her frown momentarily giving way to a smile. She slapped his hand away, but bit her lower lip as she studied him, naked from the waist up and still wet. But her smile soon vanished.

"No," she said, her grave tone returning. "He is capricious and sometimes cruel, a lord with worldly pursuits and little care for the simple pleasures of my glade. He has taken this lady and will require you to pay a price to free her. Be careful, and do not enter into any agreement with him without due consideration."

"I will be careful," Vesian promised. "I thank you for your words of advice."

"Mortals are nothing more than amusement to the fae," she reminded him again, "now go, before I ensorcel you to stay forever."

She turned away from him and waded into her pool. Where before it had only risen to her knees, Vesian now watched it swallow her up to her waist, then her shoulders, until the water rose up above her head and she vanished into the bubbling surface beneath her waterfall.

He stood staring at the spot where she had disappeared for a moment, considering whether to stay, then pulled his surcoat over his head and belted on his sword. With a deep breath, he set out from the grove in the direction she had pointed.

---

He again walked through the forest for what seemed like hours, but now the forest seemed to be growing darker. Where he could glimpse the sky through the boughs, it had taken on a reddish tint and the rays of sunshine lancing down grew dimmer. Vesian forged onward, following the brook upstream with the determination of a man with no other choice.

The nymph's words rang in his mind. Mortals are nothing more than amusement to the fae, she said. What does that make me? he wondered. As the brook stretched ever on and on before him, he wondered if perhaps he should have stayed in her glade. He began to think he might never reach its source. Perhaps it was even an enchanted brook that ran in a circle and he was even now treading over his own footsteps from before. In the deepening twilight, it would be easier to miss his tracks, assuming that the forest had not overgrown them in his wake.

His dark thoughts were interrupted by a sudden distant howling. He stopped and drew his sword. Cocking an ear to the wind, he waited in silence. The howling came again, this time much closer. In the direction of the howling, a thicket rustled. Vesian set his jaw and steadied his blade.

There came a third howl, this time followed by the baying of wolves. Big wolves, from the sound of it, and something thrashing its way through the brush.

Vesian stopped, the shaking of the thicket intensifying, and extended the point of his sword forward, hoping that he might spear whatever it was that came surging forward. The wolves snared, jaws clashed, and the thicket burst open to reveal... Thibault.

The squire flailed about as he tore free of the brush at last, getting tangled up in his own legs as he toppled to the ground at Vesian's feet. His surcoat was torn and prickled with thorns, the paint of his shield scuffed, and his helm scratched all over. But he bolted to his feet again and his sword flashed into his hand.

His eyes met Vesian's and Thibault stopped.

"There you are!" he gasped. "I lost sight of you for the briefest of moments, and then those damned wolves set upon me! I knew this forest would be the death of us! Damned wolves, the size of a horse!"

"Get beside me," Vesian urged, and they each brought up their shields to form a short shield wall, their swordpoints concealed behind them. Before them the thicket shook furiously and Thibault's pursuers snarled with ferocious malice. The branches strained in the air above, and Vesian heard a wolf yelp. It cried out again, then another joined it.

"They're caught," Thibault muttered. "Serves them right, I had to fight through that accursed thicket, so should they."

"I don't think that they are," Vesian replied. "They're retreating."

The thicket had stopped its shaking and the growls of the wolves grew fainter but it was still some time before they dared lower their shields and sheathe their swords.

"I thought I was a dead man," Thibault breathed at last. He turned to Vesian and punched him in the shoulder. "Where did you go?! Didn't you hear me calling for you?!"

"No!" Vesian protested. "I took one step into the forest and turned around, but there was nothing there but trees. I've been wandering these woods for what seems like days! I've covered miles, run from a monster the size of a mountain, seen a scarlet swan..."

He decided it was best not to mention his tryst with a nymph to a man who had narrowly avoided being eaten by giant wolves. Thibault could be so envious.

"Well, aren't you lucky indeed," Thibault grumbled.

"You have no idea," Vesian mused.

"What do you mean?" the squire asked suspiciously.

"I've spoken with the fae," Vesian replied hastily. "This brook will lead us to the hall of the elf lord who has taken Lady Isabelle."

"An elf lord?" Thibault muttered. "Well, doesn't this just keep on improving for us... Lead on, I suppose."

With a shrug, Vesian sheathed his sword and continued upstream. He was pleased to have his loyal squire and friend once again at his side, for the dangers of the forest seemed legion even when armed with the nymph's advice. Thibault for his part was on alert, his gaze sweeping the nearby brush and tree canopy alike in a constant, paranoid search for threats. As they walked, Vesian began to realize that Thibault was newer to the forest than he was. While he had spent what seemed like days wandering the forest, and fucking Idalia, Thibault seemed to have just stumbled in.

Again, he remembered a peasant's tale, this time of a boy who stumbled into the forest and reemerged mere moments later as a withered old man who had promptly slumped dead to the ground, laid low by age. This forest was a perilous place. Will we even be able to return home once we find Lady Isabelle? he wondered. But he could only shake his head, for the strange magic of the forest defied all mortal comprehension. Slowly, he began to get the feeling that they were being watched and then his silent musing was interrupted by a distant fluting that stopped him cold in his tracks.

For all his anxious vigilance, Thibault ran right into his back without realizing. The eerie tones chilled him to his very core and sorcery touched his mind, he knew. His mind swam with strange thoughts and voices that he could not shut out. He felt himself moving again, heading for a clearing that seemed to emerge from the forest.

The trees thinned out to reveal a twilight glade before a towering outcropping of gray rock crowned with the most massive oak that Vesian had ever seen. It soared up into the already impossibly high forest canopy, spreading its branches over an area large enough to cover a castle's bailey. In the glade before it, horses roamed unattended, their shapes somehow more slender and yet also more powerful than that those of the horses he had come to know. His feet moved unbidden toward the outcropping, where his eyes made out a cave entrance splitting its face.

Here the fluting grew louder and more insistent, and Vesian's pace picked up to match. Behind him, he could hear Thibault following close behind. What had once been a small cave entrance seemed to grow wider as he neared, until it was a vast black mouth waiting to swallow him up in its umbral depths. Passing through its mouth, he glanced upward to catch a glimpse of elven eyes glittering down at him from the rocky ridge above.

Inside he found a smooth stone path that curved down into the cave's depths. The fluting was louder here and joined by other instruments as well. An ethereal harp and jaunty lute combined for a strange melody that set Vesian's nerve on edge. He wondered if Thibault was similarly uneasy, but could not bring himself to look over his shoulder. Instead, he marched down the sloping ramp under strange, glowing lights until it debouched into a wide cavern and he stopped to stare in awe.

He had emerged from an archway of living wood so finely shaped that it must have been carved, though it showed no sign of a knife's touch. From the archway, the stone ceiling soared a hundred feet over his head in a great dome, pierced in its center by the roots of the enormous oak above, and in several other places by great shafts of light that lanced down into the cavern. Straight ahead of him, a spiraling walkway of living wood climbed from the tiled floor of the hall to a throne in the tree's roots, currently occupied by an imperious elf lord who held a staff in one hand and a crystal orb in the other. His glittering blue eyes stared across the cavern at Vesian, who detected the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

But Vesian's eyes were soon torn away, for between himself and the elf lord stretched two hundred feet of cavern, occupied by lavish furnishings, bathing pools fed by waterfalls cascading down from the roof, and an ongoing orgy the likes of which he had never seen. Dozens of naked men and women—elven and mortal alike—were cavorting on overstuffed silken couches, in the bathing pools, and on the bare stone floor. Moans, kisses, and the rhythmic slap of flesh on bare flesh echoed about the room, all to the accompaniment of music that ushered forth from somewhere in the darkened depths of the hall behind the throne.

Vesian heard Thibault gasp behind him, and felt his cock hardening beneath his mail, but his gaze went not to the squire. Instead, it settled on a lone figure dancing nude before the base of the lord's stair. A slender young woman, with long raven hair that reached to her wasp-like waist when it was not flowing in the air behind her as she danced. Even from here, Vesian knew that her eyes were green. He stepped through the archway and strode unerringly down the red marble path that connected the hall's entrance to the lord's throne.

The elf watched his approach with heightening amusement. Vesian's mind ran back to the nymph's parting words. Nothing more than amusement and a means to an end, he remembered. He looked around at the naked bodies entwined in the cavern's pale light and shook his head slightly. Amusement indeed.

Lady Isabelle caught sight of him as he neared. She was beautiful, he realized. He had never had much trouble imagining why the elf lord had abducted her, but seeing her dancing naked in the twilight hall removed all doubt from his mind.

Her green eyes flashed with something like recognition, but she did not stop her dance. Her long raven hair swirled about her as she spun and Vesian felt his breath catch in his chest. He stopped within two arms' lengths of her, staring mutely at her. She was smiling, but he knew from her eyes that she was as much a prisoner here as he was.

Vesian tried to speak, to call out to her, but the insistent music in his ears still his tongue. Instead, his gaze was pulled up toward the elf on the throne who stared back at him with eyes of arrogant amusement.

From the roots beneath the throne emerged a herald, clad in forest green and pearled finery. He stepped onto a platform just above Vesian's head, his pale hands clutching a gnarled staff. Three times he banged it against the stone and then he called "Who comes before my master? Speak your name and your purpose, mortal."

Vesian felt the spell's grasp on his mind loosen and worked his tongue for a few sputtering moments before he could speak clearly again.