Lost in the Light Ch. 12

"A small toast," he declared. "The first of many this night – To trust." He lifted his cup.

"To Trust," Riyarra agreed and clinked their cups together.

"I came to realize a few nights ago, as I lay awake trying to write my speech for yesterday," Tamain started as he carefully sipped from his cup. "That there are some very important differences between our two people. For example, we have darker skin." Riyarra snorted and rolled her eyes. Lysia scowled, his words had a special meaning to her. It reminded her of a conversation she was having at the exact time of his recollection. Had he been listening to them? "Words... Certain words have a different meaning for us." Tamain nodded sagely. "Certain fundamental differences might seem minor at first, but under certain conditions can grow, and exacerbate into colossal disparities."

Riyarra scowled. The blind Zek was showing off now.

"The word Trust," Tamain said and took a long serious drink from his cup. "When it involves two people, carries with it the same potency as your meaning for the word Love. Zecairins love easily, but we love shallowly, and not nearly as deeply as Elthairins as I have come to eavesdrop on..." he gestured around with his cup. "But trust... Trust is something we give out as sparingly, and as deeply as you Elthairins give out your love." He ended his epiphany. "So, to Trust!" He saluted with his cup.

"To trust," Riyarra said somewhat sheepishly. She was taken aback by the deepness of his first toast, but did that not also mean he just declared his love for her? She was a bit confused now. In the time since their first meeting, she had gotten to know Tamain a little better. And damn him to hell, if she wasn't starting to like him. He had this power over people, his charisma was unquestionable, and his ability to build relationships and friendships was impressive. Even Iala, that part of her that had not been won over in their combined demon-slaying, had warmed up to him throughout the day. Riyarra had asked her about him, to which she just shrugged and said he was one of the few Zeks with honor. Iala hated all Zeks.

"I came here to whine and complain and act the spoiled brat princess, and instead have had my heart melted." Riyarra grumbled. "Do you know any jokes?"

"Ask me again after a few more cups," Tamain smirked and winked. "Now that I have you under my spell, I wouldn't want to give up the advantage now would I?" he waggled his eyebrows in an obscene way. Lysia punched his shoulder.

"How did you win over Eola?" Riyarra inquired. "I thought they were solitary creatures. Skittish, flighty, and deathly afraid of us." Tamain chuckled to himself. Lysia leaned back, she was interested in hearing this as well. The way he had acted towards her during the meeting had made Lysia's heart skip a few beats. Had she not been his lover, she would have considered that his oath spoke of a deeper connection with the woman.

"First, I earned her trust by saving her life, and not pressing her into slavery." Tamain said, snorting at the last part. "Second, I offered her a permanent home with us with safety in numbers. Thirdly, I had to swear more than five times that I would protect her. Her fear of you was such that she quickly forgot the previous oaths."

"I must admit, she's rather nice to speak with." Riyarra said. "I always expected vicious, filthy creatures."

"Ah, those would be her daughters. Half-breed Harpais are called Harpys, They are much more animalistic. But her two newest daughters are quite lovely, and well mannered. She has twin girls that look to be about in their early twenties or so by elven standards. I don't know the Harpy maturation rate, but they look to be about the same age as my god-daughter, Pebbles."

"God-daughter??" Both Elthairin women almost jumped him at once. Tamain laughed.

"It is a practice I observed among the humans. A friend or relative of the father is chosen at the birth of a child to replace the parents should they meet an unfortunate end. I thought the practice could be of use to us, so we adopted it."

"Who is Pebble's father?" Lysia asked. Tamain looked sad and took a sip of his cup. Neither woman pressed the question amid his silence. "How about her mother?"

"She would be the only Zecairin women of childbearing age in our group that also looks as if she has had one." Tamain murmured while taking a sip. "But don't tell her I said that, she doesn't want newcomers to know." Lysia figured it out right away, and looked as if her cheeks were about to explode with giddiness. Riyarra arched an eyebrow at her.

"You'll meet her later." Lysia said waving her off. "She'll be the one that sashays her hips as she walks." Tamain choked on his wine fighting back a laugh.

"So I see. That must be her then." Riyarra smile and nodded. Lysia looked over her shoulder and saw the rest of The Discarded had arrived. She recognized all of them – Katral, Rollis, Pemmi, Gerick, Corella. All except for the young skinny girl that must be Pebbles.

"She's so young!" Lysia protested. "You're going to let her fight?" she asked incredulous.

"We cannot afford to shelter our children." Tamain said sadly. "We can only teach them to survive and watch over them as best we can."

Riyarra watched these newcomers approach, downed the rest of her wine, handed the cup to Tamain and moved to intercept. Tamain's words gave her a new perspective with which to look at these Zecairins. They truly were as dissimilar to the Zeks she knew as was possible. Their lot in life out here in the wilds had created a new people with their own ways and culture. Their hardships were plenty, and a friend was something they needed badly. She was going to welcome them into her heart openly, prejudices be damned. They were each other's future if any two people ever were.

The festivities began now that the missing guests had arrived. Dinner was served, wine flowed, and Gerick broke out his pan flute and began to play a few songs – somewhat decently. After the first few songs, and he was well warmed up, Corella and Pebbles donned some brightly colored shawls and danced to the music. It lacked the grace of most elven dances, and it was clear it was something else they had adopted from Mankind, but it was still beautiful to watch and entertained all those gathered. After the first song, each girl grabbed a male – Corella a happy looking blonde Elthairin with broad shoulders and Pebbles grabbed Faosen – and made them dance with them. Faosen was not much older than Pebbles and had clearly danced this before, so he provided a base rhythm for the curious, and awkward Brylen to follow. The song ended, the dancers bowed and curtsied, and the shawls were passed on with the instruction it was the males' turn to pick partners.

Brylen staggered back to the circle of his laughing comrades, singled out a short auburn-haired knight by the name of Alysi and pulled her out into the dance circle. Unfortunately, Gerick had stopped playing as Faosen was still turning around in circles uncertain who to ask. The two most logical choices had already danced, and neither Katral or Pemmi were anywhere near. His embarrassment and confusion was soon a source of mirth and laughter, as none of the Elthairin ladies nearby was going to come to his rescue, they were too engrossed in the enjoyment of his spectacle. He found his courage, approached the closest knight, a lovely looking tall woman with dark hair named Serhy, and was curtly refused. Which only added to the laughter.

Alysi couldn't stand it anymore, she pushed Brylen aside with a smile. Tapped poor Faosen on the shoulder and took his hand back out to the center of the circle. Brylen had since paired off with another women, a stocky looking warrioress with short blond hair named Yeali. Gerick started up his song, and the dance resumed.

"That poor boy," Iala laughed from her seat in her husband's lap. Twenyl had found a nice quiet spot at the fringe to sit and enjoy the sights without running the risk of having to be conversational. His wife had found him lightly snoozing already and had awoken him rather abruptly by sitting herself promptly in his lap and shoving a bit of boar into his mouth. She cut pieces of the cooked steak off with her knife, ate one bit, handed Twenyl another, and was content to enjoy the festivities from a distance.

"Just think love," She sighed and reached up to caress his weathered cheek. "If fate stays on our side, this could be the beginning to an end to the old hatreds. If our Riyarra can take the throne of Elthair, and Tamain's group the Patriarchy of Zecair... peace. Real peace. Final peace. Not this truce where we stab at each other from the shadows."

"Won't that be nice," he chuckled. "After what I have learned from Eola, Tamain's quest seems closer to being within reach than ours."

"Oh, don't ruin it for me." She scorned him playfully. "Let me enjoy the mood." She handed him another bite on the tip of her knife.

"Oh, no." He chuckled. "I did my part. I figured out how to win the Zecairin his throne. Now you figure out how to win Riyarra's."

"Who said I haven't?" Iala leaned up and kissed his chin. "We'll get Valel to betroth her. Surrender her to the crown and make sure no one sticks a knife in her, and contest her brother through the trials of purity by the Clerics."

"There is a lot of sway and favor required for that plan to work,"

"Shush you," she said somewhat giggly. "Don't ruin my dreams of being mother to the king."

"Oh-ho, now I see." Twenyl started playing with her ear. Casually stroking it lovingly. Iala seemed to drift off into thought for a moment, until his attentions finally worked its way through the wine in her head and she sighed contently.

"Can you imagine what it would be like to raise children in an age where fighting wasn't constant? An entire generation that could be scholars and artists. No more pressing a sword into a child's hand as soon as they can stand so they can follow you into battle."

"Hhmm." Twenyl said amused.

"I want to see what that's like," She sat up. Rolled over until she was hovering over him, and kissed her husband full on the lips. "Care to join me on that adventure?" she said as she bit her lower lip at him playfully.

"What?" he said incredulously. "You can't be serious."

"Oh?" she unbuttoned her vest a little. Twenyl straightened up.

"Oh my," He chuckled nervously. Iala leaned in and nibbled at his ear until he whimpered.

"I'm going to my tent..." she whispered, trailing off. She leaned in, kissing him fully on the lips one last time before standing up and walking off. Hardly one to deny the Knight Captain when she really wanted something, Twenyl rose slowly, stood up straight, and followed.

Riyarra had left the party at the designated time. The night had moved along quickly, and the hour had come when she had promised to change the guard, and so she left the party to find him. Before leaving, she had tapped the other replacements on the shoulders and made sure they were fit for duty. Only Alysi needed to be replaced, as she had apparently disappeared sometime during the festivities, rumored to have either left to sleep off too much wine or to entertain a lover. Riyarra could not blame her; some much needed relaxation and recreation was the point of this celebration. So instead she tapped Maern who seemed to have seen all he cared to of the Zecairins for the night. Riyarra didn't expect her knights to accept this union easily, so she was eager to grant requests when it became too uncomfortable. All in all, the night had been a wonderful success. Friends, wine, and dancing was something everyone seemed to need very much – on both sides.

She heard voices between the trees, and silenced her footsteps. Cautiously she crept forward between the trees relying on the moonlight to light her way. Had she a clearer head not swimming in wine, she might have thought to shroud herself in camouflage or give herself night vision.

"Ye olde gawds!" came the groan of a familiar voice. Riyarra crept closer, and in the darkness she saw three bodies engaged in amorous endeavors. She pressed herself to a tree and watched. The speaker, Fryak, was leaning against a tree, his trousers were down around his ankles and his hands held the red-haired head of the naked Pemmi as she swallowed his manhood. Her dark skin glistened in the light with perspiration and every so often she moaned against his flesh. This sight was enough to make the blood rush to Riyarra's cheeks, past her ears and back down to between her thighs. And yet, between Pemmi's legs lay Fryak's brother, Frell, and he had his own face buried into Pemmi's womanhood. Riyarra's breath caught in her throat and a familiar tingling surged through her body and down her spine. Her hand absently slid down her shirt to the belt line of her trousers.

Pemmi whimpered. Frell had found a sensitive spot, and his lips and tongue were pressing his advantage. The more she moaned, the more Fryak shuddered from the sensation of her voice vibrating trough his throbbing flesh. She gasped sharply, released his member from her lips, and set to stroking his wet flesh with both her hands.

"Oooh," she purred. "Carefully there, slowly." she coached Frell. The twins were young men of that adventurous age, but Riyarra had never thought of such a fast escalation to their mutual relationship-building. But then again, she herself had entertained a notion or two about these well-built young men. She bit her bottom lip and let her eyes drink in the bare chest of Fryak as his body tensed and his chiseled arms flexed against the tree trunk. As a man's sensation goes, Riyarra could read that his body was ready, and if Pemmi continued this would be a quick show.

The dark skinned Zecairin, however, read this as well and promptly broke off her attention to Fryak's cock. Riyarra was rewarded with a full view of his impressive manhood. Her legs pressed together, trying to rub away the yearning developing in her hot mound. A wetness started to trickle down her leg, and she carefully slid a hand inside her trousers to investigate. She shouldn't have been surprised to find herself dripping inside, but her body's reaction still surprised her. Old memories of another existence surfaced along with a particular craving for man flesh. She took a deep breath, pushed those thoughts deep down, and went back to watching the show.

Pemmi had stripped Frell of the rest of his clothing and was now about to mount him. She carefully position his hard cock at the entrance of her eagerly waiting pussy and slowly slid him inside with a long moan of approval.

"Now that's hardly fair now," Fryak protested. His own cock bouncing in the air as he flexed it. He taunted her with it as she looked back at him with a lick of her lips. "Why is he first? Here I am ready to burst as it is." Pemmi hooked a finger at him, beckoning him forward. Fryak approached her from behind and knelt, they kissed, their tongues dancing in the open air.

"I promised I would take care of both of you together," she cooed at him. Frell Thrust up into her, spreading her with his hard cock, and causing a brief squeal of pleasure. She bit her bottom lip as a sudden convulsion worked through her body before leaning forward to press her breasts into Frell's face. With one hand she spread her ass cheeks apart, and with the other she reached back and grabbed hold of Fryak's raging hardon. Slowly, she pulled him forward, aiming the head of his cock towards her anus. When he figured out her solution, it confused him at first, but not one to be left behind by his brother he took a hold of her hips and pressed his cock inside.

"Slowly," she groaned, and Fryak complied. His wet cock gently penetrated her dark hole, and he moaned in pleasured at the tightness gripping his cock. Frell had begun feasting on her nipples, sucking on one, then the other, and alternating as it suited him. His cock was content to be buried deep inside her warm, dripping cunt. And he was content ravishing her pert, athletic breasts. Fryak on the other hand, had fully embedded his throbbing member deep inside her ass, and had begun to slowly pull out and push back in. Frell could feel the added pressure and motion on his cock and started thrusting his own member in alternation with his brother's.

"Ahh!" Pemmi moaned again and again with each thrust as they fucked her simultaneously. Her cries of passion grew louder and more incoherent as the extreme pleasure of having both men inside her at the same time overwhelmed her brain. She slumped forward, barely able to prop herself up on her elbows, and smothered Frell with her breasts. The young man was all too eager to suffocate in her cleavage, but wasn't going to stop fucking her wet pussy just on account of needing to breathe.

"I'll say it again!" Frayk exclaimed as his pace quickened and his hips slapped against her curved ass, slamming his cock deep inside her. "Ye olde gawds!"

Riyarra's own womanhood started to ache in a sympathetic need for release. While engrossed in the show one of her hands had slid under her waistline and was well drenched in her warm wet mound. First one finger, then two found their way inside her. She was forced to bury her face into her arm to keep silent despite the need to call out passionately. It had only been less than a week since she could last remember the feel of a man's hard cock. But those memories were hard to recall, and she found herself unexpectedly yearning to make new memories.

Pemmi moaned loudly, and Riyarra dared to look up. Frayk had lifted up on one leg, changing his angle of penetration to slightly off center, and in doing so brought her to new heights of ecstasy. His brother Frell, not to be outdone, pinched both of her nipples between his fingertips and pulled her down to him until their mouths met wantonly. She moaned as their tongues danced, and his hands changed to cup her breasts and knead them together.

"Give it to me! Please!" she begged them and held Frell's head in her hands as her tongue dove in to entwine with his again. Frayk, now outdone, rose to the challenge by shifting his weight onto both legs, leaned forward and took one of her long ears between his teeth. He held it between them and ran his tongue over the top ridge, before sucking the tip deep into his mouth.

Instantly, Pemmi peaked. Her body locked up, overloaded with the creative application of pleasure by these two young brothers. Her back arched, pressing her feverish skin into Frayk's sweat covered chest, and pulling her lips away from Frell with a load gasp of air and pleasure. Frell came next, groaning as his hot cum started to spurt and fill her convulsing pussy. Pemmi slammed her hips down on him, burying his thick cock inside her as it continued to erupt and coat the back of insides. Frayk, came a second later, pulling free with a wet plop as he involuntarily arched backwards, spurting his sticky seed all over her dark backside. His dark skinned loved gyrated her hips in the air in appreciation. He collapsed forward on top of her a moment later, and with some acrobatic twisting, she leaned back to kiss him deeply.

By shear will Riyarra stopped, took a steadying breath, and left the young lovers to their pleasure. Panting, red faced, and embarrassed, she reminded herself that it would not be right to intrude, eavesdrop, or condemn them as she had been the one to encourage cross-cultural exchanges, and Zecairins were quite insatiable. It would be best if she pushed it out of her mind and let them have their fun. She had had enough of Zecairin lusts to last her awhile. But these latent desires were bothersome nonetheless.

Brylen sat aloof from the others. His chiseled shoulders kept flexing and relaxing, a nervous habit he had developed when his mind was ill at ease. A cool night breeze played through his short blond hair and tousled it softly. He grumbled irritably and brushed a stray lock out of his eyes. At his queen's command he had participated in this... meeting, but he was finding it harder and harder to tolerate the presence of the boisterous and flirtatious shadow elves. The more he watched the junior knights embrace the merriment the more it ate at his nerves. His fists clenched and relaxed again and the leather of his fingerless gloves creaked from the strain. Footsteps behind him told of someone coming. He looked over his shoulder ready to snap at being pestered yet again to rejoin the drinking and storytelling. But it wasn't one of the junior recruits. It was the young Zecairin girl. The instinctual, aggravated look he gave her made her freeze in her tracks. She pulled her long black hair over an ear and met his scowling glare with an innocence that immediately made him feel embarrassed for it.