Lost in the Light Ch. 12

"Never again," He promised. Somehow her forgiveness and her affection towards him reinforced his wilting spine. She looked up at him, and finally he could meet her gaze, and the man he was had returned. This time without the burdens of rank or the privilege of honor, this time it was just as Valel. Valel kissed Riyarra.

Lost in the moment, they ignored duty and vigilance and answered the call they had both been hiding from for so long. Her breath caught in her throat from the exciting forwardness of his unrestrained passion, and she hurriedly struggled to free his hands from the vines. Without the magic of their summoner to sustain them, they broke away easily. Yet Riyarra had to break away from his breathless embrace long enough to see what she was doing in order to free him. Valel breathed in her smell from her neck as she was forced to press herself against him. He abided the distraction by placing soft kisses across her throat which she didn't want to stop. So when she had both hands freed, she stayed pressed to him, and allowed his hands to embrace her. They cradling her back and shoulders as his lips explored the smooth skin of her neck.

Riyarra moaned for more. This was what she had been missing for so long – a true lover's touch. Not the frantic mauling of an inexperienced male in heat, or the clumsy abuse of an overly excited sadist. No, this beautifully, naturally flowing music of the senses was what her body, heart, and soul wanted and missed for so long. As her maestro played her body as an instrument, she sighed and moaned making the music he commanded with his touch. The buttons of her vest came free as her own hands had taken to shedding her clothing while her mind was entranced. The garment was tossed into the night air to fall many feet below, forgotten and discarded. His fingertips caressed the curves of her back and spine, pressing against her toned body and pulling her warm flesh against his chiseled torso. She cradled his head to her collarbone as his lips ventured south. Her back arched as he went, and her breath escaped her more than once when his gentle, sensual ministrations took control of her senses. Her hands had found the back of his head, and she held it to her bosom as he ventured over her warm womanly mounds planting kisses over her flesh. His whole body moved forward, and he laid her back down on the thick branch, forcing her to brace herself by wrapping her legs around his waist, and grab the branch above her head with her hands. This pulled her hips against him and she felt the bulge in his open trousers press against her wet mound through the fabric. It sent a shudder through her body and a moan of delight escaped her lips.

"More, my love," she breathed helplessly as his lips circled one of her aroused nipples and gently brushed his lips over it. He kissed it. Breathed hotly over it. Suckled it gently. Then pinched it between his teeth and pulled ever so slightly. She twisted underneath him, trying to press more of her body into this skilled lips. When she could take no more of his teasing, she grabbed him by the ears, pulled his face forward and ravaged his lips with her own. He fumbled with her trousers, but managed to send both hers and his careening off into the forest floor far below.

"Would you join with me, my love," She breathed into his ear. This gave him pause, and he lifted up to look her in the eyes to confirm her desire. What she asked was the most intimate of mating practices reserved for only the truly committed and compatible. She stroked his cheek with the back of her hand as they searched one another. "With this little bit of darkness you have endured, you will come to know more of me. No one else could do so and understand who I am. You are the one I want." she said lovingly.

"I will, my love," he answered at last. "I could find no better mirror for my own hopes and dreams, for ourselves, our people, and the world than in you. I will help carry this burden of yours, and I ask that you lend me your strength and wisdom." He touched her forehead and sent out his mental presence into her. Their minds and their souls joined through magic for but a brief moment before she pushed him out and away. Valel pulled away confused. Riyarra kissed him, pushed him backwards with her hands upon his chest until he was sitting back up against the tree. Slowly she closed her eyes, and a multicolored glow began to emanated behind her. Blues, greens, pinks and purples began to dance over the tree branches. It cast its glow over the leaves and temporarily blinded Valel as his eyes had to adjust to the bright light. When he could finally see, he was speechless and dumfounded.

Four gossamer wings unfolded behind Riyarra. She held her hands to her chest in some form of modesty despite revealing the most secretive and intimate aspect of herself. Valel watched as the color moved in waves as it flowed from her back where it started out a bright pink, turned to a rich purple, then deep blue, and finally a vibrant green at the tips.

"Wings?" He asked confused as he tried to fathom what they meant. "But I don't have wings."

"Of course not," she scolded him playfully and pushed him back against the tree as she kissed him delicately. "You're a boy."

Valel chuckled. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but the beauty of it filled him with joy. Riyarra brought his head to hers, and touched him. Their minds joined, their souls entwined in the sea of consciousness, and she allowed him back inside her being. Memories of old were available for the sharing; past loves, past pains, hardships and personal rewards all flowed freely. It was a lot to take in all at once, but a lifetime could be shared in a brief moment from such intimate joining.

Valel felt her touch his member with her fingertips, stroke it softly, position it at the entrance to her womanhood, and slowly lower herself into his lap until he was buried deep within her warm flesh. Her hands wrapped around his strong, muscled torso, her head laid against his shoulder, and slowly her hips rocked against him, sliding his hard cock between her wet and wanting pussy. Valel gripped the branch with his thighs to give him leverage to meet her rhythmic gyration with his own upward thrusts. Strong hands grabbed the bottom of her thighs and supported her as he took over command of their passionate movements.

Riyarra's head fell to his shoulder as his forceful thrusting deep inside her took her breath away and most of her control with it. Her hands managed to wrap around his strong shoulders and neck, and gently caressed them. The arousal within her built to such a feverish pace that with each fulfilling thrust of his wonderful manhood she moaned out in ecstasy despite herself.

Valel's presence inside her mind accepted the evils she had endured in Zecair, the embarrassing lasciviousness of her escape, and even her love for the human that had freed her. In this kind, judgment-less acceptance she found the solace she so badly needed. In Valel she found the kind soul, who was quick to act in moments of certainty without grudge, but who yearned for a better understanding of all that he knew he did not yet understand. He held a reserved humility at his own shortcomings, and a desire to overcome them. His idealism meshed serenely with his realism, and it gave her the balancing she needed amidst her inner turmoil. In Riyarra, Valel found the appreciation for his mundaneness, his quiet spirituality, gentility, chivalry, and a deeper measure of his own undiscovered worth compared to the unexplored world that she knew and he did not.

There was a sudden surge of sexual energy between them. Riyarra gasped as her womb was flooded with Valel's warm wet seed. As he came, and their shared consciousness continued, her own climax was triggered, and her pussy convulsed around his cock, milking him for all his fulfilling cum. Her body trembled against him as she rode the waves of her own orgasm and allowed her mind to abandon all other sensations and enjoy it. His wonderfully hard cock drove deeper and deeper inside her with each passing spurt, pressing the thick head against the back of her womb and coating it with the last of his thick cum. When at last he was spent, she convulsed yet again as a second orgasm flooded her mind with waves of immense pleasure.

There was a sharp copper tang in her mouth. It pulled their thoughts apart and each struggled to regain their own being. Valel was trying to hide the sharp pain in his shoulder, and to her sheepish dismay she discovered the love bite she had left on his shoulder during the culmination of their love making. She held him tightly, licked the trickles of blood she had caused and sighed contently against his warm body.

Valel caught his breath. Wide eyed, and wild eyed as the realization of what had just happened finally hit him. All he had experienced in both their lovemaking and soul sharing was starting to settle in. There was a meager regret of having lost their clothes to gravity, and one of his blades as well. But in their joining there was no regret. As he came to understand more of the world through the eyes of his soul's mate, he accepted that fate could take them at any moment, and to deny their hearts desire out of prudence or regulation would risk never knowing it. Dereliction of duty be damned.

Red! He thought wistfully. The tips of her wings now ended in a shade of red. Part of him made a mental note to ask his father about the wings of Elthairin princesses. But the moment he thought it, a million other parts of him shouted at him not to bring it up. Riyarra nestled in against his chest, her head tucked in right under his chin, and there she stayed contently, naked in the night air.

The night celebration went on into the late hours. Most of the light elves had turned in, or had sought other activities. A handful, those most interested in their new allies, had stayed to chat. With the changing of the night watch, new faces showed up, and older ones retired. And so the same tale of his harrowing encounter with the demon spawn was told again to a new audience. Each time he worked on perfecting the telling, making it seem more of a struggle than it was, but he was always fair in giving credit to those that had assisted him. Especially to the Knight Captain and her son. That seemed to be the cause of his admirers – that he was willing to share in the glory.

Lysia sat on the ground against the log Tamain sat upon. Sometime during the night she had fallen off from too much wine and decided the ground was more stable. Her seat beside Tamain had changed over as his audience grew until Eola made her appearance. This caused some of the Elthairins to leave, turning in for the night, and some to gather in, wanting to learn more about this other exotic person. Eola was equally as uncomfortable around the light elves as they were around her.

However, when she sat down beside Tamain, and took his arm in a ladylike fashion. Eyebrows arched, scowled, and furrowed as to the meaning of this display of affection...with drunken Lysia right there at his feet. Tamain seemed not to mind it, but Lysia became all the more clingy to his leg with the Harpai's presence. Tamain consoled her by twirling his fingers through her brown hair right behind the ear, sneaking in a playful caress when he thought no one was looking. Lysia unfortunately, cooed each time, which drew attention and he declined to continue.

"How is it you can act so ladylike, when you live out here like an animal?" Asked Ranyen, a young elven scout with a sharp mind that he unfortunately often bludgeoned people with. Eola released Tamain's arm and folded her hands demurely in her lap. She was about to speak before Tamain beat her to it.

"Living in the wild is a challenge. You either become part of it, or you spend all your days fighting against it." Tamain said. Eola gave him a sideways glance. Katral lifted up from her mate's lap and whispered something in Ut'van's ear. To which he had a hard time hiding his laughter.

"I heard that," Tamain snorted.

"You hear everything, you creep." Katral retorted and stuck her tongue out at him.

"I heard that too!" Tamain retorted back. "You know what they say about loose tongues?" He waggled his eyebrows in her general direction. Many of the men snickered at her.

"They make a good soup?" Eola asked innocently. Which the Zecairins found extremely funny, and even a few Elthairins winced in disgust to quickly hide their smiles.

"Since my manners left me many cups ago," Ranyen continued, leveling his inebriated stare at Eola's amble bosom. "Why do you eat people, and not animals?"

"Ahh," She said, and quickly slapped a hand over Tamain's mouth before he could defend her honor. "That is a very good question." she was almost grinning. Eola leaned down, propping herself up on her knees, and almost dared him to look at her profound cleavage which Ranyen couldn't resist, at which time she opened her maw and flashed him a wide grin of sharp pointy teeth. He spooked, shouted something in Elthairin, and scooted backwards. "Do you know what happens to your soul when you die?" She asked.

"You? No. We? We join the Great Spirit." Ranyen said safely out of snapping range. He went to finish his cup, found it empty, and cursed to himself. La'lian, a fellow scout, handed him the rest of hers, as she decided to be done drinking for the night.

"Before that," Eola began, sitting upright and proper, even pausing to smooth some of her dress feathers. "Your soul stays around your body. It lingers there until your body is no more. When there is naught but bones left, then there is nothing tying your soul to this world and you ascend to the beyond. My kind... we help that process along." She smoothed the wing tip that hid her leg and massaged her calf underneath it. "If a soul lingers too long, the weight of its life can drive it mad."

"Wraiths?" Tamain looked up with startled realization. Eola nodded, but realized he still could not see such simple actions.

"Correct," She said. There was a hushed murmur as the rest of them made the connection. "Once we had a sacred duty, and we were welcomed by all the races. We were the Death Eaters, the Sin Eaters, or the Winged Angels of Death... many races had their own names for us. But then we got caught up in a war... now there are not many of us left."

"To what purpose?" Ranyen scowled. But the rest of her story suddenly made him very uncomfortable. "Disposing of battlefield corpses?"

"Elthairins had discovered Resurrection." She finally said. All of the Elthairins grew quiet with disbelief. "And so we were used to stop them."

"Ye gods..." Ranyen breathed, speechless. His mouth hung open and he started to speak with uncertain squeaking noises, but his mind couldn't decide what to say.

"Fuck me," Ut'van breathed, equally flabbergasted. "No wonder they hated you." Katral slapped him upside the head.

"We were hunted." Eola said breathlessly. "To extinction... I..." she took a deep steadying breath, swallowed her painful past and her fears so she could continue. "I've lost many friends and children to Elthairin arrows over the centuries. The poisoned arrows kill too quickly to cure, and we are never given a chance to flee." she said, darkly bitter. An uncomfortable silence fell over the group. No one dared speak after that. Those Elthairins present were clearly shamed by their shared history.

"It used to be a beautiful ceremony," Eola said wistfully. The anger, fear, and grief over the past was eventually replaced with fond remembrance. "Kin surround you. Wish you well, make their apologies they did not have time for, some might even confess an unspoken love." She smiled longingly off into the distance. "Then they would leave, lock me inside with the deceased. I would take care to clean the bones properly so they could be laid to rest peacefully. When I finished, I would knock thrice, the door would open, and as I left the wishers would lay a hand on me as if to say Thank You without a word before they tended to what remained." The mood had turned somber, and most gathered were looking at their cups or at the ground. Lysia rolled over, hugged onto Eola's leg for support and said rather drunkenly.

"You have my permission to eat me." She managed with some grace. Laughter returned with some uncertainty. Even Ranyen stood and lifted his cup.

"With the alternative being that I might drive myself mad with all that I've done and be forced to walk the earth forever as a Wraith? Aye! My Lady, please eat me too!" He toasted with a sarcastic laugh. Slowly one by one the few other Elthairins humorously raised their cups.

"Eat me!" they laughed.

"Eat me good!" they chuckled.

"Eat me down to the last drop." Their lewd joke now apparent. Eola's sad expression turned to indignation and she crossed her arms over her chest in a huff.

"Harump!" she mocked them. "I have standards!"

Tamain smiled softly, as only he could hear the barely contained whimpers of sad joy hidden behind that curtain of indignation.

Forgiveness. It was about bloody time we got it started.

Author's Note: As always, all comments and critiques are welcome and appreciated. And yes, this chapter is the calm before the storm... >:)