Lovers' Veil

The changeling's gleaming bruise-colored eyes, dull with shock, widened. Though he must have been weakened, likely dying, from the negligible wound the iron sword had inflicted, Leurre grabbed King Oakenmace and a crystal sword from an elf. Holding the King before him, the changeling crossed King Oakenmace's throat with the honed edge of the weapon.

"Back away or I kill him," Leurre whispered.

Leofrick held his ground, listening to the sounds of the struggling Ve'reor in the water, trying to gauge how much time he had before the creature leapt at him again. Rhyannon eased herself to his side once more.

"My father is already dead, beloved," she whispered, voice tight with sadness and loss. "Leurre has already killed him by destroying everything that was my father and making him nothing more than a semi-living puppet. When I look into my father's eyes now I see nothing of what he was, only Leurre's twisted magicks."

The changeling grinned, saying, "But his body still lives. And I will kill that if the human doesn't back away and let me leave with you, bride-to-be."

Leofrick felt her blanch at the final words and scowled, saying, "I love Rhyannon more than anything or anyone. I'm not letting anyone take her from me or me from her."

Before the changeling could reply, Rhyannon screamed at the same instant as a series of splashes mingled with the Ve'reor's baying and the increased wailing of the merfolk in the water behind him.

Leofrick spun, crouching low, sword ready. The fight was over in a moment, the Ve'reor displaying a blood-chilling viciousness that Leofrick had not yet seen from it, tearing apart several merfolk, leaving the water littered with torn, ragged pieces of bodies and slick with fresh blood.

Snarling, the Ve'reor threw itself at the boat, turning the final attack on a merman into the lung for Leofrick. The lean body and the heavy copper chains attached to its collar shot forward, sluicing water.

Acting purely on instinct, lacking time for conscious through, he kicked at the Ve'reor as he hacked at it with his sword. The Ve'reor dropped back into the water, grievously injured from the iron blade, yet still struggling to return to the boat.

Whirling back the other way, Leofrick bellowed at Rhyannon to duck. She dropped and he swept his blade in the air, deflecting the attack from behind that he knew Leurre would be making. His weapon lopped off one of the changeling's arms, the severed limb tumbling into the water with a small splash and a large spray of hot, dark blood.

The changeling screamed in the same odd language as before and staggered back, glimmering eyes wide with shock. Acting as if of its own accord, his remaining arm lashed out, striking King Oakenmace in the neck. There was a sickening crunch on impact and Rhyannon's father toppled from the boat, splashing into the water.

"No!" she shrieked, throwing herself at the opposite edge, reaching for her father in total disregard for the nearness of the changeling. "Father!"

Leurre snatched at her with his remaining hand, grabbing her hair in lieu of the clothing she wasn't wearing. He hauled her up, holding her before him, her back to his chest as she sobbed and cried her father's name over and again.

"Stand away," Leurre said, voice slurred with pain and shock. "If not, she follows her father and the merfolk will have them both."

Sensing a presence behind him, Leofrick spun, killing two elves with one arc of his blade. As they dropped, one landing in the boat, the other tumbling over the side to add to the bloody mess floating on the surface of the water, Leofrick glanced around, seeking no more foes. The elves were gone. Only he, Rhyannon and Leurre remained aboard while the dying Ve'reor still fought to keep its head above the water and thrashed and scrabbled at the edge of the boat, trying to haul itself after its prey. Leofrick eased to one side, keeping his sword leveled at Leurre, yet unable to use it without harming Rhyannon. As he moved, Leurre circled the other way, keeping space between them. Leofrick sought an opening, not finding one as the changeling was careful to keep himself as fully behind Rhyannon as possible. Yet he could see that the changeling was growing weaker, slower. His gaze less and less focused.

He'll be dead soon. All I have to do it wait.

As if reading his thoughts, Leurre said, "The cursed metal in your blade is to be the bringer of my death. But as I die I'll throw myself out of this boat and take her with me. If I can't have her, no one will. You've denied me the pleasure of being her husband, so too shall I deny you that very pleasure."

Leofrick continued to circle, desperate now for some opening to allow him to free the woman he loved from the grasp of the changeling. When he realized that he now stood on the opposite side of the boat as before, he took a gamble.

Lunging forward, he feinted with his sword. Leurre squawked and backpedaled, taking Rhyannon with him. The changeling reached for the edge of the boat with his remaining arm, releasing Rhyannon to do to. Leofrick pulled his weapon out of the way and dove forward, grabbing Rhyannon's hand, yanking her toward him.

As he did, Leurre shrieked in pain and terror as the struggling, dying Ve'reor snatched at the changeling's arm. The Ve'reor pulled and Leurre went over the side, into the water, screaming.

Holding Rhyannon tightly against him as she sobbed, Leofrick eased forward, peering over.

In the water, Leurre was being torn apart by the Ve'reor's razor claws and dagger teeth. Merfolk bobbed on the moonlit surface of the water near at hand, resuming their hopeful dirge as they watched the slaughter.

The changeling, lacking an arm, stood no change at defending himself and screamed in helpless terror as the Ve'reor ripped into him. Even injured and dying, out of its element, the Ve'reor was fierce and terrible. Leurre sagged, dead in moments, as the Ve'reor continued to rip at the gray corpse.

Easing Rhyannon away, Leofrick leaned out, hacking at the Ve'reor with his sword, trying to finish off the nightmare as it thrashed in the water, once more trying to climb back into the boat after him. Despite the now numerous wounds the creature bore, despite the vast quantity of blood lost, despite the repeated touch of the iron in the sword, the Ve'reor still continued to fight.

Leofrick had only a split second of warning as the streamlined shadow rushed at him to throw himself fully back in the boat. He landed half atop Rhyannon as the white shark burst from the water, dark eyes rolling, skin glinting wetly in the moonlight. Its gaping maw opened, engulfing the Ve'reor, clamping down with rows of triangular, serrated teeth. The copper chains attached to the Ve'reor's collar wrapped around the shark's nose, tangling in its teeth, binding it to its attacker.

The shark struck the small boat, very nearly capsizing it. Rhyannon screamed and Leofrick found himself joining in.

As the boat rocked, they clung tightly to each other, touching one another over and over, trying to sooth and reassure themselves as much as the other.

When the boat was steady once more, he peeked over the edge. Dorsal fins cut through the surface of the water. The living merfolk had gone and the sharks feasted on the dead, showing no preference for elf, merfolk or changeling.

He lay down again, holding tightly to Rhyannon, covered in a mix of blood that was his own, elven, changeling, Attorcroppe and Ve'reor. They lay there, still and silent, listening to the fins glide through the water and the splashes as the sharks fed and waited for it to be over so they could safely return to shore.

Chapter 30

Queen Rhyannon Wykeham stood naked in the sunlight. At her side was Leofrick, nude as well, but for the bandages covering his injuries. One shoulder and the upper half of his back were swathed in white cloth from a single wound inflicted on him by the Ve'reor when it had first leapt at him in the boat. Smaller bandages were in place here and there over his entire body. Yet he stood tall and proud at her side, unabashedly on display for their people.

They stood together on a stone balcony a story off the ground. Gathered below them, reaching nearly as far as she could see to both sides and in front, were beings of many different races. An overwhelming majority were as nude as she and Leofrick.

She reached up, lightly touching the crown that weighed heavy on her brow and glanced at Leofrick, giving him a smile. He returned the expression but she caught the hint of sadness in his look. Above his eyes rested his own crown.

The crown Father wore.

"Everything will be okay," she whispered, taking his hand. She twinned their fingers together.

Our fingers twinning, our hands coming together, jut as our lives have.

Turning her attention to the crowd below, she raised her voice, wanting to be heard clearly as many as possible.

"We have suffered a horrible, horrid, tragic loss," she said firmly, tone level. "My father was not only a good, noble King, but a good individual who truly cared for his subjects. He was lost to an enemy who seduced him with lies and illusions. The kingdom has lost a King and I, a father.

"Yet, during the same series of tragic events, I have gained the love of my life. This man stands now at my side as my husband and our new King. Behold, King Leofrick Wykeham!"

She paused in the face of the deafening applause and calls of well wishes from the crowd. When the whistles and shouts finally died away, she went on.

"Though my husband, our new King, hails from the other side of the Veil and is human, I have become Queen due to my father's death. I have taken Leofrick Wykeham as my husband because he is a just, true, brave, intelligent, caring, warm-hearted man. He will bring these qualities and more to his Kingship."

Again, she fell silent for a round of cheering and blessings.

"Unfortunately," she continued after silence reined once more, "our new King was injured while fighting to save my life and defeat the enemy that stole my father from us. He has been tended to by excellent physicians. But he needs, I think, more tending from a loving wife. Go now, with peace and love, the hallmarks of the rein of King Leofrick!"

The crowd burst into a renewed round of cheers and calls, blessings and whistles. Rhyannon smiled and waved at the crowd. At her side, Leofrick did the same. After several long moments, she turned, her hand in his bringing him around with her. They left the balcony, entering the castle proper.

"You did well, beloved," she said, her tone light and teasing. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you'd spent your entire life running naked and had no qualms whatsoever about others seeing you on such blatant display."

"I've had plenty of time to get used to it," he said, tightening his grip on her hand as they crossed the large, plushly-decorated room.

"You'll have the rest of your life to revel in the freedom of being nude," she told him.

He nodded and said, "I've never heard of a society in which the King and Queen are required to stand before their subjects nude, though."

She smiled coyly as she led him into their bedchambers. "It's an age-old tradition here. Standing naked before our subjects it symbolic of us having nothing to hide from them and wanting them to see us for who and what we are."

Reaching their bed, she gently eased him down until he was lying on his back. She winced in sympathy with him as he reacted to the pain of his injuries. She removed both his own crown and hers, setting them aside carefully. Once he was comfortable, she lay with him, snuggling against him, taking care not to press on his wounds.

"Still," he said, resuming the conversation, "that strikes me as odd in a place where nearly everyone runs naked nearly all the time."

She fought to keep the grin and sheepish look from her face and failed. He caught the presence of both and his expression grew wary.

"What?" he asked, his tone holding an equal mix of play and apprehension.

She kissed him before saying, "You're right. I only wanted you to appear nude at the coronation because you're new to them."

"What?" he asked again, confused.

"I wanted them to see you, my beloved, not royal attire."

Speechless, he lay with her, one arm around her shoulders. She kissed him again and stroked the nipple not covered by bandages.

"You're so used to being naked now," she whispered, "that it didn't even bother you."

"True," he admitted, his tone filled with disbelief. After a few seconds, he tightened his arm around her, hugging her and laughing.

She raised herself up a bit and sucked the nipple now that it had grown hard with desire. "Now... How about that tending from your loving wife that I told them you needed?" Her voice was soft, sultry. The moment she finished speaking she licked at his nipple, lightly dragging her tongue over his warm flesh.

"I love you," he murmured.

"I love you, too," she said, sucking on his nipple again after she spoke.

Lifting herself up, she carefully straddled him, lowering herself onto his already hard cock. She locked gazes with him and sighed with bliss as his brawny manhood filled her.

She leaned forward, bracing herself with her arms, not wanting to put pressure on any of his injuries. They shared a deep kiss as she lifted herself up slightly before sinking back into his cock.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" she whispered.

"Far from it," he said, grinning. His eyes shone with a mixture of barely restrained lust and pure, unbridled love for her.

Pressing her lips to his once more, she moved her hips in earnest, raising and lowing herself over and over, gripping him tightly with her body.

His beefy erection filled her, hot and solid inside her body. The physical sensations it sent through her combined with the look in his eyes to push her to the edge of orgasm quickly. Yet he was holding back and she was determined that he would be the one to climax first.

She rocked her hips, milking his manhood for long, sweet minutes. All the while her ability to hold on eroded little by little until she was gasping, chest heaving, on the very brink.

Him first, or both together at once.

Sitting up straighter, still moving her hips, feeling his cock swell to an even greater size inside her love canal, she ran her hands lightly over his burning flesh. She let her fingernails trail over his chest, raking gently over the exposed nipple, toying with it. She moved her lower body faster, jolting her hips forward and back in the brief, short motions that always made him orgasm quickly.

Just when she thought she couldn't hold on any longer she felt him tense beneath her. His lips parted as he let out of soft moan of pleasure. She leaned down, kissing him, sucking on his lower lip.

She lost control and shrieked with blissful joy as a wave of pure ecstasy washed over her the moment she felt his molten-hot seed spill deeply inside of her. She pressed her mouth to his again and they shared breath as they climaxed in unison.

When it was over, she slid off him, admiring his still-erect cock as it pulsed in time to his rapid heartbeat, glistening wetly from their lovemaking. She snuggled against him, kissing his chest, sucking on his hard nipple once more, before kissing his mouth again.

"I love you," she told him again.

He held her tightly and said, "I love you, my wife, my Queen."

Cuddled against him, she slipped a leg over his, caressing him lightly with her heel, and knew that her life was better than it had ever been and was only likely to get better still from that point on.