Master of Elves Ch. 04-09

**

Jorgen slept in. The sun had been up for at least an hour before the big barbarian emerged from The Starfish's cabin. He grabbed a bar of soap and hopped overboard for his daily bath in the cold western ocean.

Drying off on deck, still buck naked, was of course the moment that Eanil and Riani appeared at the end of their dock to wave and call out their good mornings. He was a couple hundred feet away, but it was just such a predictable scene that he had to shake his head.

The big man got dressed and pulled The Starship up to the little dock, then tossed a line to Eanil. He made sure to keep his distance while they unloaded all the supplies he could spare.

He cornered Riani before he set out. He wanted to ask about the fog.

"The fog? The Loreius. It's a natural phenomenon, but it's pretty mysterious. Warm winds move southwest from central Areis and are pushed up by the Lorei mountains. High enough to condense into fog, but not enough to cross the mountains, and not energetic enough to create storms. It just produces a steady stream of fog which follows the wind, out to sea.

"Just as the fog passes out from the shadow of the mountain range, it's hit by a prevailing southerly wind which creates a sort of vortex with the wind coming from the east along the mountains. It's all very complicated and also involves the cold ocean current that wells up here."

"Alright, pretty interesting. Is it safe to sail through it?"

"As far as I know, it's just fog. As for the winds my impression is that it's a strong steady breeze that you should be able to tack through. It's not violent like a storm or anything."

"Perfect, thank you, Riani. Give my best to Eanil. He's looking at me like a piece of meat again and I don't want to risk imprinting him."

"You could just take him," Riani said, as casually as can be.

"Take him?"

"Fuck him. He doesn't even have to tell me how bad he wants it, I know. And he's not the only one."

"Alright, we are not having this conversation."

"Oh," Jorgen remembered an important detail, "you haven't told me the name of your village, or your elder."

The beautiful little elf smiled sadly. He wanted to give her a hug, but retrained himself.

"We're from Selani Village. It's about thirty miles down the coast from the mountains. Tiana is the elder."

"Got it," he said before jumping onto the deck. Riani unmoored the boat and tossed him the lines.

"Good luck you two," called out the golden-maned barbarian, looking like some sort of seagoing demigod as he steered the little boat away from the dock.

"I'm in love," said Riani, watching Jorgen sail away.

"I can still feel his voice vibrating my bones," her husband said, staring after the big barbarian.

"And that smell, goddess!" she groaned. "I've been leaking like a faucet since last night. It's a fucking swamp down there."

"Did you see that bulge? It was soft! How is that even possible?" Eanil asked, almost panting.

"Of course I did. It's something beyond 'bulge' when It's hanging down that far. He was bigger than your forearm.

"Which.." she purred, tracing a delicate finger along Riani's slim shoulder, "gave me an idea. Come on, I want you to fist me, as deep as you can, while you tell me about that massive cock stretching your tight little ass. I'll give your cute little twinky a tug if you get me off before Reina wakes up from her nap."

Eanil grinned and dragged his wife back to their little shack. He couldn't remember the last time either of them had been horny.

Jorgen, oblivious to the lewd elves, exited the bay and pointed The Starfish south.

Time to brave the fog.

***

Chapter Eight: Elysian Shore

Jorgen returned to consciousness slowly. It was hot, and his skin was chafed. Sand. The sound of gulls. He was laying face down on a beach.

The big man pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. He took a moment to take a few deep breaths and coughed out a few ounces of saltwater. Finally he got his legs under himself, and rose to his feet.

Looking around, the first thing he noticed was the debris. He recognized the chipped and faded paint on various bits of splintered wood. The Starfish.

"Thank you girl, we had fun," he said to the bits of wood and rope. He found a keg of water and, miraculously, his pack. He must have grabbed it when he went overboard. Not that he remembered.

Nothing else was salvageable. His sword and armor had gone down with the boat. He did have his hunting knife, still strapped to the outside of his boot.

Jorgen looked down at himself. His trousers were dirty but didn't seem damaged. His shirt, however, was torn to shreds. It was warm enough that he didn't need it for now, so he wadded it up and shoved it into his pack. Maybe he could salvage it somehow, later. He had one spare of each in his pack, along with a few clean undershorts. He'd save them for when he needed to be presentable. First things first.

The beach was curved around a small indentation, not quite a cove. About 20 feet up from the shoreline, palm trees lined the beach, with crowded undergrowth beneath them. Behind the stand of palms he could see the canopies of much larger trees. A forest then. Had he reached Westhaven? The growth on the north side of the mountains wasn't nearly this lush.

He waded a few yards out into the waves and looked south. The cove he was in turned out to be the lee of a small peninsula that had been hidden by palms. It looked to extend west a few miles before ending in a rocky point. Next, his gaze followed the coast to the north. There. In the far distance he could see the Lorei mountains. He estimated them to be thirty miles or more up the coast.

Jorgen decided to see the forest through the trees. He had to hack through some undergrowth at the shoreline. Clearing the last of some annoying vines, he looked up into the filtered light of the forest.

He felt like he'd entered a great, solemn temple.

The underside of the canopy was at least seventy-five feet from the ground. A few branches crisscrossed lower down, but most of the space between the trunks and beneath the canopy was open air. The trunks of the huge trees were set apart fifty feet or more. It gave a sense of an enormous hall, distant roof held up by great pillars.

The ambient light was a soft green, and golden sunlight dappled the tree trunks and forest floor. There were clumps of plants, like ferns, but most of the forest floor was soft, dark soil or leaves. The air here was cool and fresh, with the slightest hint of sweetness, perhaps flowers or fruit. Birds could be heard in the canopy high overhead, their vibrant songs added music to the great natural hall.

No doubt about it. This was elf country. He'd finally reached Westhaven.

**

Jorgen could see a few paths that led deeper into the forest. He studied them for tracks. There was no doubt that he wasn't alone, but the trails seemed mostly used by animals. He had seen deer tracks, and a set of large clawed paw prints. If the elves lived here, they were living quietly.

The forest floor was covered, outside of clumps of moss and ferns, and mushrooms, in soft decomposing leaf litter. It silenced his heavy footfalls, as if enforcing a certain reverence. The barbarian felt he should heed that. He was the intruder here, after all.

After an hour, he found a trail of sorts. It seemed to lead southeast, and so he followed it. He hadn't heard a sound yet besides the birds, and no other tracks than those of animals.

Then Jorgen heard it. Whistling. He froze and tried to find its source. North and east, he thought. Off the path. He wasn't overly attached to the trail and he knew where to find at least one elf. It was as good a place to start as any.

The big man moved cautiously through the forest. He wanted to avoid stumbling unpreparedly into any situations. There. Up ahead, massive roots extended from the largest tree he'd seen yet.

Between two of these roots, Jorgen could just see a platinum silver head, hair held back in a ponytail, bobbing. The person it was attached to was hidden behind the trunk. The whistling had gone silent, but Jorgen assumed that this elf had been the source.

The barbarian decided to swing wide so he could find out more before he announced himself. He had to jump over a smaller root to round the tree.

A minute later, Jorgen took in the scene before him. It wasn't what he had expected.

***

Chapter Nine: Selene

Jorgen had found a surprisingly tall elf. Perhaps five-foot-ten, he thought.

She was lithe, toned, athletic, and very feminine. She was wearing a simple blouse that showed off her long arms and slightly-muscled abdomen, and a set of short trousers that hugged her hips and an absolutely perfect, shapely, rounded backside. His eyes traced the lines of the elf's long, toned thighs, from where they emerged, down to her clearly strong, but softly-rounded calves.

Her long, graceful legs flowed like water but hinted at explosive power, the barbarian decided. He was entranced by them.

She also wore a leather belt with several pouches and a sheath for her knife, and there was a large pack beside her.

He could see that her hips flared just slightly. Her respectable bust, which was less than a handful for the big barbarian, looked large on her frame.

And she was utterly stunning. Aleisa herself couldn't compete with this beautiful elven huntress.

The beautiful, graceful elf was skinning a carcass. Her head bounced as she separated its skin, her silver-blonde ponytail swinging as she worked. Jorgen knew he was oversexed, but still felt a little embarrassed for assuming she was doing something else.

Just then, a shadowy figure moved silently and gracefully along one of the massive roots, right towards the hollow where the elf was busy cleaning her prey.

She was the prey, now.

**

Selene sensed it more than heard it. She looked up from her kill, a young buck, just in time to see a shadow leopard silently launching itself towards her kneeling figure. How could something so big be so silent? She didn't have time to react.

The young elven ranger had always known there was a risk venturing this deep into the Asena woods alone, and she had been careless.

It was all over in an instant. She didn't even have a chance to scream.

Suddenly, a massive bulk smashed into the leopard's side with an audible crunch. The huge cat went spinning, then hit the forest floor and slid almost a dozen feet. It crashed heavily against one of the giant tree's roots.

The creature regained its footing with its huge claws, yowling in pain and rage as the heavy, agile cat leapt to the side and dropped into a crouch.

It was eleven feet long, nose to tail, and weighed at least 300 hundred pounds. It had deadly five-inch claws and a crushing bite in its massive jaw, where three inch canines would be able to pierce any bone.

Its spotted pattern was so dark that it was almost black, and Selene knew it could fade into the forest shadows like a ghost.

Selene's savior whirled to face the beast, his knife ready. The leopard snarled and the massive human roared, his heroic figure and golden mane convinced Selene that the lions had raised a deity.

The leopard crouched, growling ominously, and then leaped with its powerful hind legs, directly away from the terrifying barbarian. It disappeared into the forest shadows, like it had never been there at all.

The statuesque god turned and smiled down at the crouching elf. She threw herself at his feet in prostration, or worship.

Jorgen sheathed his knife and kneeled down, his knee sinking into the soft litter. He put a massive paw on the girls head and pet her silky hair, soothingly.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," she mumbled, keeping her face in the dirt.

"Want to explain why you're trying to become one with the dirt?"

She finally raised her head and looked at him.

"I am at fault, for letting a leopard sneak up on me. You saved my life. I owe you everything."

Jorgen chuckled.

"This is serious," she said, looking fierce.

There was no way Selene was going to pass up a chance like this. He was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen, or even imagined. More. There was something happening here, with this human. She just had to see where it would lead.

The massive human watched as the lithe elf shifted gracefully into a kneeling position. She took a deep breath, her long athletic torso expanding as she inhaled.

Selene looked up to follow the contours of the human's masculine face, to find his eyes, the deepest blue she'd ever seen. They seemed so gentle. She could get lost in those eyes.

"Focus," she thought. She exhaled and began to speak.

"What I am about to do will change the course of my life, human. You have saved my life in the most heroic display I have ever seen. When an elf is saved by a hero, she should offer a life debt. You have my life, human."

Jorgen studied the young beauty. Her long silvery-blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, a few stray locks falling free.

Her eyes.

The elf's intense steel gray eyes flashed with emotion and determination. She looked intelligent and fierce, like a force of nature. Jorgen stared into them for long moments. He couldn't place it. But he was seeing something primal and powerful. He loved it.

Her graceful ears rose up more than out, the long lower lobes curving elegantly up to her pointed tips, which extended to about two inches beneath the top of her head. More surprisingly, he noticed that her ears had subtly moved. Something about this confrontation had them pressed closer to her skull, reminding him somehow of an angry kitten.

The elf's cheekbones were high and elegant, while gently rounded cheeks added to her youthful appearance. Her bow-shaped lips were soft but not overly-full, and gave the impression of an expressive, passionate young woman. Her proud jaw, strong, but feminine, was clenched as she stared up bravely at the huge barbarian.

She had a subtly rounded, sturdy chin that was quivering slightly as Jorgen studied her face. Her lovely nose had a gentle curve that turned up slightly. Her fair skin had a healthy sun-kissed color, with a youthful flush across her cheeks.

She had a faint dusting of lightly-colored freckles across the bridge of her nose and upper cheeks. A lot like Lillie, Jorgen thought. But, this elven woman was exquisite. Powerfully, divinely beautiful, compared to Lillie's sweet, exuberant sexiness.

The rest of the elf was just as gorgeous. She had an elegant neck, not overly thin, that flowed gracefully from her lovely collarbone to her curving jawline, in a line you could follow to the tips of her pointed ears.

Her shoulders were feminine without being narrow or delicate, and he could see her athleticism as he followed the soft curve of her shoulders down through the lithe length of her arms, ending in feminine, but capable hands. Her exposed youthful skin was impossibly smooth, and looked as firm as it did soft, begging to be touched.

Her blouse fit her lithe figure well, so he could trace the outline of her elegant torso and slender waist, where the fabric ended, exposing the healthy skin of her toned abs and well-proportioned hips - not wide, but not quite boyishly slender.

The blouse had more room at the front, and hung open at the collar as she kneeled before him. He followed its open neckline and could see full, perky breasts with succulent pink nipples. They begged to be suckled and nipped. Her high perky breasts would be a solid handful for a normal man, and looked spectacular on her athletic frame.

Focusing back on her face, he watched her blow a stray lock of silky hair from the corner of her mouth. He couldn't help but to reach forward and gently push it behind her elven ear, tracing his fingertips along its long, soft outer lobe as he drew his hand away.

Her breath caught and her nostrils flared, and she squinted her eyes as if trying to figure out what was happening and how to respond. What was that scent? Her ears twitched briefly and her soft lips parted, peeling slowly apart as the tip of her pink tongue ran along her lower lip.

"Aren't you a little tall for an elf?" Jorgen said, hoping to buy time to decide course of action. This seemed like an important moment.

Or perhaps not.

The elf hadn't responded, and her steely eyes were no longer squinting in fierce determination. Now they were large, wide and unfocused. Her pupils were dilated and her breathing had quickened. Her lips were parted and her small tongue was resting on her lower lip. She was panting. He could see the pulse throbbing in her neck and the flushed skin of her chest, neck and cheeks.

This wasn't good.

The big man started to back away, but it was too late. The athletic elf leapt towards him and wrapped around his right thigh, burying her face in the muscles of his abdomen, nose pressed against his skin, inhaling his scent. Her drooling tongue was licking his muscles in the most depraved display of eroticism that he'd ever experienced.

The elf's right hand found his cock and squeezed hard enough that Jorgen winced, and her left was vigorously groping his ass. She was surprisingly strong. He had to struggle to stay standing, and to not give into this insane elf's assault. By now she was stroking his hardening length through the fabric of his trousers and grinding her crotch on the leather of his boot.

"Stop!' the barbarian bellowed. The elf froze. Not a muscle moved, her hand gripped his length painfully, frozen mid-squeeze.

Jorgen didn't dare move himself, for fear of disturbing the uneasy peace. He spoke calmly and soothingly.

"Girl, get a hold of yourself. You're not well. Try to focus on my voice, alright?"

The crazy beautiful elf still hadn't moved, but she was looking up at him now, which was quite the sight, with her drooling pink tongue still flattened against his stomach.

"How about you start by pulling your face away slowly, and closing your mouth?"

Her head withdrew from his stomach, and she closed her mouth and swallowed. Then she looked at him pleadingly, with those huge steely eyes. She was trembling slightly, and her ears were pinned against her head. A tear fell from the corner of one eye, joining the drool covering most of her face.

"It's alright," Jorgen soothed, "Now try to let go of me, and step away. Don't worry, I'll stay here. Just back up."

The elf seemed to come to, and looked at her own body, as if surprised to find her own limbs. She managed to shuffle backwards and rested on her heels, her hands flopping into her lap. She suddenly looked small and lost.

Jorgen knew that he needed to be a soothing, calming presence. "Now, how about you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths?"

The girl complied, and he took a step back and sat, resting his back against one of the large tree roots. He closed his eyes and sighed, then spoke, projecting calm.

"I think you imprinted on me. Does that sound right?"

The girl's voice was a quiet, melodic sound, even though it was barely above a whisper.

"Yes. That sounds right."

"I've heard you'll be in trouble if anyone finds out?"

She didn't respond right away, so he opened his eyes to see what had happened. The slender little elf was curled up in a fetal position. She was chewing on the tip of her thumb. It would be adorable if the situation was a little less intense.

"What's your name?"

"Selene," she whispered after a moment.

"Hello Selene. I'm Jorgen.

"So, listen" the big man continued, "or, let me ask this first. Do you pray to Aleisa?"

She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, but didn't move.

"Yes. She's become our.. main goddess, I guess you would say."

"Alright, that's a good starting place.

"Just listen to my voice, breathe, and try to keep your mind away from sex."