Queen of Hawks

The luncheon was an... interesting experience. Queen Gwenverre was hesitant to call it a disaster, but she knew she much preferred Queen Piktis' company over her own court due to some past experiences. However, the court watched Piktis like a hawk, noting everything she did when she ate. Everyone got good glimpses of her teeth, which were an oddity. Harpies did not have real teeth, and instead had sharp white rows like a bird's beak behind their lips.

Piktis, in turn, watched the crowd back with equal scrutiny. They barely touched their sandwiches as she sheared through hers, and the quickest eaters were just finishing their sandwiches by the time Piktis was finishing up her first fruit. Piktis was nervous, though she remained stoic as ever. It showed in how quickly she was eating and how her mane of feathers seemed to fluff up and make her look bigger. Gwenverre was regretting this; the Luncheon was obviously a terrible plan.

By some miracle, Queen Gwenverre managed to end it quickly. Unfortunately, by the time the servants were packing everything up, she realized too late that Piktis' guards hadn't had anything to eat! Queen Gwenverre managed to sidle next to Piktis and asked her quietly, "Your guards did not seem to eat anything. Will they be okay?"

Piktis ruffled her feathers and groomed them with the claws on her hands. "They were busy watching your human followers. Besides, I think they're trying to appear handsome to me."

"What, your guards?" Gwenverre quietly exclaimed.

"Yeah. Men tend to be insufferable," Piktis replied.

Queen Gwenverre certainly had her experience with that. Still, there was more to be had for the day, and it should more than make up for the luncheon. She separated from Queen Piktis and began to organize for the next event.

***

For the next part of the day, Gwenverre thought it best to do something she knew Piktis enjoyed: Hunting. For such an activity, she had surreptitiously exchanged her dress for an equally green shirt and tan pants, along with greaves to shield her wrists and fine leather boots. There was no way she'd wear a dress while hunting; she'd only be capable of riding a horse side-saddled. Let the court say what they will about unbecoming ways of dress, and let them try to ride a horse at full gallop while in an unsecure position!

A select portion of the court had reconvened at the huntsmaster's villa, located close to the Royal Forest. No commoner could hunt within the forest's confines, which kept it full of foxes, rabbits, and the ideal beast for the hunt, the deer.

Horses had been brought to the villa and had been saddled and a number of bows with stocked quivers lay nearby. Quite a few of the women who had been with Gwenverre in the gardens had chosen not to come along on this excursion, leaving only one brave lady, Queen Gwenverre's attendants, and Queen Gwenverre herself. The attendants still wore dresses, though they themselves were not expected to participate in the hunt. The lady who had come along had also brought along her own set of pants. Queen Piktis and her guards were perched on a rock wall, their heads tilted in curiosity as they watched.

Gwenverre approached her favorite horse, a black mare by the name of Zylunin, already saddled with a quiver of arrows affixed by leather straps. She rubbed the horse's muzzle before grabbing her hunting bow; exquisitely crafted, it would not break under any kind of stress. She ran a finger alongside its curve, tracing sylvan details of plants carved into its frame.

After Gwenverre mounted Zylunin, she had the mare trott over to Piktis. Zylunin snorted and stamped, obviously uncomfortable with being so close to the harpies. "Would you like to try riding a horse, your majesty?" she asked.

Piktis craned her neck past Gwenverre. Behind the queen, the court was gawking. There were a few spare horses, in case of emergencies, who had already been saddled yet remained riderless.

"You know what? I think I will. There shouldn't be any harm in it," Piktis declared before flapping off of the wall. The court ducked and try to dive away like a spooked horse before Piktis landed next to a random horse. It whinnied at her doubtfully, and she stared back at it with her intense hawkish eyes.

"Ah, er, um, yes, Nighthoof here is one of our calmest mare - " commented a nearby servant, almost quivering in his boots.

Piktis disregarded him and hopped up onto the saddle, her talons seizing the leather saddle and puncturing it. Immediately, Nighthoof screamed and reared up, her front hoofs pawing at the air. Piktis, appropriately shocked, maintained a death grip on the secured saddle as her head whirled about looking for either help or someone to blame. It took all the coaxing ability that the servant had to calm the horse down.

Gwenverre became aware of chuckling from the few attending nobles. Quite rude, she thought to herself. Harpies didn't normally use horses, so of course there'd be some difficulty! It was as if those gilded oafs were expecting everybody to match up to their standards!

Still, Piktis managed to get her claws on the reins and the hunting party was off. Piktis' guards followed behind them, flittering from thick tree branch to tall rock to the next tree branch as they tried to keep up with the group descending into the royal forest.

Light slid through the emerald leaves, cascading onto the ground and leaving dappled patches lit by the sun. Flowers grew in small patches, some red, some yellow, some blue, but none as impressive as the gardens. Trees grew far enough apart for easy passage by the horses, their thick branches above the heads of the riders.

The Royal Forest, more than a century ago, had been carefully planned and planted by a previous king with the aid of a druid. On one side, it faced the royal castle, and the other led deep into thick, ancient growths where wild beasts dwelled, a thick verdant carpet that stretched to the feet of the Mountains of Estrinor. Those forests were so dark and grim that not even the bizarre fey would take up residence there.

Fortunately, Queen Gwenverre didn't need to worry about that portion. It was slowly being whittled away by Estrinorians for wood on one side, so it was being taken care of. But the royal forest, her forest, was gentle and serene. Songbirds twittered in the bushes and squirrels darted along the hoof-beaten paths. Rarely did a bear or wolf saunter into these woods, and if they did? Well, then Gwenverre could add another item to her list of trophies.

She and the Huntsmaster led the party's way, followed by the nobles, and then Piktis, still struggling with her nervous horse. The servant had come along to help her, and her guards were eyeing the man to see if he was a threat.

A twig snapped gingerly ahead of them. The Hunstmaster raised his hand, halting the procession. Far ahead of them, a young deer buck stepped onto the path. His crown of antlers stood tall and proud, their tips wicked sharp, and his soft black eyes were ignorant of the hunters.

Gwenverre silently readied her bow, picking out an arrow and drawing it back. She steadied her breathing and lined up the bolt to the hart. Just a moment later, just one breath out, and the arrow was off, flying and spiraling towards its destination.

There was perhaps the briefest moment where the deer looked up and noticed the hunters before the arrow impaled him. It sunk into his leg, and the buck screamed. The deer stumbled and began to bound away.

The thrill of hunting stoked itself inside of Gwenverre as she spurred her horse onwards. Giddy, she passed the Huntsmaster, Lord Edcott, and everyone else as she traced the deer's path. Leaves slapped against her pants legs as she urged Zylunin forth. Distant shouts echoed behind her, but Gwenverre ignored them.

The wounded buck bounded forward, dashed through a bush, and crashed past branches. The path was too rough for Gwenverre to notch another arrow, but eventually, eventually! The deer's life was fated today.

Rushing wind filled Gwenverre's ears as she followed the tanned hide of the deer until she couldn't see it any more. She had to slow Zylunin down to a trot. Broken branches and trampled bushes showed that the deer was going further in, into where Zylunin couldn't go from knotted branches and unpredictable holes in the ground.

Gwenverre slid off of Zylunnin and tied her reins to a secure branch, patting her comfortingly. She wouldn't be gone long, she mused as she drew a few select arrows. It would only take one final arrow, and then she'd have another trophy from the hunt.

She set off into the forest, boots stepping over roots and dancing across the leaf-strewn ground. Far behind her, Gwenverre's court had lost track of her.

***

The trail was winding indeed, but it was as clear as day for Gwenverre. Traces of blood on the leaves, crushed branches, torn tufts of fur; she was getting close - she felt it!

Above her, birds twittered as if they watched her progress. Light fell through emerald leaves, scattering bright yellow patches with spots of darkness. Lumps of earth grew over with trees around her. The air was alive around her, and occasionally an insect would flitter past her nose.

Gwenverre silently crept up to some disturbed bushes and peered over them. In front of her, in a clearing, the buck was limping slowly, the arrow in its leg snapped partially but still sticking out awkwardly. The buck's breathing was pained. Time to put it out of its misery; Gwenverre notched an arrow and aimed at the beast's skull.

Before she could let fly, the deer's ear flickered, and rough crashing came from the clearing's other side. The deer froze, and tried to bolt as a thick and heavy beast stomped through the underbrush. It glared at the twitching deer, and with a contentious snort, charged at the deer. As fast as Gwenverre could've let an arrow fly, the beast had buried its tusks into the deer's belly and tore through it.

Standing brutishly with gleaming tusks flecked with the buck's blood stood a boar, tall as a human's chest, head as large as a horse's, covered in rough, wiry brown hairs. It snorted its flat snout, stomped black hooves, and rolled red-rimmed eyes.

Gwenverre's blood ran cold. For the first time, she wondered where her court was. She had left them. Her overzealous confidence had torn her away from safety, just like at the Talon Mountains. She'd leave Estrinor leaderless.

No, no! Now was not the time for that! She could, no, she would survive! She could kill a boar with, what, three arrows? Maybe she couldn't...

The boar's ears flickered, and Gwenverre sensed that she needed to decided, and decide fast!

The boar turned its head slightly. Gwenverre turned and ran.

Leaves whipped past her face as Gwenverre's boots slapped against the ground, hopping over root and stone. Behind her, she heard a snort, then a squeal of incoherent, unbridled rage. The boar was after her now.

Thrashing and crashing exploded behind her as the boar began to purse her. She couldn't out-run it and she couldn't kill it quickly. She needed something!

A thick, low-hanging branch was a little way off the way she came. Excellent! With a skillful hop, Gwenverre hopped up onto the tree branch and turned to face the beast.

With a monstrous squeal, shrubbery exploded into a salad of leaves and twigs, and the boar halted and looked around. Piggish red-lined eyes fixated on Gwenverre. It snorted and stomped its hooves. Perhaps she wasn't as safe here as she thought she was.

The boar shot forth like an arrow of destruction, aiming for Gwenverre's low branch. It'd easily be able to shatter the limb without mercy, and take Gwenverre's legs with it.

Another branch close to her! She leapt for it desperately, and barely caught it. Her feet got carried with the wind brought forth by the boar's speed, and below her, the tree jerked as wood cracked and snapped sickeningly. Sweating and heart pounding, Gwenverre dragged herself up.

Crouching and holding on to the branch for dear life, Gwenverre surveyed the situation. Her bow, along with its arrows, were on the ground, snapped by the boar's hooves. Her stomach sank as she realized she had dropped them as she leapt. Gwenverre was weaponless.

Beyond that, the boar stomped around a large sunny break in the trees, snorting malignantly. Its hateful eyes glared at her with inhuman malice. It judged her, trying to figure out some means of knocking her down and pulverizing her in a gory tide.

The boar grunted, and charged at the tree. The slam rattled the entire tree, and bark exploded from the trunk. Even the tree wouldn't last long against this behemoth!

Gwenverre flung her gaze around, eyes darting to and fro, searching for an exit. Not another branch on the same tree, it'd be of no use. Neither could she leap to another tree. They were all too far away.

Another bone-shaking crunch against the tree, and Gwenverre was lost to count the seconds until the throne of Estrinor would be abandoned.

The boar circled back around, its thick lips almost smiling sadistically in victory. It focused its eyes on Gwenverre for what could be the last time. It placed its hooves against the tussled earth, ready to shoot forth one last time.

A shadow swept above the clearing, one shaped like a titanic hawk! Was it Piktis, or even one of her guards? It didn't matter, not right now. "Help!" Gwenverre shrieked.

The boar's ears flickered, barely aware of whoever was above it. The shadow slid past, and the boar began to run at the tree once again.

Gwenverre saw what happened next in slow motion. As the boar crossed the clearing, the shadow reappeared out of nowhere, and then rapidly darkened on the boar's head. With a sickening crunch, Piktis landed on the boar, her talons digging into the boar's spine and skull.

The boar squealed madly, twisting and turning to launch Piktis from its back. Piktis' wings flapped madly as she tried to drive her wicked hunting talons further into the berserk beast. Her teeth were bared into a savage snarl, her eyes fierce and protective.

Piktis nearly was thrown off of the thing, but at the last moment, her talons seized around the boar's cranium and squeezed. With a sickening crack, the boar froze, blood seeping from cracks in its scalp. With another sharp jerk, Piktis twisted the boar's neck to break it. The monster collapsed and lay still.

They stood like that for a few moments, each catching their breath. Eventually, Gwenverre hopped off the branch onto the ground, her legs wobbling, and walked over to the dead boar.

Piktis turned to look at Gwenverre. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm... I'm unhurt," Gwenverre replied, "You know, if I had prepared, I could've killed it."

"Sure, you could. I'm just glad you're okay," Piktis said as she began rubbing her head affectionately against Gwenverre.

"Stop that! What if someone sees us?" Gwenverre giggled, mockingly pushing against Piktis.

"I killed a boar. They'll listen to me," Piktis said.

Gwenverre sighed, and said, "You know humans don't work like that. We can't just do anything we want even if we're powerful enough. There's other people to consider, after all."

It was Piktis' turn to sigh as she settled back down, her head feathers ruffled. "Other people are a chore," she admitted, "but they need people like you and me."

"Oh, what about our deal?" Queen Gwenverre asked.

"Of course, I'm going to agree to it! It's not like we can get the silver out anyways! And I think some of the matriarchs would love things like jewels and mirrors, and even the regular folk would love a basket that they can fly away with. Besides, if taking care of those bandits ensures that Estrinor will always be there with the Talon Mountains, then why not?" Piktis exclaimed.

Piktis perked her head up, looking into the forest. She began to brush down her feathers as Gwenverre heard the ugly crashing and the exclamation of "Your highness? Your Highness?!"

Lord Edcott burst out of the forest leading a train composed of the Huntsmaster and a few brave nobles. Piktis' guards followed close behind them. They had abandoned their horses, for probably the same reason as Gwenverre had.

"Your highness! Are you okay?!" Lord Edcott burst out. He looked to nearly be on the verge of tears.

"I'm all right, thanks to Queen Piktis here. A boar of uncommon vitriol chanced upon that dear I had shot earlier, and nearly chanced upon me. Queen Piktis found us and killed the beast," Queen Gwenverre said, motioning to the corpse.

Lord Edcott looked at Piktis, who smiled. Lord Edcott paled.

***

After that, they had managed to drag the boar back to the castle with some effort. Those who caught sight of it asked who brought it down, and Piktis beamed with pride. Gwenverre wasn't sure if they'd accept harpies easier or harder now after such a feat of strength.

After the boar was dragged off to be butchered, its head destined to be stuffed and mounted, Gwenverre was swarmed by concerned courtiers. The gentlemen commented on her bravery (such condescension!) while the women either sympathized with her or chided her recklessness. She caught glimpses of the spymaster looking at the boar's corpse, and made mental note to see what caught his interest.

Dinner... went better than expected. Queen Piktis seemed to have actually calmed down around the court, who still judged her every move, and was trying to use silverware against her food. Each utensil was held in a death grip, and Piktis carefully maneuvered her wings to be able to pick up the food.

Finally, after a long day that would carry on into tomorrow, the evening crept in. Piktis was placed in a tower room with a large balcony, and her guards located only a floor down. Queen Gwenverre had drinks sent to the guards of her chamber, as a 'special celebration' for the arrival of the Queen of Hawks. Gwenverre did not intend to be interrupted.

***

That night, Queen Gwenverre waited in her bedroom with the balcony doors open. The cool night wind slid through her translucent dark green night robe, perking up her nipples. The waxing moon, nearly full, hung high in the sky, illuminating her realm. Behind her, an oil lamp cast flickering lights around the room.

Gwenverre searched the sky. Where was Piktis? Surely, she hadn't gone to sleep already! Gwenverre had had enough trouble getting the guards dead-drunk. She didn't want her efforts to go to waste!

There was a flash of movement against the clouds, and Gwenverre's eyes darted to track the outstretched wings of some man-sized nightly flier. It spun lazily in the air, then coasted down to Gwenverre's balcony. As it got closer and closer, it became more obvious that it was Piktis.

She alighted on the stony railing with a flutter of her wings, her talons seizing the edge with a death grip. With her wings outstretched, Piktis proudly displayed herself. She was utterly nude. That necklace of hers had been discarded before she took flight, and the lantern-light of the room danced across her defined muscles and hard nipples. On her right breast, a sun was tattooed in blue, and her left had the image of the moon and stars. Her bare stomach was detailed with a heavy raincloud blown in by winds on either side of her waist. Without her loincloth, it was easy to see a happy trail of soft, downy feathers lead their way from her navel to form a bush at her sex.

Piktis brushed through her mane of feathers with a clawed hand and said, "Well, that could've been easier to find."

Gwenverre smiled and replied, "I only had so much time to tell you, dear."

"Still, I'm so glad that your crowd of humans has finally gone away," Piktis said, hoping off the railing with a clack of her talons. "I mean, it was so awkward! Do they always gawk so much?"

"Fortunately, no. It is just that they have no faith in interspecies relationships. They are quite rude in that regard."