Queen Yavara Ch. 04

Part Two: Alternative Teaching Methods

Chapter Four

ELENA

I was more than a little disappointed that the other rangers hadn't found Yavara's camp. It was less than a hundred yards from the main road and parked right in a clearing, as obvious as could be. The smell of rotting orc should have at least been a solid clue. I inspected the wound, confirming by the petrified flesh that it had been made by a Nadi arrow. I traced Yavara's tracks a few hundred more yards into the woods until I found the remains of nine more orcs. I smiled to myself as I looked upon the evidence of Yavara's marksmanship; every single arrow was a kill shot, not a one wasted. I traced the probable path of the arrows with my finger, locating many perches from which she could have fired.

A smart elf would have high-tailed it to Castle Thorum after the first orc. I thought to myself as I examined the carnage. Yavara was not stupid, but she was certainly a hot-head. Queen Tiadoa thought me to be the corrupting influence, but it was almost always Yavara who convinced us to ditch class. Where Yavara's mother had been wrong, her eldest daughter had been right; I was deeply, hopelessly in love with Yavara. When we were younger I thought that was just how friends felt about each other. When puberty started to hit, I realized I was different. God had blessed me with an early blossoming, my breasts and backside growing into the shape of a woman's at a young age. Yavara often admired my figure, and scorned her own lanky body. I wanted so much to comfort her, to touch her, to explore her, but I never did, knowing that if my proposition was denied, our friendship would never be the same. Eventually Yavara grew into her own body, more beautiful than any woman in the kingdom, much to her elder sister's dismay. The men flocked to the pair of us, but we both shot them down. Yavara denied them because she wanted a 'real man' (whatever that was), and I denied the boys because I wanted Yavara.

And if I ever see her again, I'll spill my soul to her. So many years wasted for fear of rejection.

My eyes finally rested on a tree with a branch dangling from it by the bark. It was about thirty feet up, and would have made a perfect sniper's perch had it not broken. I traveled directly below the branch to find the shattered remains of Yavara's bow, a quiver of Nadi arrows scattered around it, and a massive footprint embedded in the dried mud. My heart sank as I traced the path of footprints, the tracks leading deeper into the woods. I collected the Nadi arrows, added them to my quiver, and followed the tail.

I walked step for step with the orc's prints for three hours until I came upon another clearing, this one with a large tent parked in the middle. I drew my bow and waited for signs of movement. When I was confident that the site was abandoned, I made my way from cover, my bow still drawn. I silently sprinted to the tent and rolled through the entrance, my eyes scanning swiftly. It was almost completely empty, save for a white cloth lying at the edge. I walked over to the cloth and inspected it. It fell from my shaking hands a moment later, pooling at my feet. It was Yavara's dress, torn to ribbons, crusted with blood and worse.

Oh, Yavara...

My tear-blurred eyes traced the room, looking for clues that could help me track her further. Yavara may have been ruined in the eyes of her father, but I still loved her, and I could never abandon her. My eyes met a third set of tracks, these ones bigger than an elf's, but smaller than an orc's. Human, most likely. All three tracks cluttered around the tent until they diverted deeper into the woods. I was confused as to why Yavara's feet were no longer bound; elves were faster than both humans and orcs over short distances, but it appeared Yavara never made the attempt. Maybe she'd been collared, or drugged. The tracks ended at some Alkandran ruins. I searched for where they continued, but there was no evidence that they went further.

What is it Adarian always says? 'When the trail goes cold, wait. The forest reveals its secrets to those who are patient.' I sat by the Alkandran ruins and waited, trying vainly to keep my mind serene and receptive. Two years of ranger discipline kept the thoughts at bay, but they were still there, at the periphery of my subconscious. I'd raided orc strongholds before; I'd seen what orcs do to elven captives.

An eagle flew over my head, it's screech echoing throughout the forest. Clutched between its talons, was a piece of paper. Not an elven messenger bird, but a wild thing.Adarian, you magnificent bastard.

I downed the eagle with an arrow and rushed to its corpse. I pulled the message from its talons.

"Sherok, the wizard and I are going to Ardeni on important business. I cannot speak of the matter on this paper lest the message get intercepted. Just know that this business is of great importance, or I would not leave you behind. Tell Trenok that he is to be acting chieftain until my return. Make sure the power doesn't go to his head; I still want my tribe when I come back. I will send an eagle when I know of my return date. Try not to fuck any of my men while I'm gone. Or do, see if I give a shit. Yours always and forever, Brock."

I looked over the ruins one more time.Orcs don't just fucking disappear. I withdrew a satchel from my waist, gasped a fistful of powder, and flung it onto the rocks. The ruins glowed neon green, signaling the magic born within.

A portal.

I ran through the forest as fast as I could until I reached the edge. I made my way to the nearest town and flashed my credentials to the stable boy. I gave him a note for one-hundred gold pieces backed by the Bentius Bank before mounting his fastest steed. Before I left, I sent two letters out by eagle: one to Bentius, and one to the elven embassy in Ardeni Dreus. Yavara was in the clutches of Zander Fredeon and Brock Terdini, and they were in the human capital. I was two days' ride from Ardeni Dreus, a day and a half if I rode the horse to death without stopping. I kicked my spurs into the horse's side and urged it forward.

ZANDER

"I'm not going to fucking Ardeni Dreus!" Brock roared as he crammed supplies into our bags. "The last time I was there, some dwarf tried to fist-fuck me! The Great Forest is quiet, peaceful and full of unsuspecting victims. Ardeni Dreus is loud, violent, and every mother fucker there is just waiting to stab you in the back. Fuck Ardeni Dreus, and fuck you, Zander!"

Yavara suppressed a giggle at Brock's anger. I stood with my arms crossed, also trying not to laugh as the orc roared his protests while compliantly packing our bags.

"No Zander, you might bat from both sides of the plate, but I don't swing that way! Call me old fashioned, but having bearded midgets stick their gauntlet fists up my shitter doesn't sound like my idea of a good time."

"Isn't it funny how homophobes think gay men are always trying to fuck them?" I mused to Yavara.

"One might think they have suppressed fantasies." Yavara tittered.

"I hope you're not packing your prejudice in those bags, Brock; we won't have room for anything else."

Brock glared at me. "I've got nothing against the fags or the short-fucks."

"Clearly."

"Thealternative-lifestyle-little-people aren't the problem, Zander." Brock growled, "It's that fucking place; it's toxic. I've seen more debauchery on an Ardeni street corner than in an orc rape pit."

"Sounds like my kind of town." Yavara winked at me.

"You'll love it." I smiled back.

"Do I not get a fucking vote?!" Brock snapped at me. His expression gentled when he looked at Yavara. "My queen, I know Zander is a thousand years old, and he may be the wisest man in the world, but you should heed my council as well."

"Oh, so now you're co-counsel to the queen?" I asked, my eyebrows raised.

Brock stopped packing and held his arms out to his sides. "I think that my opinion should be considered. It's an army of beasts she will be leading; there's a lot of logistics in raising and supporting an army that you don't know about, Zander! There's food, weapons, morale, tactics, strategy, formations and uh... and a whole bunch of other shit that I know, and you don't!"

I rubbed my chin mockingly. "So, are we to make the chieftain of one of the smallest tribes in the Great Forest the Froktora of an army we don't have? Maybe we should travel to the Bend and talk with Cermonok; he sure seems to have a better handle on things than you."

I knew the mention of his rival would push Brock over the edge, and he reacted in a predictable manner. He roared his war cry and charged head-on into me. I pushed my staff to the ground and smirked as he bounced off my arcane shield, his massive body recoiling and collapsing onto ground.

"Stop!" Yavara's voice cut through the tent. She moved herself between Brock and I, wisely not tending to the orc whose pride was hurt more than his body. "Brock, we are going to Ardeni Dreus to find an old friend of Zander's; she can help me access my abilities. Once we've done that, we will find a way to raise coin and head back to the Great Forest. You don't have to come, but I need a warrior of your skill at my back in case things get rough, and..." Yavara glared at me before turning her attention back to Brock, "...we need a great military mind to become Froktora of my army when the time comes."

Brock stood up and dusted himself off, staring daggers into me before kindly addressing Yavara. "My queen, we can go to Ardeni to help you with your powers, but earning money in that place is harder than pulling a tick out of your ass. Everyone there wants something, and you have nothing to offer but your body, and I will be dead before you stoop to such lows. I say we get you your powers, then we come back here and raid stage coaches until we have a fortune. With you and your abilities, me and a band of my best men, and this fucker and his stupid stick, we could hit every merchant from here to the Highlands without a scratch."

"Without a scratch, Brock? Didn't this very woman take out nine of your best men with nothing but a bow? How will a band of your second-best men fare against a fully-armed stage coach?"

Brock's temple bulged with anger. "You put down that fucking stick and say that again, wizard."

Yavara pressed a hand against Brock's chest and stared at me in cold rage. "Brock, the reason we aren't raiding merchants on the highway is because that draws attention. If my father finds out what I've become, the whole kingdom will empty into these woods to find me. We do not have the man power to make a bold move, and as much as it goes against your very nature, we need to act with caution for a while. Now as I've said before, I will not make you come with me, I'm sure you have pressing matters in your village to attend to, but I would really love to have you by my side. And besides that," Yavara's voice dropped seductively as her hand ran down Brock's torso and slipped into his pants, "what would I do without this to keep me company?"

I'd never seen an orc blush before. Yavara withdrew her fingers, and sucked them as she stared up at Brock. Then she turned on her heal, and winked at me. "Now, who's going to help me carry these?"

Brock bounded over and picked up all our supplies with one powerful pull. He walked to me and brushed against my shoulder, forcing me to spin on my feet. "You can't fucking compete, old man." Brock sneered as he left the tent.

Yavara walked by me with a devilish smile spread across her face. She gave me a soft slap on the ass before walking away, turning her head to the side to see if I was looking. I was. Yavara still wore the she-orc clothing that Brock had given her, and from this angle, I was glad that he did. The chest strap hugged against her muscled back, and the thong disappeared between her full, bronze cheeks. Every step she took was a display of bulging glutes, her hips swaying as she walked.

I wish we didn't have to get you new clothes.

We stopped by some Alkandran ruins where I had concealed a portal. Stepping through the green membrane, we entered my basement.

"This is where you live?" Yavara inquired, looking at the cobwebbed shelves full of dusty volumes.

"We didn't all have the luxury of growing up in a castle." I grumbled insecurely.

Yavara twisted her face at me and walked up the stairs.

"Nice one, dipshit." Brock growled as he followed her, his thundering footsteps causing my steps to creak beneath his weight.

Please fall.

I followed them up the stairs and into my living room. I pulled out a drawer full of clothing, and showed them to Yavara. "You're going to need to blend in. As good as you look in that outfit, everyone will just assume you're a whore, and you will be treated as such."

Yavara pawed through my collection of women's clothing, giving me a questioning look. "Why do you have a drawer full of women's clothing?"

"Zander experimented in his college years." Brock joked.

"I can shape-shift, and it's often useful to walk in a woman's body." I sneered at Brock, "You didn't seem to mind yesterday, big boy. Yavara told me there more than incidental contact."

"That was different! Alkandi needed my help, and I obliged. But you sure did enjoy the things I did to your tight little-" I put a muting spell on Brock, though he didn't seem to be aware of it. He continued to yell silently and gesture behind me, miming explicitly what he'd done to me.

Yavara was in a fit of giggles. "In all fairness, Brock did bring you back to life by sticking his fingers in your ass."

"I'll be damned if I'm ever going to acknowledge that. Here, try this on."

Yavara didn't bother walking into another room, but elected to change right in front of us. Brock stopped his miming and gazed slack-jawed at the Dark Queen's bronze nudity. She pretended not to notice the two fully-erect men in the room as she slipped on the black dress. It fit her well, clinging to her body in all the right places, the skirt ending just below her cheeks. I noticed Yavara's sandals were badly worn, so I handed her a pair of boots. They hugged her legs just a few inches above the knee, and I couldn't help but imagine her bent over a table, her dress hiked up and her boots still on.

Yavara glanced down at Brock's arousal, and then mine, a thin smile growing from her full lips. "Time is of the essence, boys; we should get moving."

I groaned in despair, my balls turning blue between my legs. Brock flung up his arms and said something behind my mute spell. I removed it just in time to hear him mutter, "...I'll just go into the bathroom and finish this myself."

Yavara and I packed the rest of her clothing into a bag, stifling laughter as grunts and rhythmic slaps sounded from the bathroom. When Brock was finished with his business, he requested an eagle to send a message to his tribe. He wrote his message on a piece of paper he ripped from one of my books (which I was none too pleased about) before sticking it between the eagle's talons. The three of us walked down stairs, and I opened another portal. Stepping through the portal, we entered a room that was walled off on all sides. I pressed my hand to one of the bricks, and muttered an incantation. A wood door appeared, and we stepped onto the streets of Ardeni Dreus.

Yavara gasped in wonder. The Highlands had a few cities composed of tens of thousands, the capital city of Bentius holding a few hundred-thousand. Ardeni Dreus was a city of millions. The skyline stretched for miles, comprised of towering spires that were hundreds of feet tall, each adorned with a gold statue on its peak that gleamed in the sunlight. The royal palace sat atop a hill in the center of the metropolis, towering over the rest of the city, its colossal golden dome casting a shadow across the landscape. The street we were on was quiet by Ardeni standards, but it still bustled with life from every corner. Horses raced down the road, weaving between trolls carrying heavy equipment on their backs. Men and women shouted from every window, merchants chanted the praises of their goods from kiosks, and pedestrians walked in herds through it all.

Yavara turned to me, her eyes brimming with childish excitement. "Holy shit, this place is amazing!"

I laughed and placed a hand on her cheek, murmuring a spell under my breath. Yavara's pointed ears rounded, and her irises turned green. She touched a hand to her ear, and frowned. I could tell she didn't like it, but she didn't voice her objection. The three of us walked down the street, me leading the way. We dodged traffic and pushed away ambitious venders until we reached a small tavern on the corner called, 'Rasloraca's Rathole'. I motioned them inside, Brock bowing his head to avoid the doorway's clearance. The three of us sat down at the bar and I ordered drinks before explaining the plan.

"The woman who owns this bar is who we're here to see." I said, "I'll go upstairs and notify her of your presence. Don't worry, Yavara, I trust this woman with your life."

"But not your own, Zander?" Brock eyed me.

Yavara turned her head with a curious expression. "I'm sure Zander just said that to make me feel safe."

"Nope." I poured a shot of whiskey down my throat for courage. "There's a fifty-percent chance this woman kills me on sight."

"And the other fifty?"

I wiped the liquor from my lips. "She fucks my brains out."

"You should marry her." Brock snorted.

I tidied my hair in the mirror behind the counter. "I did. She's my ex-wife."

I left the pair of astonished faces at the bar, and walked up the stairs until I reached the door. Taking a deep breath, I clenched my fist, and knocked. I waited for what felt like an eternity, hoping unreasonably that she wasn't there. But I knew better. The door creaked open, revealing a pair of white irises baring white pupils, all strikingly contrasted with dark eye-shadow. Lips coated red showed vividly from a pale angular face, its impish portrait framed with curls of shining ebony.

A thin smile crept across Prestira Rasloraca's lips. "Hello Honey."

"Hi Prestira."

She opened the door the rest of the way, exposing her slender, naked body to me. "I've been expecting you, though I wasn't sure until a few minutes ago if I was going to greet you with a crossbow, or my tits."

"Can't we just talk like normal people?" I groaned, though my erection tented my robe.

"Didn't you just tell Yavara and Brock there was a fifty-fifty chance I would kill you or fuck you?" Prestira glanced down, her red lips curling, "Flip a coin, Zander; I can always change my mind."

I stepped through the door and pulled off my robe. "Sometimes I miss you."

Prestira pouted her lips mockingly as she wrapped a cool hand around my cock, the slender fingers sliding gently. "Just sometimes?" She asked huskily, "Don't lie to me, Zander. You of all people should know it's folly."

"Get out of my head." I growled.

Prestira's lush red lips curled against mine, her grip on my cock tightened. She looked up at me with voracious eyes, and whispered, "Make me."

I grabbed her by the gap between her thighs, roughly cramming four fingers into her dripping heat. She snarled and hissed, her modest bust flattening on my chest. I kissed her deeply, forcing my tongue into her mouth. She bit down upon it, grinning mischievously with it between her teeth. She had me against the wall a second later, wrapping her legs around my waist, pinning my molesting hand between our pelvises. I could do nothing but grab my cock, and plunge it into her. Tight heat surrounded me, the lewd muscles massaging my length, drawing me deeper, challenging me. Prestira growled into my mouth, her nails digging into my back hard enough to draw blood. I retaliated with a powerful slap across her little ass, my fingers digging into the pliable meat and squeezing the reddened flesh. She let out a yelp and dragged her fingers across my back, leaving thin red cuts.