Scoundrel's Answer Ch. 17

Alan's smile remained as he looked deeply into her eyes. "Just that I will never have to leave retirement, my love." He quickly kissed her, to silence any more questions.

He would leave the guild to Tannon, and Amarinth and Merideth. The two half elves were already known as the conscience of the guild, and Tannon wasn't particularly bad at things, just reluctant. Between the three, it would keep things on an even keel for the foreseeable future.

Finally, all things were settled. Finally, Alan could look forward to a peaceful life, with time to enjoy all his fame and daring had earned. And through it all, the love of his life, the woman who had turned him from a wandering scoundrel to a respectable member of society would be by his side. Finally, he looked forward to getting home.

Their arrival at the estate was almost anticlimactic. Henri had largely recovered, and he and Marcy had put the place right once more. It was as if things had never gone awry. Alan returned his weapons, his armor, and his tools of the trade respectfully to their place in his vaults, while Elizabeth retreated to the bath. He did not have to show her the way, another reassurance for any nagging doubt he might have had.

He still worried, though. Worried over how Elizabeth would handle what had happened in the long run. Neither of them could have realistically prevented things from progressing as they had, but it would forever be a memory to deal with. He was concerned over what might happen if his past came to haunt him again. He had pissed off a great many beings during his time, and if anything, the sore muscles and aching scars earned on the journey proved to him that he was too old to participate in such escapades anymore.

Not that he was truly ancient by any stretch, he knew wizards who would hit the road in their sixties and seventies, older than he by some amount. But for someone in his line of work, slow reflexes and stiff joints were a death sentence.

Alan wandered back up the halls of his own home, shirtless, just in a snug set of trousers what had served him well through that trip. While still en route to his room, he began to work them loose, while his other hand rubbed and kneaded at one shoulder. He was so exhausted, he could sleep for days. As he opened the doors to the master bedroom, however, all thoughts of sleep vanished.

The last time he had been in that room, Daphne was still around, and there were still signs of his struggle with the doppelganger that had been wearing his wife's face. Marcy had really outdone herself in cleaning up the place, it appeared as pristine as it had on his wedding night, when he first carried Lizzy over that threshold.

This time, however, rather than carrying his bride, she already lay in the bed. Freshly bathed and reclining casually back amidst the sheets, she was a goddess in Alan's eyes. There was not a sign of the hardships she had been through over the past few days, Garthur's healing prayers on the way to town had mended even the slight scratches and scrapes of the trek back through the forest.

Elizabeth's hair was still damp from her bath, and lay draped about her head on the pillows, a golden halo for an earthly angel. Her emerald eyes were half lidded, watching his every movement through thick lashes. A deft, pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, before she languidly stretched her arms up over her head.

Her body was bare, firm breasts in full view, with nipples jutting as hard peaks from each tip. Her smooth, creamy skin had gained a bit of color in those passing days, but was still a far cry from the tans of the elven women. One long leg was crooked at the knee, with her foot resting upon the bed, while the other was straightened, leaving her thighs slightly parted. Only the lightest dusting of blonde curls lay above slick, inviting folds.

The last time he had seen her on such display, it had been in that dream-vision of her and the bard. There was desire in her posture, in her gaze, but rather than that of the heated moment, it was a more comfortable, smoldering want. Her eyes held something he hadn't seen then, as well. Alan could only guess and hope that it was love.

She laughed softly, an act which caused those breasts to bounce and sway. One hand lifted, and she crooked one finger, beckoning his approach. He did so, and as he crossed the room with quiet steps, her eyes roamed his body as his gaze had taken in hers.

"My savior. Surely you are going to enjoy the spoils of your adventure?"

It was the only invitation he needed. One knee sank into the mattress as he eased into the bed with her, and he grasped that outstretched wrist. His lips descended to her fingers, and each was grazed with a tender kiss. Throughout it all, his eyes never left hers. His kisses ascended her arm, toward her shoulder, and her other hand slipped to his side, drawing his body in against hers.

Alan had been with many a woman before meeting her, it was to be expected in his profession. But those past few days had been the first time since their marriage he had been with any other. It had also marked the longest time he had been without her in that same span. As he leisurely reacquainted himself with her body, every curve, every nook, it served to remind him what he had missed.

Elizabeth captured his heart and his mind in a way no other woman ever truly had, and likely ever truly would.

Despite the weariness, the exhaustion, the memories of what had been and the hardships they had both suffered, neither of them slept much that evening. Instead, Alan luxuriated in the taste of her upon his lips, the warmth of her curves against his hard flesh. He lost himself in the scent of her, the shape of her body moving against his, the feel of legs wrapped about him, of nipples between his lips, of nails raked along hit back.

There was no rush between them. Each knew what the other enjoyed, and seemed intent on using every trick they knew to please the other. It was like a second honeymoon. Even when he rested between bouts, Alan was content to simply hold her close. She made him feel young again, she made him feel whole. She made him feel like a good man, not just a thief and scoundrel.

It was early the next morning when a knock at the door awoke Alan. He wasn't certain when he had dozed off, but Lizzy was thankfully still at peace beside him. Groggily, he called out, "Who is it?"

"Marcy, my lord. There is someone from the guard at the front door for you."

Alan was at a loss as to who it might be, so he threw on a new pair of pants, and drew a clean shirt on. Elizabeth stirred in the bed, and woke up as he moved to the door. He offered her a gentle smile.

"I'll be back in a moment, my love."

She just nodded and put her head down, but he knew it wouldn't be long before she was fully awake. He stole out of the room on bare feet, and moved down the hall toward the manor's entrance. Marcy was standing nearby, and as he approached, she opened the door.

Out on the front step stood a youth that couldn't be past eighteen. He was wearing the city colors, and looked out of breath. When he saw Alan approach, he bowed his head.

"Sir Tinsley. Thank goodness you're in. I just received word that a dragon was threatening the southern villages. The boys at the guardhouse thought that you might be interested."

A dragon. The scaly beasts meant danger, excitement, and coin aplenty. Adventure and thrills awaited, for any brave enough to take them on. His adrenaline peaked at the very thought, as that old call to arms reared its head. But then, a slender set of arms slipped about him from behind. Elizabeth, clad only in the sheet from their bed pressed her body against his back, and her soft lips kissed at his neck.

"What are you up to, my love?" Her voice was still sleepy, and she offered a smile to the guard from over Alan's shoulder.

The old rogue just laughed. "Nothing, my dear." And then, he turned his steely gaze to the nervous young guard. His smile, however, assuaged any fear his eyes might have instilled.

"Do you know where the Reavers' Rest is?"

"Of course, Sir!" The guard perked up at the question.

"You'll be wanting to tell them. I'm sure they'll provide a few brave souls to face the beast. I'm retired."

For a moment, the boy looked nervous, then straightened up and saluted him. "Yes sir! Sorry for disturbing you, Sir Tinsley!" And with that, he began to hustle off.

The retired scoundrel gently closed the door, and walked his young wife back to their room, confident that the new generation of Reavers could handle anything the world threw at them.

He had his own new generation to begin working on, after all.