tagSci-Fi & FantasySurfacing Ch. 42.1

Surfacing Ch. 42.1


Author's Notes: This story is erotic fantasy written by Etaski. I reserve the right to be listed as the author of this story, wherever it is posted. If found posted anywhere except Literotica.com with this note attached, this story is posted without my permission. (c) Etaski 2017.

This Chapter is, in many ways, my own reward for having gotten this far. While there is still plenty of plot leading us toward the finale in Chapter 43, there is also a lot of sex here which determines how that finale goes. I hear a lot that readers would read the story even if there wasn't any sex. I understand, but it is important for me to say this now: The Sex is the Story for Chapter 42.

This is my longest release yet, 153,000 words, and being so large I will break it up into 4 parts.

My special thanks to Eris Adderly, aka DeathAndTaxes, for some extra editing help on this one. My continued thanks to Necrosisbob, Axelotl, Gazukull, and dear Hubby. Credit to George Gershwin for the perfect description for this opening.


Surfacing Chapter 42, Part One

I was out for some much-needed exercise. I wanted to test if I could go the whole day outside beneath the Sky again, as I had been able to do before I'd returned to the Underdark for those months. I'd been working toward it although it still felt most natural to keep the day excursions to early morning and evening while being out at night was unrestrained; my longest reverie was best done at the height of the day.

One problem with that pattern was that we had been competing for about two weeks now collecting some of the most unusual and short-lived food of the area.

"You will not want to miss this window of opportunity," Tamuril had told us, and Mourn had agreed.

Some plants and fruits we wanted closed up at night, I learned from our Druid, while none actively ripened, or it was just too hard to determine their ripeness without the true color to judge. To my surprise, scent and feel wasn't always enough, assuming I could find them without clear color.

In addition, by the time the fruits might be fully ripe during a warm summer day, birds and other animals plucked the best of them before the evening creatures came out. Seeing the color in daytime was the point.

So I'd been staying out longer and longer as the days grew hotter, and I became thirstier much faster needing to slake it for both me and Ionne. Some of what I found I consumed and shared fresh, while if another came out with me and we brought back surplus, then Mai, Mourn, and even Gavin—when he was out of his Shrine or his lab or the library—could teach us the best preservation methods.

"I could dry it and cache it," Tamuril admitted as she learned these new techniques as well. "I did not have these resources most years and rarely stayed in one place."

I had nodded as I considered the hovel I'd found her in when we first clashed. It was probably the most permanent shelter she'd built; she'd been there two years and perhaps had planned to die there after losing Willven's son and suffering as she had by both Elf races. Even then, there had been barely anything in it.

Today I had a helper in the form of a very large Blade Singer who had given his apprentice a day off from her lessons and practice to do with whatever she wished, after she'd taken care of her share of the Tower chores. Jael had gotten those done as fast as she Elvishly could, then tore outside to hunt game on her own with only spells and sword.

No matter the strange routines in varying light cycles, it was beginning to feel a bit like my Mother's plantation in its constant chores and forward planning based on known cycles—or in this case, seasons.

"A lot thicker at Manalar in the summer," I said as I adjusted my hood so the Sun didn't slide into my view."

"Thicker?" Mourn asked, strolling along slowly, wings out and relaxed with his tail waving like a vine floating in a river.

"The air," I said, taking a deep breath. "It felt thicker on my face and breathing in, from what I remember."

"Humid," he said, nodding. "Yes. Much moisture rolls down from the Great Lake toward Manalar. The air is drier up here in summer, but the sunlight is as strong and can burn you more easily."

"I remember that," I said. "One of the first tests Rausery put us through: get naked and get burned. Why, though? Just because we were underground people?"

Mourn grunted, looking upward although he wasn't staring right into the Sky. He breathed in through his teeth. "No. That can happen to anyone with exposed skin. There is less Sky scattering the Sunlight up here than on the lowlands."

I squinted skeptically at him. "Less Sky?"

"Yes," he said confidently. "Air is not without true form though we pass through it more easily than water. The vast pool of air circling the world protects us from the full power of the Sun, but the land upon which you stand can rise up to where there is less air directly above you."

"How do you know that's true and not made up?" I asked, though I was mostly convinced—it was amazing to consider that I stood upon that border between massive layers of air and earth, or sometimes air and water. "Rausery made up some stuff on the why of things like this."

He paused and looked at me, golden eyes warm. "I asked that question in a Dream once."

"About sunburns?" I smiled. "Did you get sunburned?"

He nodded, smiling a little in return. "Where I do not have scales, shortly after reaching the Surface and had not a technique to screen it. I noticed a difference in where I stood exposed as well, a high mountain or a low plain."

I chuckled, glimpsing ahead the last bush I'd checked yesterday for some deepening orange-gold fruits growing on a thin vine clinging to a tree trunk. "Who did you ask?"

"Whoever was there to answer me," Mourn said thoughtfully. "I am not sure I have met this one while Awake yet."

Contemplating that as I kneeled down, I tugged off my pack to prepare for harvesting. "So you Dream to seek answers on how things work?"

"To learn of Miurag all I can, from all angles, obvious and hidden."

Mourn kneeled as well, removing his own pack; with the two of us, it wouldn't take long to select the ripe ones and move on to the next vine or bush or tree thriving along the paths Tamuril had cleansed of their blight. I knew the Dragonblood was constantly "sniff-tasting" any food I collected, though he didn't make it obvious. If he smelled something off—especially necromantic taint—he would tell me. Otherwise if I didn't see black or rot, I couldn't really tell.

My mind wandered as I thought of Mourn having gone outside like this quite often with Jael, but even a few times with Shyntre and Auslan, teaching them to find food as well. He had spent time with Karulin and Natia, and even Mai, when she could be coaxed far enough outside to collect new flowers and herbs for her teas. The Yungian girl loved that she could speak her native tongue with him.

Every couple nights since Willven had returned to Manalar with Deshi and Shunraeki, Mourn asked me, as well as my Priests, if I would sleep with him and Jael in their bed. The understanding was that there would be sex. Neither male had protested or taken a sour face about it, but none had suggested to watch, either. It hadn't felt "right," perhaps. The efforts were not lost on me.

I got to thinking about Shyntre shortly after he'd returned with his first talk with Mourn; he'd said that they had come to a meeting ground somewhere and had a place to start living together, for a time, with me in the center. I had been thrilled that Shyntre had expressed some tentative willingness to couple in the same room sometime, to give Jael a show but also maybe watch me and the hybrid together, so he wouldn't be so afraid of it.

I'd never heard him so honest before.

There had also been one other thought which had flitted to me through Shyntre's powerful presence of mind. It was something Mourn had never told me in words, although I sort of already knew it from his actions.

"So," I began as we walked seeking the next fruit.

Mourn looked at me, the gaze unexpectedly piercing and my stomach tightened; I cupped a hand to the swell of my abdomen and took a breath. "Whew."

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Fine. Um." Now like my sorcerer, I was the one who was tentative. I cleared my throat. "So...Shyntre told me that you consider Ionne 'one of yours'." I blinked and looked away so as not to trigger a mindlink by accident. "Is that true?"

"It is," he answered without hesitation.

"What does that mean, exactly? In To'vah terms, because a male Drow never says that about another male's child, if they could even be sure of the sire."

"Or one has never said in your hearing," he countered.

I paused in climbing the slope, my legs braced wide, and I smirked. "Alright, point. Are you deflecting?"


I waited, and we started climbing again in silence.

"Talov and I talked about this," he said in his usual measured way, and kept my mouth closed so he could continue. "The other two Dragon Sons we've known about wanted females but claimed none of their offspring, if the women had any. I know they could sire none of their body, but in theory they could 'mark' a human child the same as their mother."

"So why the desire for females at all?" I asked.

"Pleasure, other means of profit and power, or in the case of female mages, Hoard-strengthening."

Usually all I had to do was imagine how a Matron might handle that; I had a harder time of it. The ability to have children determined a female Drow's rise to power. At least in the old system. Those who couldn't or didn't want them served best in organizing conflict—mercenary and political—but keeping and maintaining a group of males just because they were males almost never factored into it.

But to imagine males useful to grow her magic? Now we were edging toward overlap, had it been possible for Matrons and Priestesses which, as far as I'd seen, it wasn't.

"Dragon Sons have strange instincts," I murmured.

Mourn chuckled. He waited, and when I said nothing more, he began again. "Talov and I have talked. Those Dragon Sons were half-Human, and much younger than me. As part Elf, I am aging differently as well and have made it through more trials and Dreamings. I did not anticipate or discover the concepts of the Daratrix or the Kiabil until after it had happened. It is possible the younger Sons I've fought sought the same without having a Word for it."


I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. That was one Word I didn't want him to explain aloud, because he didn't have to. The two-way vulnerability inherent in the sound was both joyful and, especially following the dream I'd had of my unborn son, scared the Abyss out of me. Less for my sake and more for Mourn's.

Still I waited for him to say it. When he finally did, it was about as clear as he could get yet there was an undercurrent of uncertainty.

"Any children you and Jael bear, by whatever male, will be my children as long as our bond remains. My sons and daughters, whose auras I will know as well as I know that of their mothers."

Mourn stopped, frowning in thought and his tail curved in a deeper arch. I stopped as well, biting my lip as my heart began to pound behind the sapphire shards in my bones.

"Truthfully I do not know what that means for any future, yours or mine," he said, glancing at the pack of fruit in one hand. "I have no examples of a To'vah-krav Ilharn. It will be the subject of my next Sleep, no doubt, but ideally Ionne will be born and growing well by then."

As we were stopped on the side of a hill and I felt a bit light-headed, I took hold of a branch and breathed against the strong ball of nerves just beneath my heart.

"Ionne is your son?" I chanced to say aloud, simplifying it even more.

Mourn paused as he always did before answering a question, and nodded. "Yes. Your son is mine. This has become True without any foreknowledge. Not with any desire to deny Ta'suil his rightful place as a parent. I did not seek it." He smiled a little bit. "Talov said that is the way sometimes. He offers his congratulations to all of us."

An incredulous laugh escaped me before I gasped, feeling a tremble inside my core spreading out. I held the branch tighter. I laughed again. "Oh my Goddess... I never thought..."

I wasn't sure how I even felt about it. I had never sought this, either. In the beginning I had bargained for his help getting enough to eat, using his resources, knowledge, and skills to remain pregnant and, even if not perfectly safe, neither forgotten nor abandoned in the fucking mess of it all. I'd known early on I couldn't do this alone.

Back at the inn of Augran, just before the first time we'd coupled, I'd encouraged him to place his hand over my womb, to become aware of Ionne's presence, as a means to encourage that protection. Mourn had said the heartbeat was very fast, and he could tell even then my son was a mage.

I had known I gained an advantage then. I could not determine what I was feeling now. It was too strong, too new. Maybe it was just those more powerful emotions I'd heard pregnant Elves lived with until birth?

"Are you alright, Sirana?" he asked again, voice warm but also tentative.

"I could never have guessed," I managed, releasing the branch and stepping downhill to go to him, "that hearing you acknowledge my son this way could...feel like this."

Mourn drew in my scent as I clasped hold of his shoulders and, after resting his pack on top of a dense shrub, he placed his large hands at my waist to hold me steady. I stood on my tiptoes, placed a hand at the back of his thick neck. His eyes were wide and golden, steady and observant.

"Get down here," I breathed.

The Dragon Son met me halfway in a deep and lengthy kiss, curling his tail gently around my leg as I kept my eyes closed. When my hood dropped down as he gathered me closer, tilting me back, Mourn lifted his black-purple wings up to shade us from the Sun and I relaxed into the kiss even more.

There was never much tongue exchange and we were wise to be careful of sharp teeth, but his lips were always warm and inquisitive, his taste hinting at his most primal blood. When the familiar heat flared on his skin and his breath deepened, his taste changed from musky to downright fragrant; my womb warmed in response to my body's expectation.

~More, please...~

As I considered my inconvenient layers, Mourn reached the same conclusion as his hands slid up to pull the straps of my pack off my shoulders. My hands were forced from his shoulders as a result and I broke the kiss to watch him gently place my bounty alongside his on the same bush. The next step was to remove the waterskins we carried and find a place for those; they ended up on the ground alongside my cloak and my belt. Mourn was far ahead of me, as usual; no cloak, no shirt.

"Keep your wings up?" I asked, my voice low. "I like the shade."

With a half-smile and a nod, Mourn switched places with me, his tail uncoiling from my leg as he encouraged me to face the trunk of a tall tree which had been at his back. Bracing myself, I allowed the hybrid to drop my pants down from my hips to just above my knees; the tent of his erection brushed up against my bare ass as he reached around to my front with both hands, one sliding gently over my distended belly to cup one tender breast, the other to massage my furry white crotch. All the while his wings provided the most wonderful shelter from the midday light.

"Mmm," he rumbled, rougher fingers gliding easily through moisture collecting at my sex as I spread my legs as wide as my pants would allow. He scented my arousal, lightly licked my neck and my ear as his chest vibrated again.

I was about to say something—not sure what—when his dark pole poked me once in the crease between buttock and thigh. My mouth was slightly open but not another word spoken as his cock slid lengthwise along my slit and pressed high between my thighs. His flared, triangular head met his hand cupping my mound from the front and, after he slickened the crown with my generous drippings on his fingers, he used both cock and hand to rub my clit firmly.

"Oohh," I breathed, swiveling my hips while my pussy continued to drool all over his shaft.

His tail was back in play as well, crossing itself between my legs managing one tight coil on each thigh. I felt a tingle up my spine and through my gut as I imagined trying to close them, as if to temporarily deny him entry; say, if I wasn't so obviously pregnant and we could play harder as he did with Jael. The adaptive strength hinted in that tail made it easy to visualize one powerful constriction to keep me spread wide and vulnerable, the target all too easy to reach. Like a spear hitting a bull's eye.

"Put it in," I murmured, pushing my butt out against him.

Mourn's thoughts probably weren't in the same place as mine. He penetrated me very slow and careful, and I felt the long and wide stretch, felt my cunt being filled with infinite patience. When he'd almost bottomed out, his large hand still cupped my mons, circling around my well-teased nub, and I clamped down on his cock with a moan and an unintentional eye-roll upward.

~Ohh, yes...this is just as good.~

Mourn's chest and stomach aligned with my back and his chin settled to one side, lightly hooked over my right shoulder where I could hear his shuddering breath and every time his tongue flicked out—which was somehow better with my eyes closed. It had less to do with the Sunlight, though it still made my eyes ache. I was enveloped by this point; Mourn covered me so completely that I'd be in the shade with or without the wings spread out above us.

That long mounting finally finished, Mourn paused and waited, holding me. One of his hands was still beneath my shirt, lightly placed over the scars above my heart. He said nothing, and we weren't mindlinked—I practiced giving my lovers their privacy lately, especially him—and our auras weren't merging in this moment. All I could know with true certainty was his hard cock, his uneven breath, and the fact that his heart thudded against my back more slowly but no less powerfully than mine did against his palm.

Whether it was his intention or not, I started quivering. In anticipation I squirmed on his pole, squeezing him with my inner muscles and finally moving my hips to stroke us both, shallow as it was for not having the best leverage in this position. He murmured next to my ear, a pleasant sound, and then his hand squeezed my mons as he drew out about halfway and thrust in again.

"Ah!" I cried aloud, startling a song bird from its perch near our bag of berries. "Yes! Oh Goddess, just like that...No! Don't move your hand Grip it! Like you did!"

Using the female's crotch as a solid handhold for his pumping was not common for him, I could tell, but he obliged me beautifully, keeping the pressure on my nub and even figuring out I didn't mind the occasional tug on my fur whenever he adjusted. He fucked me so nicely, kept the strokes shallower than they could be in order to build a brisk pace as I verbally egged him on.

Sensation flooded me; my head emptied out of all but the closeness of his body, the rush of each stroke in my cunt, and the flare of healing magic in my womb counteracting the searing pain of the sapphire shards. All of it raised my state to near-euphoria; I gripped the tree in front of me like I would fall off the world otherwise, and I couldn't move. I could cum, though; it was all I intended to do.

"Yes, oh god, yes, fuck...Fuck, yes!"

Mourn had more presence of mind than I did. He took his hand from my chest to hook at my hip, pulling me tight against him as his tail constricted. I felt his cock expand and pulse once as it prepared to spurt into my clutching hole, the knot pressed close but not forcing its way in. I heard his breath stop abruptly; I was submerged in the heat pouring off him. Yet he remembered to lift his chin from my shoulder and tilt his head toward the Sky before he roared in release; had he not I'd have been partially deaf for an hour or more afterward.

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