The Elves of the Wood Pt. 03

His guarded escort led him across the outskirts of the village in silence, their torches burning brightly in the early twilight. Two guards marched before him, while two more brought up the rear. Their shiny metal helms glinted softly in the torchlight as Drinnen trod along, wondering why so many had been sent to shepherd him.

"Am I a prisoner?" he asked no one in particular.

"Of course not," one of the guards answered. "You may return home at any time. But you cannot travel onward until your task is complete."

"I understand that," Drinnen said, indignant.

"But why have they sent four of you to parade me around? Are you afraid I'll try to rob you of your sticks and rocks?"

"For ease of passage," the guard answered coolly. "Many of our folk have never had the chance to lay with a man. You would never make it to your destination without our help."

Drinnen had not considered that. But her words seemed to ring true enough, given how the latter half of his day had gone. Even now his lips still tingled with Zera's shy kisses, and he did not need to strain his memory to feel Esmaya's sweet, sweltering cunt upon his face.

Eventually their path left the village proper and meandered across a rolling pasture. It was then that Drinnen noticed what seemed to be huts suspended in the trees. They had the vague look of huge mushrooms jutting out from one wide trunk to connect to another. These abodes were built just above the leaf line, and were rather inconspicuous for someone who did not already know their location. In the dark of night, Drinnen could barely make out the twinkle of firelight gleaming through the leaves, likely from open windows. As they approached one of these tree-borne huts, the front-facing guards stopped and stood aside, giving him a clear path.

"There resides Celeste Starspun," announced the ranking guard. "May the gods bless your time together."

They left him then, and marched off into the night. Drinnen watched until their torches passed behind more thatch-roofed huts, then quickly took a moment to gaze upon the stars. They twinkled brightly in the night sky, unmoving and unmovable, as the wind rustled through the trees and the crickets chirped. The moon was a bright white wound in the night sky, and it watched him impassively.

"My dearest Maggie," he whispered aloud, "do you look upon those same stars, or have I lost myself entirely?"

After a time, he approached the ladder that hung from the hut's suspended landing. Then it was only a short climb until he found himself at the front door, and knocked.

"You may enter," he heard her call out.

The inside was awash with orange firelight, and Celeste was lying prone and fully naked upon a richly worked tapestry. Candles surrounded her, and a nearby table was covered in platters of fresh produce, pitchers of wine, and small iced cakelings.

She was eating grapes as she lay by the fire, and the light danced softly upon her tanned, supple skin. Her golden hair was worked into a single ornate braid with only a few strands left loose to frame her angelic face. She watched him intensely, her deep blue eyes gleaming as she held herself propped up on her elbows. Her heart-shaped girlish backside seemed to hover just behind her pointed elvish ears, and her beautifully perky breasts seemed to beckon for his touch. She no longer wore the many metallic piercings Drinnen had noticed at the Queen's pavilion, and instead had replaced them with a pair of dangling polished sapphires, each trimmed in gold.

Drinnen stood perfectly still, nearly forgetting to breathe. He found himself unsure of what to do next.

"I've been eagerly awaiting you," Celeste said, unmoving.

"Gods be good; it would appear so," Drinnen said as his eyes consumed her perfectly formed body. He felt a stirring in his trousers and a flutter in his belly as she smiled a faint, seductive smile.

Slowly, painfully, he tore his eyes away from her and allowed them to wander the room. The inside was decorated with a multitude of antlers and animal pelts tastefully nailed to the walls. Several bows and quivers of arrows hung just beside the entrance, as did daggers, boots, trousers, vests, and waterskins.

"Are you a hunter?" he asked as he approached a nearby pitcher of wine.

"Yes," she said softly. "So is my sister, Jaslynn. We share this home together. We are game hunters and trappers, and sometimes fish the high mountain streams."

"I've never seen some of these skins before," Drinnen observed as he poured himself a cup of wine.

"I would guess you've never seen the animal that wore them either," Celeste said. "These woods are full of curious creatures."

Drinnen nodded as he swallowed a large gulp of wine.

"I cannot argue with that," he said with a wry smile.

He sat down cross legged next to where she lay. She was smiling a subtle, coy smile and turned her head to watch him out of the corner of her deep blue eyes.

Again he allowed himself to truly gaze upon her. His eyes traversed her supple arms, her powerful shoulders, and the gentle indentations of her ribs. She seemed powerfully made, yet lithe and agile, like a mountain cat. He looked at where the gentle downslope of her slender back met with the softly rounded curves of her ass, which then sloped further to shapely, well-defined thighs and sleek, muscular calves. Her elven feet were small and narrow, and her tiny toes wriggled freely against the firelight.

"It is nice to be appreciated in the manner that you're appreciating me now," she purred, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

"You're very beautiful," he breathed before taking another quaff of wine. "Very beautiful indeed."

"Thank you," she said, smiling. "Though, unless I'm wrong, you will not put a child in my belly with your compliments."

Drinnen snorted.

"No," he grinned. "That seems unlikely. But, tell me true...do you honestly hope to become a mother, or is it simply the expectation of your townsfolk?"

She turned her head then, and looked at him fully in the face. Her eyes were such a deep, vibrant blue, like seaborne thunderheads blowing ashore.

"I will gladly do my part to ensure my people survive," she said quietly. Drinnen raised his eyebrows.

"You think it only your duty, then. Is that what I'm hearing?"

She turned her gaze away and considered him.

"My sister and I are of an age, almost to the day," she said. "Our mothers were also sisters, and one day a traveller came to our village. He agreed to pay our price, as you have. Oddly, he picked both of them with his first two selections. It is still the only known instance where a man selected sisters."

"If their beauty matched yours, then I would name him a smart man," Drinnen said, saluting her with his goblet.

She smiled wryly, and continued.

"We lost our mothers when we were quite young. They were game hunters, like us, and would always hunt together, as we do. One day they did not return from the wood. I now know that hunters disappear on occasion, given the risks involved. But at that time, Jaslynn and I were only youngling girls and did not understand such things. We were the only family that either of us had left. I did what I could to console her, and our fellow villagers made sure our needs were met. Yet I would find her, on occasion, gazing off into the treeline, almost entranced; watching. Occasionally she would confess to me that something inside of her would stir, and she would know in that instant that her mother was out there, in need. As we came of age and chose to learn the art of the hunt ourselves, we would often venture deep into the wilderness. Our fellow hunters came to deem us unwise, truth be told. In my heart, I knew why Jaslynn always needed to push onward, and I could not blame her. So we would hunt and camp and fish, and she would look for signs, and I would try to keep her safe."

"That is commendable," Drinnen observed, listening solemnly.

"She never thought so," Celeste laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Once, we ventured for a fortnight into the wood, until at length we came upon a small tribe of copper-skinned men. We thought them short-statured as men go; they were only of a height with us, and their womenfolk were even smaller still. But they were kind and peaceful, and held a small banquet in our honor. Their chief, who was a sweet, handsome man, told tales of their lore that night, and though we understood little of their tongue, he showed us his stories by manipulating the flames of a small fire, so that we saw what he described with our own eyes. Eventually, his tales made mention of a twosome of elvish hunters who passed through their lands many years ago. Of course Jaslynn was beside herself with curiosity, and sat with him long into the night, attempting to ask questions. I grew tired. I was full from the banquet and drowsy from drink, so I took my leave and retired to the small lodging we had been given.

"I awoke at first light. Jaslynn slept nearby, though when I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I saw that she lay intertwined with the handsome chief. They were both naked, and though their flesh was loosely covered with a woven blanket, it was plain to see what had transpired. I awoke Jaslynn, and we quarrelled. She told me that she loved him, and that she planned to stay with him and live among his people as one of his wives, all the while searching for her mother. I could not convince her otherwise. And so I begrudgingly took my leave and returned home, alone. For nigh on a year, I visited her as often as I could, and though she found no further clues as to our mothers' fates, she seemed content. Some time later when I came to visit, I found her belly swollen with child, and her eyes red and puffy."

A wet, silvery tear slid down her cheek to plop upon the tapestry.

"I held her close as she sobbed, and she told me the tragic tale of how her handsome, gentle tribesman had met his unfortunate end; ravaged by some beast whilst hunting. Jaslynn was devastated; broken, I dare say. She agreed to allow me to bring her home. It was slow going, since she was heavy with child, but eventually we found our way back. Then..."

Another tear slipped down her cheek, followed by several more. Celeste took a shuddering breath.

"After we had been home for a time, Jaslynn came to me one night. Her skin was as pale as milk. She told me that she had not felt her son kick since midmorning the day before. Her son, she had said..."

Drinnen offered her a kerchief from his pocket. She smiled and dabbed her bright blue eyes.

"I fetched a healer as quick as I could, but...our worst fears were realized. She...lost the child."

Her words hung heavy in the firelight, as though speaking them aloud brought some unwelcome darkness.

"And, in many ways," she continued, "I lost Jaslynn. You see, she was convinced in her heart that her child was a boy, and eventually came to believe that he died because she came back here, to our village. In her heart, she blames me; I know it to be true. I convinced her to return home, to our accursed village, and in so doing, killed her son. And so I answer your question, Master Drinnen. If the gods grant me a child, I shall leave this place. I will take Jaslynn, and we will voyage to faraway lands, where the enchantress's curse has no power. There, if the gods be good, I will deliver a son for both of us to raise together. And, if the gods be good, Jaslynn will despise me less."

Drinnen sat still as stone, watching intently as the firelight danced upon her supple skin, a gentle frown upon his face.

"Does the curse only affect children born here, in this village?" he asked.

Celeste meekly shrugged her shoulders.

"That would be my hope," she nearly whispered as another tear fled her bright blue eyes.

He reached for her, and grasped her lightly by the hand.

"If your desire is truly to leave this place, then you are more than welcome to accompany me on my travels. A beautiful elf-woman like yourself would be quite the novelty among the Sand folk, I should think. And, I must confess that I am no longer the bowman I once was. Too often of late, my comforts have been bought and not earned, it seems. On my journey here, my attempts at hunting meant only a handful of lost arrows. I could use someone of your skills."

Celeste clasped his hand in hers, and smiled sweetly as she dabbed her eyes. At length, she nodded.

"Good, then it's settled," he said with the hint of a smile as he brushed his fingers across her soft cheek. "Mayhaps we should seal our accord with a kiss."

She smiled a broad, toothy smile before raising herself up to kiss him. When their lips met, Drinnen felt a new rush of energy surge through his being, as though his life's blood was being rekindled. He held her softly by the nape of her neck as their lips danced freely together. After a time, she pulled his tunic over his salt and pepper hair and pressed herself hungrily into his embrace. Their naked torsos melded together, and each of them deftly explored the other's soft, warm flesh with gentle caresses.

Celeste seemed so small in his arms, so petite, and she ran tiny fingers through his hair as she kissed him with her blue eyes closed behind long, girlish lashes. Suddenly, she pulled herself away from his kiss, and quickly composed herself with a deep breath. They held each other quietly then, and Drinnen smiled as he brushed her hair out of her face.

"In the wild," she all but whispered, "females spend most of every mating season seeking a worthy mate. Yet when they find him, they present themselves fully so that he might have his way with her. His way, and no one else's. They succumb to his whims; they live to serve his appetites. So I would have it between us."

Drinnen smiled and looked upon her dreamily as the firelight played against her soft, girlish features. She pulled him close and pressed her cheek against his own when, suddenly, her tiny elven hands slid deftly down the front of his trousers. She gripped his rigid cock lightly and started to slowly stroke his length as her soft breathing filled his ears.

"I am yours, Drinnen. As the stars watch from their high, gleaming seats; do with me as you will."

Her words split the air like a shooting star. She quickly kissed him again before, suddenly, she was turning away. The firelight danced upon the many muscles in her back as she settled herself upon her knees, arched her spine, and gently laid her head upon the quilted tapestry. His cock strained against his canvas trousers as his eyes consumed her wonderful feminine backside's every curve and dimple. Her pink womanly lips peeled apart slowly, like a butterfly taking flight, to glisten softly in the gentle orange glow, and her tiny pink asshole winked tightly between smooth, shapely cheeks. Drinnen's eyes never deviated from the scene in front of him, but he hastily and clumsily shed his trousers.

Newly naked, he approached her on his knees, his rigid cock leading the way. His manhood throbbed softly to the beat of his heart as he held her gently by the hips and pressed his broad-tipped purple head against her warm, slippery flower. There seemed little need for pretense; she was as wet and wanton as he was hard and hungry. So he took his cock in his hand and, after a deep breath, pierced her pink velvety lips. She spread wide to accommodate his girth, and yet she was still so tight that both of them gasped softly. Drinnen breathed deep through clenched teeth as he allowed himself to grow accustomed to the feeling. He palmed her supple cheeks as he moved slowly and deliberately, and began to alternate between withdrawing and pushing forward once more, ever deeper. Celeste pushed back against him, and widened her legs. She kept her face flat against the tapestry and arched her back as much as she could, allowing him to probe her sweet honeypot as deeply as he might desire. At length, he was able to slide the entirety of his manhood within her sultry body, so that the soft, curly hair of his loins pressed against her tiny pursed asshole.

"Give me your hands," he rasped, his full length sheathed deep within her sweltering cunt. She was gasping softly, girlish moans escaping her with nearly every ragged breath she drew. His throbbing cock spasmed softly inside her and she twitched, and swayed her hips against him. Then she did as she was told.

He held her arms crossed behind her back firmly, yet with gentleness, as he began to thrust in earnest. The sound of his hips slapping against her backside soon overwhelmed the fire's muted crackle, and, strangely, reminded him vaguely of horse hooves upon the cobblestones of his home. Drinnen quickly found a steady rhythm and breathed deep, heavy breaths as his body tingled with pleasure. She was so warm and supple, and her cunt so wet and inviting that his length was fully coated in her glistening womanly dew in no time. Celeste continued to moan and gasp into the tapestry, her cheek resting lightly upon it, as she submitted fully.

Suddenly, Drinnen brought the palm of his hand down hard on her rounded, supple backside. The loud crack echoed through the hut, and elicited a girlish squeal from Celeste. She pushed back harder against him afterward, her swaying rhythm matching his own, and he knew that she had enjoyed the sensation. Again and again, he brought his palm down hard on her on her smooth, sensitive skin, until eventually her backside was reddened with handprints. She bucked against him now, her soft skin slapping loudly against his legs as they gave everything to each other. Celeste suddenly wrenched an arm free and quickly, without a word, reached back between her legs to rub herself with fierce desperation. Her soft moans escalated to near shrieks, and Drinnen found himself holding on tight, breathing as fast as possible as she bucked against him like a wild unbroken filly.

In a tumult of sweat-covered skin and ragged breathing, she slammed against him one final time, taut and turgid, and began trembling violently. Her breath escaped her in powerful bursts as she shook and spasmed with his full length inside her. Perspiration dripped from Drinnen's nose to splash upon the small of her back as he held her round, soft cheeks firmly gripped with both hands, spreading her apart as her climax blossomed and her tight cunt massaged him with quick, rhythmic spasms. Her skin became even warmer to his touch, and a subtle blush crept over the back of her shoulders. Pleasure tore through his being like lightning, and he gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tight. He came very close to slipping over the cliff's edge himself then, when suddenly, a mere breath before, he felt her slowly beginning to relax.

She collapsed in a heap of glistening flesh on the tapestry at his front, her breath still quivering slightly as her involuntary shudders slowly receded. Drinnen wore a thin smile as he looked upon her, and panted as he slowly stroked his rigid cock. It was slippery to the touch; slathered with the creamy remnants of their joining. He panted softly as he watched milky droplets of her womanly nectar seep slowly from her reddened and swollen petals to wet the tapestry below. Celeste giggled softly to herself where she lay unmoving, and sighed a deep, contented sigh. Drinnen playfully ran a finger along the soft soul of her tiny elven foot, eliciting another hushed, girlish giggle.

"Come now, sweetling," he said softly between composing breaths. "We are only getting started. For 'The night is but begun, with tomorrow still to come.'"

She only grunted happily, and playfully wriggled her backside. He smiled, doubting she knew the lyric he was quoting, and bent forward to plant soft kisses upon the small of her back. She sighed again as he worked his way to her reddened, rounded cheeks, and nibbled softly upon those perfectly supple mounds of tender flesh. Then he gently pulled them apart once more, and watched keenly as her tiny star winked shyly, and her glistening pink lips parted with a subtle squelching sound.