The Expedition Ch. 01

"Doctor" Kayly chose to ride a small horse, rather than a halfling pony, which emphasised her small stature, but she rode well. Halflings were a rare sight where De Valleta had been raised and he was still unused to them. He had inherited the healer from his predecessor, the previous leader of the expedition of a score of soldiers, surveyors and supporting followers, including the halfling healer. They were exploring- or rather rediscovering- the Abandoned Lands for the Duke with a view to repopulating them.

Thus far the expedition had been fortunate and there had been little injury or illness, but when required she had been efficient, with a tenderness beneath a faux brusque manner. When she had ridden close to him, usually in company with the pretty human Jess, there had always been an amicable exchange.

In spite of himself he couldn't help noticing the curve of her hip in the buckskin breeches under the short tunic, and the swelling in the front of that tunic. She was quiet but friendly, with a real wry sense of humour and a charming laugh, throwing her head back slightly with a toss of the sandy pony tail.

Noticing her shape and enjoying her smile was a little disturbing to him. His family were wary of other demi-humans, and even the suggestion of sexual attraction between them strictly taboo. His mind had broadened and his views softened in the years he had travelled, but his origins still held sway. After a joke and a hair tossed laugh from her the slight swelling beneath his brigandine armour was uncomfortable emotionally as well as physically. He adjusted the hauberk, made his apologies and rode a little ahead. Was that a knowing look she gave him? Surely not.

And so it remained for most of the expedition. He was busy, and tense through the most hazardous portion of the trip. They were too large and well armed a party to be directly threatened by reavers if they stayed alert- but it was his job to ensure that alertness was maintained. After they crossed the river though, the threat was less and after following the river south for a couple of days, there was more chance to relax. He set up camp- orderly as ever, set a small guard and released those without camp duties to their leisure. He heaved off his hauberk and jerkin and laid it on a tree root, but still buckled on his sword-belt over his light, if sweaty, shirt and woolen trousers. Telling his sergeant to hold the fort and smiling to the (solo for once) Jess, he picked his way though the trees up-river.

After about ten minutes, the high bank started sloping gently down towards the river and he turned towards it. Then he heard movement ahead, down at the bank. Rievers were unlikely, drinking animals far more probable, but caution was a healthy instinct in his profession and he ducked into some high ferns, his hand slipping into the basket hilt of his sword and peered towards the river. The figure he saw, surprisingly close was not an animal or a threat but a .... child? The figure was bare backed, nearly waist deep in the river. He was about to stand up and call, when the figure turned. The breasts were quite large- relative to the small body if not in absolute terms, and slightly pendulous. And the face above them, framed by let-down, sandy hair, was Kayly.

She took a couple of steps towards the bank until she was almost facing her, the water just above her knees. Small though she may have been, her figure was far from childish. The brown tipped breasts swayed slightly as she stepped. The hips had a lovely curve and at the top of the thighs grew a surprisingly thick triangular thatch of dark hair, contrasting slightly with the sandy hair on her head. Maybe a little squatter than a human woman, but very much a woman.

De Valleta froze, instinctively maintaining his hidden crouch.

She scooped up handfuls of water, washing face, under arms, under breasts.

Seconds had passed. He was trapped. If he revealed himself now it would be obvious that he had been watching.

She scooped more water to wash more intimately, hand in that rich bush. Did she linger longer than needed? Or was he imagining?

His mind was conflicted between arousal, fear of discovery and confusion at being turned on by a halfling. Because turned on he was. Now unrestrained by his armour, he was steadily swelling.

She continued to wash. Did she glance his way and half smile? Or was that just his fevered imagination?

He was fully hard now. She turned away, back directly to him and bent to submerge her hair. As she bent at the waist there was a flash of pudendal lips from behind. And was that a glimpse of her....?

He held himself though his trousers,

She stood, throwing her hair back, a cascade of water arcing to the shore. Missing him but startling the deer quietly grazing hidden nearby. The deer leapt, startling De Valleta who himself sprang to his feet. And he, veteran war, fire and fight, fled back to camp like a startled rabbit. Behind him were chimes of a charming laugh.