The Highwaymen of Bregan Dor

Aranthir held her under her armpits, thumbs playing with her nipples as he lifted her up and dropped her back down. Laila turned herself to look back down at him, and she smiled a suddenly bashful smile as his cock penetrated her pink purse. Aranthir's reached up and wound a hand through her long hair.

He pulled her down to lie atop him, feeling her hot breath on his neck. She kissed his neck, moaning into his ear.

"Untie me," she whispered. "I would hold you in my arms, master half-elf."

"Aranthir," he whispered back, fingers working at her bonds again. Her arms bucked with each of his thrusts into her, but he undid the knots faster than he had before.

As her bonds came undone, her arms spilled from behind her, wrapping around him and as she showed kisses on his neck. "Hold me, Aranthir, kiss me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," she whispered in a rush, her hot words searing against his neck. Her fingernails dug into his flanks and he thought he felt blood but did not care. His arms crushed the girl against him, slamming his cock into her warm, wet purse with all the lusty might he could summon to his mortal body.

Laila kissed him, pressing her mouth against his in a hot embrace as they fucked on the floor. She ran her delicate fingers through his hair, and he pulled on her long locks while slamming himself into her. She gasped as he pinched her nipples again, she squealed when he stuck two fingers into her purse as he fucked.

Laila planted her hands on the floor behind him and stared him in the eye as they fucked each other. The slapping of flesh on flesh resounded throughout the house, and Aranthir was suddenly away that the highwaymen were still out there. But he could not bring himself to care as he looked upon the naked girl riding his cock, biting her lip to stifle a scream as he legs quivered and her little breasts bounced on her smooth white chest. His mouth dove for those breasts, taking one little pink nipple in his mouth, biting it, sucking it, flicking it with his tongue. He heard Laila's gasp as her mouth dropped open in shock. She trembled in his arms.

"Oh, gods! Oh, Nystra's Tits, I'm coming!" she screamed and Aranthir feared her screams would at last give them away to the highwaymen. "Oh, Nystra, oh, fuck, oh Nystra!" She balled up one little fist and punched it into his chest. Aranthir grunted in surprise, but did not protest.

Her quivering slowed and she brushed her face clear of the long strands of hair that danced about her slender form. She sat somewhat sheepishly atop his cock, her cheeks flushed red with exertion and her breasts red from the pain. Aranthir clasped her about the hips and fucked her wet sex. Laila weakly braced herself against his chest as she lolled about atop him, drunk and unsteady with orgasmic headiness. She teetered forward with an exhausted smile and fell into his embrace once again. Aranthir rolled her onto her back and kissed her lips. Laila's arms embraced him once again and soon enough, her fingers were digging into his back again. He felt her nails dig deep, then felt the faint sensation of blood on his back.

Laila squealed again, and for Aranthir it was enough. He shoved himself off her, he came deep inside her with a roar of satisfaction. Laila squeezed him close with her arms and legs, arching her back as he filled her up inside.

He rolled off her, leaving a line of cum on her leg, and lay beside her by the fire. Laila rested her head on his chest, lazily drawing designs in the sweat with one finger. He kissed her cheek and pulled one bare leg over him.

"You're not going to run away in the night now, are you?" he asked dreamily.

"I can hardly walk," she murmured as she lay against him. "Dawn will take all night to arrive but it will still be too soon. Lay with me here as long as we can."

"Of course, girl," he said and blessed her brow with a soft kiss. "Go to sleep now."

Aranthir felt sleep coming for him quickly. He spared a moment's thought to tie the girl up again, but the warm embrace before the fire was too sweet for him to ruin. If she runs off naked, she won't get far, he told himself as sleep claimed him.

When morning came, they still lay together before the dead fire in the same warm embrace. Aranthir smiled to himself. Perhaps she is finally tamed. Nothing a good fuck couldn't cure.

They headed for the count's castle, arriving in the midday. Laila was wearing a peasant's dress Aranthir bought from a laundress for a silver, and as such was not immediately recognized by the guards, but they happily let her in once they did. Aranthir rode into the courtyard of the castle where the count waited, surrounded by thirty men-at-arms and sergeants, all armed and arrayed for battle.

"Laila!" the count cried, rushing forward to embrace his daughter as she climbed down from the saddle. "I thought I had lost you."

"I... thought the better of things, Father," was all the answer she could manage.

"Do not worry, dear. We will forget what was said between us. I am just glad you are returned to me." He turned to Aranthir. "You found their base?"

"I did. There is an old manor on the west side of the valley, atop a hill surrounded by vineyards."

"I know the place. The Hajelins are distant cousins of ours, though I fear I may never see them again. How many of them did you slay?"

"Two, perhaps a third." Aranthir shrugged. "Your daughter's safety was more important."

"Indeed. Well, I will have your coin all the same. Ailfein, pay the elf as ordered." Aranthir waited while the coin was counted out and handed to him.

"If you are looking for more coin," the count said as he took the money from his clerk. "I will have need of good captains soon enough.

Aranthir sighed as he stowed the coins in his saddlebag. "You should know your rebellion is doomed."

"Who have you told?" the count demanded, his eyes narrowing. His hand went to the sword at his hip and his guardsmen followed suit.

"No one," said Aranthir with a shrug. "I merely observe. Petarr defeated the best of you last year. Those who remain are the dregs of the realm. Old, foolish, disinterested, brash... you won't last three months in the field against him and when he defeats you again, he'll take your lands, your titles, perhaps even your lives. For you dear daughter's sake, swallow your pride and come to an agreement with him."

"The tyrant? Never! You've seen what he's like. You've seen the brigands he has unleashed on the realm."

"I don't expect you to listen," Aranthir continued, "but I had to say my piece. I have returned your daughter, try not to lose her again. I will not be able to help you next time, for I intend to leave this kingdom behind and go east for a while. Apliss keep you in Her favor. Lady Laila, I wish you good fortune."

"And good fortune to you, Aranthir of Ildranon."

He turned his horse about and rode away.

The following night, Aranthir waited in the courtyard of the ruined vineyard. The sign of the Hunter had dropped low to the horizon, hanging just above the hills to the west. Aranthir had arrived in the late afternoon to find the place deserted but for a family of badgers nesting under a shed. He stabled his horse and built a fire to wait.

Night came slowly to the abandoned vineyard, and Aranthir was idly playing cards against himself when he heard his horse snort fitfully. He dropped the cards and drew his sword. From up the south road came a familiar sight, the strange, hooded creature hobbling along with its gnarled old staff for support.

It stopped at the vineyard's gate, two yellow eyes looking into the yard before the house, and shifted on its feet.

"Ho there," Aranthir called. "You were a long time in coming."

"Time?" the creature asked. "What time do you speak of?"

"Never mind that," Aranthir replied. He produced the ring from his pocket and held it out as he approached. "I have done as you asked. Here is your ring. Now, in exchange, how about you explain yourself?"

"What's this?" the creature asked hobbling toward him in its strange sideways shuffle. It peered at the ring with curiosity, extending one frail, withered hand to pluck it from his grasp.

"You told me to bring this to you here."

"I did not, though I am happy to receive the gift." Its third open flicked open.

"You did not? I met you on the west road eight days ago."

"Did you? Eight days ago, I was far away from here, and not to the west," replied the creature. It sat down in the dirt, holding the ring in its hand, and studying it most intently with all three eyes.

"Are there more of you?" Aranthir asked.

"More of my kind, but I am the only one of myself."

"Why is it that I have never heard of your kind, then?" Aranthir demanded.

"We do not often cross the vale," the creature replied.

"You live in these hills then?"

The creature laughed. "We live where you cannot go."

"And where is that? I can go many places. You might be surprised."

"Surprised indeed if you came to my home. Perhaps next time I will explain, or perhaps I already have."

"Speak sense," Aranthir demanded. The creature shrugged its little shoulders.

"I am afraid I cannot." It hopped to its feet and the ring vanished into the dark depths of its cloak. "I must be going now, but it was most a most pleasing introduction between us."

"Where are you going?" Aranthir snapped, his frustration mounting with the cryptic little creature.

"You would not know the name, but someday I may see you there. So long."

Aranthir stepped forward, hoping to seize the creature and demand some straight answers, but it thrust one clawed hand up toward the sky and from above a ray of light fell on it. Aranthir followed the pearly lance up its lengths and saw that it came from Verinusa, the morning star. The creature cackled, its third eye shining brightly, and it streaked up into the sky and was gone.