They're All Crazy

Mila's legs parted, and she slipped the fingers of one hand over her own sex. He moved his head to treat the other nipple, while he followed the lead of her hand. She was already quite wet, and when Wy tugged with his teeth, she grunted and thrust her fingers inside herself.

Her clitoris was large and engorged with passion. He let her lead the play between her legs, and soon she used his fingers the way he'd seen her use her dildo. She'd rub her clit with two digits, then push them briefly inside her tight channel. Then she asked him to do something he'd never heard before. "Spank it."

"Uh, what?"

She spread her legs further apart and stated, "I want you to spank my pussy. Make me come, Wyfrost, please."

Her eyes pleaded with him, while her hands moved up to pinch and pull at her swollen nipples. This idea was beyond his experience, but no one could accuse him of being a quitter. Still, he didn't want to hurt her. He lightly tapped his fingertips against her soft, wet flesh.

"Harder." She demanded.

With the flat of four fingers, he patted her. After a brief succession of gentle little slaps, it wasn't what she wanted. Mila whined, "Mmm, harder, Wy. Please."

On his next attempt, he put a bit of sting in it. When she didn't protest, he gave her a few more good slaps. Mila pushed her hips toward him and opened her legs as far as she could. "Yeah," she moaned. "Faster."

She crooned and writhed under his treatment of her. He got a rhythm going, and a wet smack-smack-smack joined the chorus of a crackling fire and her mewing cries. Watching her climax fueled his desire. By the time she grabbed his hand to still his movements, her back arching up off the blankets, Wyfrost had a need of his own.

When Mila released him, he immediately wrapped his slick, wet fingers around his solid shaft. He massaged himself, brushing the tip along the softness of her thigh. She wriggled lower under the covers and moistened her hand in her sex. She caressed his sac and slipped her fingers between his buttocks.

Wyfrost gasped as Mila lowered her head to lick the precum from the tip of his throbbing penis. His hand pumped faster with Mila's quick tongue playing over the sensitive head. His breath caught for a second when one of her slender fingers tucked inside his anus. She still had her mouth at the tip and he had to warn her, "I'm going to come."

Wyfrost felt the current run throughout his body. The fluid rose, and he couldn't hold it back. He gasped one final time, "Mila, I'm going to come!"

Instead of pulling away from him, Mila wrapped her lips around the head and sucked. Wyfrost grunted as he released into her mouth. She swallowed his flood, then continued to lick his oversensitive flesh when he was through. He chuckled when she tickled him, and Wyfrost gently tugged at her to get her to stop.

Mila climbed up his body and lay on top of him. Her lips and tongue tasted of his own salt, and she made it clear that she was not finished with him. Wyfrost understood that sleep was overrated, and keeping pace with the insatiable elfess was a challenge he was more than willing to accept.

Wyfrost completely forgot about the great jaws of the mountain. If the spirits of his ancestors whispered to him at all, he neither heard nor cared. And if otherworldly invaders wanted a fight, they would have to wait.

At some point, they did sleep. Wyfrost woke with Mila using his body like a mattress. Sprawled on top of him, legs tangled with his, she was snoring softly against his chest. He lifted the edge of the blanket to look at her. Mila's head was turned up in a weird way that couldn't possibly be comfortable. Her mouth hung open on a little pool of drool on his chest. Wyfrost snorted a short laugh that woke her up.

Mila groaned at a crick in her neck. She sat up, and the blanket fell from her naked body. Her first utterance of the day was to shout, "Fuck!" loud enough to echo through the canyon. She immediately grabbed the blanket, pulled it back over head, and curled her body against his. Muffled by her cover, she griped, "Why is it so fucking cold?"

He assumed the question was rhetorical, because as annoying as she was, Mila wasn't that stupid. Her clothes were within his reach, and he dragged her pants and shirt to shove them under the blanket with her. "Get dressed in there while you're whining about it, and let's get moving."

The Mountain was back, and Wyfrost felt as though it was angry with him for daring to enjoy a moment. The walls glowered at him, and he could feel their desire to crush him. He had to get out of there as quickly as possible. They'd already slept through a good part of the morning, but if he pushed twice as hard as the day before, they might sleep in the open that night.

He crawled out of the blanket, leaving her in the leftover warmth to finish getting ready. A few quick handfuls of snow felt invigorating on his skin while he washed away the smell of sweat and sex. Wyfrost was dressed and had their camp packed away while she was still walking around with the blankets wrapped around her.

Already her teeth were chattering, and Wyfrost shook his head. "Whose idea was it to send an elf to the arctic, anyway?"

"Mine," she said. "And your Vala Gudny agreed, so long as I took one of her people along to make sure I got there in one piece."

"And how did I get the privilege?"

She shrugged, "You're the hottest guy in the village." She walked up to him and pressed her body against his. "If I've got to warm up next to a guy like you, well, I want it to be worth it."

"That's about as shallow as it gets. You don't even know the first thing about me. What if I'd turned out to be some kind of dickhead?"

Mila stood on her tiptoes and kissed Wyfrost's lips. Then she patted his chest and smiled up at him. "Who says you're not?" He raised his eyebrows at her and she laughed, "Totally worth it, though."

She was sexy, but still annoying as hell. He was stuck out there in the gap with her just because she liked the look of him. He could have been at home, and some other poor Norrhim bastard could be marching her through the wilderness. Then again, some other Norrhim could have experienced the benefits of said march, and Wyfrost was suddenly a little more okay with the idea.

Mila walked past him, dragging the blankets behind her. "You coming, or what?"

He let her walk some distance from him, then he called out to her. "Mila?"

Still smiling in her little triumph, she turned to look at him. He smiled back at her and declared, "You're going the wrong way."

Her smile faded, and he appreciated the pink of embarrassment that crept up her cheeks. He waited for her, then they fell in step together.

Wyfrost did push hard, but Mila kept her tongue the entire way. She seemed to sense his unease within the canyon and understood his need to get out. They practically ran for the exit, and she never complained about the pace.

The sun was gone and the stars were clear through the gap overhead. They were so close he could almost smell the open air on the other side. Suddenly, Mila dropped to her knees. For a second, he was torn between her and the open end of the canyon, then he turned to her. She choked, "Hurts to breathe." The plumes of air in front of her face were only tiny, rapid puffs.

Wyfrost pulled Mila up inside his cloak. She pressed her ice-cold cheek against his neck, and he adjusted his hood so she could breathe the warm air near his skin. He could feel the Mountain closing the gap behind him, chasing him with bone snapping jaws. He was too close to stop. Carrying both packs and the frozen witch, Wyfrost pressed forward.

Bursting from the maw of the Mountain, he turned, certain he would find the way home had closed just in time to miss devouring him. Instead, the gap remained as it was, as it had always been. His legs shook under him, and he knew he couldn't go any further, but he didn't need to.

He sat down and leaned back against their packs. As he looked up at the northern sky, Mila murmured against his neck, "Are we out?"

"Yeah," he said. "We're out. Look, Mila."

She peeked up from his cloak and gasped. A brilliant ribbon of green light swirled against the midnight sky. In awe, she whispered, "What is it?"

Reverently, he told her, "The gods are reminding us who they are. They have seen our passage and blessed it."

Mila looked into his eyes, seeing something she hadn't seen there before. Then she readjusted her position on his lap. She tucked her mouth and nose inside the cloak, but kept her eyes on the ribbon of light. She murmured, "Wyfrost, thank you for bringing me here." He bent his neck to kiss the top of her head.

Wyfrost could feel pain and exhaustion working deep into the marrow of his bones. He didn't know how long he'd sat there with Mila, but he felt himself start to drift into sleep, and that was dangerous. He shook himself awake, startling her as she'd already fallen asleep. "We have to make camp. There's room to fix a tent here, so tonight, we sleep in luxury." He winked at her sleepy grin and urged, "See if you can get a fire going."

In amazement, he watched her gesture at the snow, clearing a space with a simple sweep of her hand and an arcane word. While he set up the tent, he kept an eye on her. Fire bent to her magical will, just as well as the snow had. He wondered at a person who could do such things, but couldn't seem to keep herself warm.

Elf witches were the strangest of creatures, something he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to understand. As Mila stepped on the toes of his boots and leaned up to kiss his lips, Wy realized he really didn't need to understand anything.

They sat by the fire a while and ate for the first time that day. They were both worn out and hungry, so neither of them had much to say. Then Mila stood over him and he looked up at her. He'd never been so tired in his life. His back ached, and the thought of standing up made his legs hurt. None of that mattered when she tucked her fingers into his shaggy hair, and she said, "I'm cold, Wy. Take me to bed."

In their tent they undressed one another. Caressing her cool skin, raising goosebumps with the heat of his palms, Wy cupped Mila's breast. Between the cold and his touch, her nipples were already peaked to stiff points. With his thumbs, he further stimulated them while he kissed her mouth, her jaw, and her neck.

Wy bent to kiss and lick the tops of her breasts, slowly moving his hands lower. Getting on his knees, he stroked and tasted every part of her skin. He cupped her buttocks, gently squeezing those perfect mounds in his hands. She was panting softly by the time he pressed his lips to her inner thigh.

He glanced up at her, and she gripped his horns. Placing a leg over his shoulder, Mila made her desire clear. He kissed the soft cleft between her legs as he had previously kissed her mouth. His tongue slowly parted her moistened lips, rolling the metal taste of her thick fluid around in his mouth. He brought a hand around to the front, and with his fingers, he opened her further.

He used his tongue to massage her clitoris until her flesh was engorged with desire. He was quick and firm. In moments, Mila's hips moved with his head, though she kept a tight hold on his horns. Hand behind her, he slipped a finger inside. He could feel her shaking on the leg she supported herself with, but she held on and rocked her hips.

He pulled back only to sweep her into his arms and lay her back on the bedding. Then Wyfrost lifted her legs over his shoulders and dipped his head again. "Mmm, more." She crooned at him.

His hands were more than twice the size of hers, but she proved more resilient than he'd first thought. He added a finger, and Mila leaned up to take a firm grip on both of his horns. She used the leverage to thrust herself on his face while grunting like a wild animal. He might have thought it funny, but he had to maintain his concentration.

By the time Mila rode out her first climax, Wy's neck and back ached for rest and his cock ached for sex. It was a strange combination, to be so deeply fatigued and so intensely horny.

Mila tapped his shoulder and said, "Let me up."

He thought she was through with him, and he sat back to give her space. But she got up only to pounce on him, wrapping her legs around his waist. She took him all at once and rode him like she'd lost her mind.

Wy knew Mila was crazy, but it was a condition he was learning to appreciate. He lay back on their cloaks and blankets, to let the curvaceous beauty have her way with him. At first, he wasn't sure he had the energy to finish. She was tight and hot at her center. Her soft flesh bounced in the palms of his hands, wild hair flying around her face. The sounds she made came from the depths of her soul. In moments his pressure built.

Wy felt the power surging from his limbs to his core. "Mila," he moaned, trying to warn her. Her body arched, and Mila stopped thrusting as the muscular rings of her channel tightened around his shaft. She moaned with him, writhing on him while his seed filled her to overflowing.

Mila collapsed onto his chest, out of breath and in a fit of soft giggling. He thought about asking her what was funny, but Wy never got that far. Sleep claimed him immediately, and for the first time in days, he didn't dream.

*****

"Mila, I think we need to talk. I'm not comfortable turning you over to a dragon." He wasn't sure why he said it, only that it felt like something he needed to say. "And even if you can talk to him, what guarantee is it he'll help us? What if he just... I don't know... takes what he wants?"

"Oh, my gods, Wy. What do you think this is? Do you actually believe I'm going to let a dragon nail me just for a chance he might help us when the invaders come?"

"Well, yeah," he said. He'd thought that was the whole reason they'd left Fjallheim, but Mila's tone made him feel stupid. Even so, he couldn't let it go. "If I'm not taking you out there so you make nice with a dragon, what are we doing?"

After a drawn out and disgusted sigh, Mila said, "You know, you're real cute, Wy. Do yourself a favor and quit talking."

"You don't have to be a bitch. Oh wait! Yeah, you do."

"You're right. I'm sorry, Wy." It was unexpected, and Wyfrost studied her face looking for the joke.

When the joke never came, he asked, "What does your ancient magic book say about it, exactly?"

Suddenly sheepish, she blushed and looked away from him. "Um, well, I couldn't say 'exactly'."

"You can't read your own people's writing?"

She took the book from her bag and laid it open for him. The scribbles and sketches meant nothing to him, but he'd never bothered to learn the elven script. Mila said, "This isn't written in ylf'nim. We don't know who wrote it, but we've been trying to figure it out."

The futility of their journey struck him like a blow. They were supposed to be following some kind of prophecy. It that moment, it became clear that neither the vala nor the elves knew what they were doing. For all he knew, the dragon in the ice was just as dead as the wyverns they'd seen, and he'd run through the Pass again for nothing.

Mila continued, "You and I are going to get to the dragon and wake it up with this." She reached into her bag and withdrew the fancy glass orb with a flower preserved inside.

It was pretty, but that was all. "It's just a flower, Mila."

"It's a lotus, and I've been chosen to carry it. Prophecy says it can wake the sleeping dragon. The dragon will stop the monsters, and I'll have saved Hibreon!" Mila grinned at Wy, as if everything she'd just said made sense.

"How do you know what the prophecy says?"

She shrugged and chewed her lip before answering, "Visions."

Wy sat down hard and rubbed at his face. He couldn't meet Mila's gaze, because the crazy might be contagious. Mila sat down next to him and put her book and orb away. "I know how it sounds." She put her hand on his. Without her glove, her fingers were already freezing cold. "Please help me, Wy. If it turns out I'm not the chosen one, you can laugh at me all the way back home."

He took his own glove off and engulfed her hand with his. He brought her fingers to his lips and blew warm air on them. He muttered, "Put your glove back on before your hand turns black and falls off."

She needed his help. He hadn't forgotten about the bitchy complaints, but Mila was beautiful— especially when she wanted something from him. Wyfrost knew he was a dope. He might as well accept his fate. "Where'd you get this prophecy idea come from, anyway?"

"Our ancestors. About two hundred years ago, somebody had a dream about the dragon, or maybe it wasn't a dream." Mila winced as soon as the words left her lips. Hesitant, she tried to follow up. "I think that's what happened. They wrote it down in their journal, but the language is hard to decipher."

Wyfrost stared hard at her, letting her know with just a look what he thought of her prophecy. Mila hung her head, shoulders slumped. "Shit. This is foolish."

"A dream?" Wyfrost asked. "Was it like one of Vala Gudny's visions?"

"I- I don't know. I guess so."

"Right." Wyfrost stood up and held his hand out to help Mila to her feet. "Then we'll deliver your flower to a dragon and hope for the best."

A trek over the bleak icescape of the arctic was something Wy had never imagined doing. The sun's glare on the white bareness made his eyes water and threatened his sight. He paused their march for a moment to put on a pair of goggles with blackened glass. With a strip of cloth in his hand, he turned to Mila, while bracing for an argument. Her lovely doe's eyes were as black as the night sky. Not even the whites shown around the irises.

"What?" she snapped at him, as though he was the one who was weird.

"Y-your eyes, Mila, they're..."

"Yeah, it's a spell. Protects me from the glare."

She had a spell to keep the sun out of her eyes, but no spells to hold back the cold. Of all the creatures the gods had made, elves were the strangest. "It— it's just a little creepy, Mila."

Her upper lip curled in a familiar sneer. "You've got two pieces of pieces glass glued to a rag and tied to your face, and I'm 'creepy'?" She snarled in disgust, "Fuck off, Wyfrost."

What he wanted to say was, "Fuck you, too, and the crazy elves you rode in with." Instead, he said, "Yeah, I guess we're both kinda weird."

"Are we going to be there soon?"

"Where?" Wyfrost asked.

"For the love of the gods!" Her tone was as shrill and irritating as it had been on day one, and Wy almost forgot about how nice it was to lay with her. "The dragon's ice cave, Wyfrost! Are we almost there?"

"Oh, that. I don't know."

Her wrath at his reply was a palpable delight. She stopped, planting her feet firm in the ice crusted snow. "You don't know?" Wy thought he knew what shrill was, but Mila redefined it for him. "What do you mean you don't fucking know? Just where the hells are you leading us, then?"

"A dragon would choose to live where food is. We head for the coast, and we'll find it."

He turned to go, but she still wasn't following. "It's a big coastline, Wy!"

Wy knew exactly where he was going, but making Mila angry was almost as much fun as bedding her. He snickered to himself and kept his forward momentum. Eventually, Mila trailed after, yammering all the way.

The mouth of the Slumbering One's lair was immense. It was a landmark that couldn't be missed. This cave was so large, that Wyfrost had no qualm about going inside. Dragon or not, there was plenty of room. Long ago, someone had carried great stones and placed them as steps leading down a gentle slope. Mila kept hold of him and they helped each other down the slick stairs and into the cavern.

If the creature encased in ice was a dragon, it was nothing like Wyfrost had imagined. It was even larger than he expected. The gigantic oblong form took up most of the cavern. He could discern neither head nor neck, but he understood his view was distorted by a thick layer of ice. The mottled grey-green thing had odd appendages that Wyfrost could make no sense of. To him, it looked more like some monstrous squid tossed from the sea.