Rescuing Layna Ch. 01byinkytaur©
Author's note: It's seemed to me for a long time that there just isn't enough romantic drider erotica out there, so I decided to change that. Enjoy!
Rohn had searched the cave for days. There had been signs of life near the entrance, and he knew there had been someone down here. But all he had found was the occasional tiny bone or long-abandoned fire pit. Whoever was down here was either very deep or had departed long ago. But there was a chance it was her, and that was enough to keep him searching.
The light from his torch illuminated the near wall. He had found his way into a narrow crevice a half-mile down, and the walls here were covered in a nasty greenish slime that seemed to shrivel when the light hit it. Where this led was anyone's guess, but he had to explore every path.
Up ahead the crevice widened, and he emerged into a round chamber, and this place was different: Tall columns rose to the ceiling, and the walls were covered in a thick, white sticky substance, composed of infinite numbers of threads that had decayed long ago and were hanging loose, as if the ceiling and walls had hair. It was soft and silken to the touch, its actual stickiness long-since lost. His heart leapt a little when he saw it: Either this cave had once had a terrible spider infestation, or she had been here.
He continued to the end of the chamber, carefully avoiding being tangled, and through the next few chambers and tunnels beyond. Each was covered in the same threads, but as he progressed, he began to notice the occasional small bundle wrapped up in them.
And then he saw light.
A flickering orange glow drifted down the next tunnel, the glow of life and civilization. He crept forward nervously, around one corner, and then another, the glow getting stronger and more yellowy as he approached.
There was a round cavern up ahead, twenty feet across, and on the far side, logs were burning in a fire-pit, surrounded by thick rocks, the smoke curling up to the ceiling where a small crevice swallowed it. This room, too, had spider webbing on its walls, but this was new and fresh, a brilliant white compared to the dull grays of the previous rooms. He turned to look at the side walls, which boasted a few wooden bookshelves with pots and books resting neatly on them. There was surely someone —
In a moment's flash, he was thrown against the wall, with thick, sticky webbing covering his chest and arms! He looked up just in time to see a large figure leap down from the ceiling in front of him. And suddenly there was a face, a human face, inches from his.
"Who are you?"
It came from a woman's face, a pretty face with sad, tired blue eyes. Long, straight yellow hair cascaded down around it to cover her upper body, which was otherwise bare. Her mouth was cinched up in a scowl, and her hand was now holding his chin.
"Who are you?" she repeated. "What do you want down here?"
"Layna?" he said. "Is that you?"
She recoiled as if she'd seen a ghost, leaping back, and he could now see that she was the one, the one he had been searching for.
"How — do you know my name!?"
"I've been searching for you," he said.
She whirled, grabbing a sword that had been leaning against one of the walls. It was rusty with disuse, but when its point touched his neck, Rohn could not deny that it was still effective.
"Did the Mages send you?" she said. "Who was it? Rothmory? Albegare? Speak, or I swear I'll run you through."
"I'm unarmed," he said. "Save for a small dagger."
"A mage wouldn't need arms," she replied.
"I — was sent by the Mages," he said. "But not Rothmory or Albegare."
"I knew it!" she cried, and a prick of blood welled up at the tip of the sword. "Who was it then? Which of those monsters wants me after all this time?"
"Cirudan," said Rohn. "And Osmira."
The sword wavered a little. "Wha — they — the White Mage joined them?"
"No," said Rohn. "The Dark Mages were defeated."
"But — " The sword wavered again.
"The Council sent me here," he said, "to find you. And any others ruined by the Dark Mages. The war is over. The good guys won."
She took a step back, and the sword clattered to the floor. "They — won? But — "
"I know this is hard to believe," said Rohn. "But you've been down here a long time. The war ended two years ago. Rothmory, and Albegare, and Tunilio, and Garrett — they're all dead. All of the people who did this to you were run through by a sword, or burned to death, or shot by an arrow. Only Albegare surrendered, and he was tried, and he was hanged in Halden Square."
Layna slowly lowered herself to the ground. "He deserved it," she said.
"Can — you untie me?" he said.
She looked up at him. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"
"Again, I'm unarmed," he said. "And you were an Apprentice once. You should be able to tell if I have magical abilities."
She stared at him for a moment, her tired blue eyes suddenly looking more intense and energized.
"You're no mage," she said.
"Sadly, no," he said.
Still laying on the floor, not even looking at him, she reached forward with one of her forelegs, and in a quick strike, sliced the sticky webbing that bound him. He fell forward, and landed on his feet.
"If you try anything," she said, "I can and will kill you."
"I know you're hurt," he said. "I know what they did to you. But it's okay. The Council wants to help you. You don't have to hide in a cave anymore."
She shook her head. "I'm a monster!" she said. "Look at me! I have eight legs! I don't fit in a human world, even if the war is over."
He looked at her, a long glance as he had wanted to savor for so long. From the waist up, she was a pretty girl in her twenties, with a long, slender figure, pale peach skin that needed a little sunshine, a narrow face with a small nose and full rosy lips, and she would have been indistinguishable from any other human girl save for her long, pointed ears, visible hints of the faerie blood that now coursed her veins.
But then there was the rest of her. That pale peach skin continued down past her waist, turning brown and gently furred, and curved back behind her to support eight long, spindly legs, and the large abdomen of a giant spider with a pale stripe running down her back.
And he knew her story all too well: She was a monster, an experimental war machine created by the Dark Mages, one of all too many monsters they had forced into the world. But no matter how they had tried to warp and ruin her body, her soul had remained gentle, and at last they had discarded her as a failure.
"Yes, you are a — monster," he said. "But — I don't fear you."
"Then you're either very brave or very foolish," she said.
"You never killed," he said.
"What!? Of course I — "
"Not even once."
She stared at the floor, and if looks could kill, it would have had a hole in it. "All right! I never killed! I — just couldn't do it. They tried so hard to make me do it. Over and over again. The things they wanted me to do — " She trailed off, and a tear started to well up from one eye.
"You don't deserve what happened to you," said Rohn. "But if you come with me, we can put it aright. The Council — "
"They can't do anything," she said, shaking her head.
"They can change you ba — "
"No, they can't," she said, looking back up at him. "Don't you see? No, of course you wouldn't, not with your magical abilities. You see those books there? I stole those when I fled. I've read every inch of them. And this is permanent — the Dark Mages did too good a job creating me. I'm not a human, and I'm not a spider. I'm the first of my own species. The Dark Mages called me a 'drider,' and that's what I am now. I don't look like a human. I don't feel like a human. And I can't live with humans, even if I can't kill them."
Rohn took a deep breath and sat down across from her. "Are — you sure?"
"Dammit," he said.
"What's the matter?"
He looked at the floor.
"What?" she said.
"I — used to work in Tunilio's castle," he said. "Just a page carrying letters back and forth."
"I remember when you and Rothmory came to visit him," he said. "I was standing there beside him in the entry hall, waiting for his instructions, and you came up in front of us, and — you smiled at me. You were probably just being polite, but that smile — I couldn't stop stealing glances at you, the entire time you were there. I loved to hear you talk at those dinners. And then when the Dark Mages gathered to turn you into this, I watched you arrive, and I watched, from afar, as they led your hypnotized body into the laboratory."
"You — "
"I'm not so naïve as to think I could have stopped it," he said. "You saw yourself that I have no magic. They'd have vaporized me in an instant. But — I liked you. Even after they changed you, and I watched them trying to train you to use this body, and I was hoping you'd escape, and then one day you did. And then when the Council was looking for people to help with search and cleanup, I volunteered to search for you, because I was still smitten."
There was a long pause, and finally Layna spoke. "You should have said something," she said. "I — don't — really — remember you from those days. But — I was lonely then, and I would have liked to have had a friend."
He nodded. "I'm sorry you can't be changed back. I wish you could. But — I know you're a monster, but I don't think you're unpretty."
She raised an eyebrow. "I'm a giant spider."
"You're still Layna," he said.
"I'm a spider," she insisted. "I'm not human. I haven't been for a long time. You're a decent-looking guy. You can find a better human girl than me."
He shook his head. "I don't want to. I found you, and I've been looking for a long time."
"What is wrong with you?" she said. "I'm not human! Can't you see? I'm a spider monster, and I'm going to have a solitary life, and humans can't be part of it."
Layna stood up. "I'm sorry," she said.
She whirled around, and in a moment, a bundle of sticky webbing had covered him again, and her legs were expertly wrapping him up, loosely. She lifted his body up with her forelegs and her hands, and looked into his eyes. "I wish that I could actually have a man, maybe even a nice man like you. But that won't ever be."
"Layna — "
She leaned in, and gently kissed his forehead. "But thank you for this. It's been a long time since anyone gave me a compliment."
"You're welcome, but — "
She daintily pushed a ball of webbing into his mouth with her hand, and then wrapped another piece around his head to hold it. "I'm sorry," she said.
She picked him up, and held him with two of her legs as she began to climb the wall. And in moment, he was dangling behind her as she raced up, up, through the crevice in the ceiling, through tunnel after tunnel, and suddenly they burst outside the mountains into the daylight through a small hole. The sky was cloudy, and a gentle drizzle was falling. She leaned him against a rock, and he could not tell if the water streaming down her face was rain or tears.
"This webbing is my weakest silk," she said. "It will dissolve in a few hours, maybe sooner in this rain. I'm leaving you outside — in the human world — where you belong. Please don't come back, and don't send anyone else."
And with that, she disappeared back into the hole, back into the darkness that was her home, leaving him with only the lingering thoughts of the steel blue of her eyes, the the soft texture of the brown fur on all those legs, and the intoxicating smell of her yellow hair.