The Solitary Arrow Ch. 16


She used her leverage against his braced arms to pull herself downward upon his organ, forcing it deeper. She looked up at him, and smiled almost angelically.

Harlen began thrusting into her, using more and more force with each few strokes and pulling more earnestly with his hands upon her hips. Soon, he was pounding his cock into her tight opening with her matching each push with a upward motion of her own hips.

Long moments of this passed, with Harlen and Hyandai both growing more frantic and louder. Finally, Hyandai screamed out, arching her back and tilting her head back as she lifted herself off the table and only touched at his pelvis, her rump, upon the table, and the back of her head.

She relaxed after a moment of this, gasping, and moving her hands over Harlen’s arms.

Harlen’s thrusts now became more insistent, then he grunted deep down in his chest, his hips locking as he pushed into her one last time. His cock twitched as he shot his semen into her. She tightened herself upon the base of his pole, encouraging him to spill his seed freely. “Give to me, beloved.” She said quietly, her eyes now glowing a bright green. He pulled back and sunk himself into her a few more times, loving the silky warmth that engulfed him and the tight contractions she was forcing around his shaft.

He pulled his spent pole from her, it slid forth slowly and she clamped down on it as he moved out. She let out a deep sigh as he finally pulled the still swollen head forth and her body fully relaxed.

Harlen’s face was a mask of pleasure for a moment, then it slowly changed to one of confusion. “Weren’t you 'indisposed'?” He asked, finally realizing what had been somewhat bothering him.

“It has passed.” Hyandai confirmed, and nodded.

He helped Hyandai sit up, and he smiled. “Then we have a few days before we need to worry about you conceiving.” He said.

Hyandai blinked a couple of times. “What?” She asked.

“Aren’t women more likely to become pregnant right before their, well, monthlies?” Harlen asked.

Hyandai looked at him, then giggled. “Hardly.” She said. “I do not know about human women’s cycle, but elves are most fertile immediately following their estrus.”

It was Harlen’s turn to blink. “As in . . ..” He prompted.

“Now.” Hyandai supplied helpfully.

She then broke into peals of giggling as he blinked a few more times. Slowly, a small grin moved his lips upward.

“And you don’t mind the risk?” Harlen asked.

Hyandai sat up. “What risk?” She asked in response. “I have taken no risk.” She leaned up and kissed him. “I am more than ready to bear your child, if the Spirits deem it is time.”

“But doesn’t that sort of get in the way of the year and a day?” He asked, still rather startled.

She shook her head. “No.” She responded easily. “I am only insisting, now, on the year and a day, because it is the way it is done.” A broad smile graced her lovely face. “I would willingly wed you today, if it were permissible.”

A flush of gladness suffused Harlen’s features and she could see him puffing up with pleasure. This gladdened her greatly, that he desired her equally as a lifelong mate.

“I cannot wait for the year to end then.” Harlen said, kissing her neck.

She rose and dressed, though she seemed to not wish to. It had been sheer luck that Trevir had not come down from the guest room upstairs. Harlen also pulled up his pants and fastened his belt.

They both looked guiltily at the doorway as they heard Trevir’s voice from upstairs. “I’m not coming unless you two rabbits are done!”

Harlen coughed quietly and looked sheepishly at Hyandai. She tilted her head slightly in consideration, then said. “We are quite finished, Trevir.” She looked over at Harlen and shrugged. “It is not like he did not know, hmm?” She asked.

Breaking down into a fit of laughter, Harlen agreed, nodding his head. “You’re right there.” He said, finally, wiping his eyes.

Trevir’s face peered around the corner. “I feel I should wash the whole kitchen before eating anything in here.” He said, mockingly, giving the room a looking over before moving to get something to eat.

As he moved to the cupboard to explore for foodstuffs to his liking, Harlen surreptitiously handed Hyandai a hand towel. She looked at him a brief moment, in confusion, then caught the direction of his glance. Following this, she saw where fruit juice, pulp, and no little of her own fluids. Her eyes widened in panic, and she quickly cleaned it up with the hand towel, concealing the incriminating cloth behind her back.

They both then sidled from the kitchen and went into the common room as Trevir turned and looked suspiciously at the table.


Most of the day passed slowly. Hyandai sat a long while answering Trevir’s questions on elven society and customs from the book, confirming some recorded facts from the text, and dismissing others. Harlen listened from within the workshop, absorbing quite a lot of what was said on the various topics discussed.

The latter half of the day, the couple spent, once again packing up their traveling kits. Harlen had crafted a new leather scabbard for the Ehladrel. It sat upon her back, where she could draw it over her shoulder, rather than fumble under her own arm with both hands.

“How did you get the size so perfect?” Hyandai asked. Eyeing the snug fit of the weapon into the scabbard.

Harlen held up a wooden copy of the Ehladrel. He had even painted it dull gray with silvery highlights and wrapped the handle in an excellent facsimile of the leather wrapping about the various gripping points.

Hyandai giggled at that. “Not only can elves craft Ehladrim, hmm?” She asked.

With a nod, Harlen shoved the mock weapon into the old soft leather cover, and slung it beneath his backpack. “I’ll give it to some elven lad, to practice with.” He said.

A broad smile crossed Hyandai’s face. “It would make a wonderful gift for an aspiring blade dancer.” She said. “What did you make it of?”

“Lemon, a very hard wood.” He answered.

They finished out their kits and set them upon the workbench for quick retrieval in the morning, should the weather break.


Harlen and Hyandai entered The Pierced Boar just after sunset. The place was just now becoming crowded. Many huntsmen were in town tonight, as it was late fall, and most of them began to prepare for winter’s period of reduced hunting, as well as most other activities.

The year had been good to them, and most were quite ready for a long winter’s break from the routine of being alone for days on end. As they dined and drank together, there was a constant stream of other huntsmen sitting with them for a few moments, exchanging greetings, desiring to meet Harlen’s lovely companion, and to discuss matters important to huntsmen. Tammer would occasionally interject his own thoughts about the matters at hand, whether personal, romantic, or hunting.

“So, you and Hyandai leave on the morrow?” Tammer asked, having overheard them discussing their plans.

Harlen nodded, sipping his ale.

Hyandai smiled up at Tammer. “We will return as quickly as we can.” She said happily. “I think that I will be staying.”

A broad grin crossed Tammer’s wrinkled face. “That is glad news, Miss Hyandai.” He said. “This town could use with some beautiful women about.” This last earned him a glower from one of the barmaids that was within earshot. Tammer winced visibly at the young woman’s narrowed eyes.

“If you need an escort.” Tammer said. “I can scrape together some lads to accompany you to the border of the elven lands until you meet up with Hyandai’s folk.” His aged face showed great concern for their safety. He, naturally, was fully abreast of the happenings surrounding the couple and the Ehladrel.

Harlen shook his head. “We’re planning a rather stealthy approach until we come across people Hyandai knows will be friendly.” He explained.

Tammer clicked his tongue. “Stealthy approaches to the elven lands may not be a easy thing.” He said. “They’re rather masterful at it themselves.”

“I have something they don’t suspect.” Harlen said, grinning.

“Oh?” Tammer asked, raising one eyebrow, a trick with which he was the undisputed master.

Harlen put an arm around Hyandai’s shoulders. “Not everyone who tries to sneak into the elven lands has an elven princess to act as guide.”

Tammer chuckled at that. “Indeed they don’t.”

Hyandai coughed. “I am no princess, beloved.” She said quietly to Harlen. “I am a scribe.” Her face tight with discomfort.

“I’m sorry, angel.” Harlen said. “But I feel pride every time I think of you being beside me.”

She smiled at him, patiently. “I’m glad for that.” She responded. “But please do not heap titles upon me. I can just barely accept the ‘milady’s’ and the ‘Miss’’ people append to my name. I need not be a princess, I am happy being Harlen’s betrothed.” She kissed his cheek.

They finished their ales and sat a while longer, listening to the various yarns being spun by the other in town huntsmen about their near miss great scores. With each telling, Hyandai was sure, the wolf became larger, fiercer, and faster, too.

As they walked home, the rain having slackened to a slow drizzle. Hyandai was conspicuously aware of the weight of the Ehladrel upon her back.

“Harlen, even if the weather is poor tomorrow, I wish to leave.” She said. “The Ehladrel is too much at risk here. And it puts good people at risk, as well.”

Putting his arm around her waist, Harlen nodded. “I understand.” He finally said, after several paces were behind them on the road.

The combination of good food and ale made both of them quite drowsy when they laid in the bed. Hyandai sighed as she looked up at the ceiling. “What would you be doing now, if not for me?” She asked.

Harlen gave that a lot of thought, sitting in the one chair the room accommodated. “I would likely be at the Boar for another two hours, then I would stumble home and fall into the bed.” He finally replied.

Giving him a long look, Hyandai asked. “With a bar wench under your arm?” She grinned slightly.

“Probably not.” Harlen said distantly. “Believe it, or no, I never went to bed with any women born in this village until Wendy.”

Hyandai clucked at that, a habit she seemed to have immediately after being around Tammer for any amount of time. “Why do you not like the women of Morrovale?” She asked. “They seem fine folk to me.”

Another long pause followed her question, and Harlen gave it serious thought as he removed his boots. “I think, maybe, I prefer to avoid discomfort for them and myself, should the relationship not work out as hoped.”

“You spend much time protecting yourself, or your heart, rather.” Hyandai said, eyeing him critically.

“I don’t with you.” He replied, standing and removing his trousers and tunic.

He hung his sword belt upon the headboard post on ‘his’ side of the bed, the left side.

Her lips turned up ever so slightly at the corners. “Do you not?” She asked. “Have you not noticed that you have yet to ask me to stay with you? You seem to always wait and make me simply tell you my desires in it.”

His expression became considering. “I’ve never thought of that.” He said. “I thought I was simply not pressuring you into making choices you didn’t wish to make just yet.”

She shrugged. “It may be so, but it feels differently to me.”

A very long pause passed between them as Harlen thought back over the last few weeks. His mind ran through all the times they had discussed their future together, and all the reactions he had to the discussions. Was he shielding himself against rejection? He wondered.

Hyandai finally relented and sat up. She slid her legs off the bed and stood before him. “Kiss me, and think no more of it.” She said, putting her slender arms about his waist and ducking to slip under his arms. “I am yours now.” She added, pressing her lithe body to his.

With a small sense of relief, Harlen did as he was told.

They tumbled onto the bed as Hyandai pulled him off balance and let him land atop her, forcing the breath from her lungs. She moaned as his weight pressed her evenly over all her body.

She could feel his flaccid organ on her thigh and reached one hand down to stroke the side of the soft organ.

Harlen sighed contentedly as her lips moved over his neck and he felt her small, sharp teeth nibbling upon the cords of tendon that were tensed there as he pulled his head back.

His cock did not stay soft for long. The combination of the strong cinnamon scent coming from her fiery hair and the gentlest of touches from her fingertips were brining his organ to life quite quickly.

She smiled up at him. “Indeed, I love your response to me.” She said, her fingers now touching his swelling rod. “Are all humans so eager to make love?” She asked as he kissed her neck.

Harlen gave a curt nod. “Pretty much, yes.” He said. “But, I’m better at it.”

She giggled a little at his eager response. “Good to know.” Hyandai said. “I would hate to think I was not getting the finest I could.”

“You are.” Harlen said, his eyes full of sincerity. “Trust me.”

She slipped up the bed from him as he lifted his weight off of her to move. “Lie down, love of mine.” She said.

Harlen laid back his organ pointing up toward the ceiling. Hyandai moved closer to it upon her hands and knees, like a cat stalking prey. She kissed his thigh as she closed upon his swollen member. That kiss sent a jolt up Harlen’s tensed spine, and a tingle straight to the root of his cock.

Her tiny tongue slid over the soft skin of his manhood, trailing a thin glistening layer behind it. His cock twitched under her tongue as she moved over the head and flicked it around the base of the mushroom-like head.

A loud groan escaped Harlen’s lips as she engulfed the head with her soft lips, then pushed downward. Soon, most of his manhood was pressing into her mouth and she pulled back. Finding a good depth where comfort for her and pleasure for him met, she began to move her head up and down upon the shaft quickly. Kneading his balls gently with one hand and marking her preferred depth into her throat with the other.

Under her intense stimulation: Her tongue slipping over the ridge under the head, her suction, and her fast and eager motions, Harlen did not take long to spend. His hips bucked upward, and Hyandai moaned as her mouth filled with his seed. A few moments later, she lifted her mouth from his organ, swallowing as she looked up.

A rather suppressed part of Harlen’s own sexuality jumped at the sight of her openly and boldly making a show of swallowing his semen. When a small dribble of it ran from the corner of her mouth, he caught it with his fingertip. Hyandai looked at the finger and the errant semen upon it. She quickly and with apparent relish sucked the finger into her mouth, licking the tip free of the spend upon it.

Her playfulness in the bedroom was becoming more and more intense and more easily arrived at.

“Are you letting your fey loose more often with me?” Harlen asked.

Hyandai nodded, smiling. “I just hope, when it completely comes forth upon a time, it does not upset you.” She said.

He chuckled. “I doubt that will happen.” Harlen said.

Hyandai kissed his neck. “I hope not.” She quietly murmured into his neck. “For it will do so, one day.”

“I thought you found the taste rather lacking?” Harlen inquired.

She nodded. “Normally, yes.” She said. “But my fey has differing tastes.” An odd look overcame Hyandai, a predatory look, nearly. Her eyes flashed deeper green, almost hunter green to her normal emerald. “I could drink a mug of it.” She said, her voice rather husky and almost a half octave deeper. Then, visibly, she gave her head a quick shake and her normal eye color returned. “As I say, my fey and I are not always in full agreement.” Hyandai finally said, grinning embarrassedly.

Harlen pondered the implications of Hyandai letting loose an almost completely differing personality upon him. “Does your fey love me?” He asked.

Hyandai blinked a moment at that. “You wish to ask her?” Hyandai replied. “I cannot know for certain, it does not work that way with me, it is almost as if it were another person.”

“I think I shall wait to discover that secret.” Harlen said.

Hyandai giggled. “I can safely say that she desires you.” She said, nuzzling into the crook of Harlen’s arm.

“Wouldn’t a lust fey desire pretty much everyone?” Harlen goaded.

Kissing his cheek, Hyandai said. “Yes.” And laid back down. “At least those who are sexually desirable.”

“What determines that?” He asked.

She kissed his shoulder, and again nuzzled into him, a smile playing on her lips. “A pulse.” She said, finally.

Harlen smiled down at his lovely partner, and, if her words be true, future wife. “I love you.” He said.

She blinked at him once. “And I love you, Harlen.” She replied. She laid beside him as the candle lighting the room burned down, then winked out. He never saw the tears that welled in her emerald eyes that were unobtrusively wiped away.


The next day was better for traveling than the previous, barely. The clouds still loomed large overhead, but only dispensed an intermittent drizzle upon the village. Harlen and Hyandai both set out under the glowering sky.

But first, they had to bid their farewell to Harlen’s grandmother.

Gramma fussed over the two of them setting out under such miserable conditions. “I don’t see why you can’t wait for better weather.” She said, glowering out the windows of her tiny kitchen at the intermittent light rain.

“The people who attacked us two nights ago seek one thing, and that thing is not me, Maggie.” Hyandai explained. “The sooner the Ehladrel is removed from my life and care, the sooner I can live more normally again.”

Maggie nodded. “I understand that.” She said. “But this weather bodes ill for the trip from the very beginning.”

“We’re hoping that the people pursuing the Ehladrel will likewise be thwarted by the bad weather.” Harlen supplied.

“You’ll out clever yourself one day, Harlen.” Maggie said, chuckling. “I can tell you two headstrong kids are bent on this path. Do me a favor though.”

Hyandai smiled gently. “Anything, of course.” She said.

Gramma brought a small box that she had been holding in her lap, and slid it onto the table. It was made of thin wood planks, obviously local manufacture, when Hyandai slid it before her; she realized it was not secured. She opened it.

Inside was the spirit mask that had decorated Maggie’s mantle for many years. Hyandai inhaled sharply, then looked at the wizened lady curiously.

“Take it home. Find out who it belonged to, or is, or whatever they mean. Give the spirit that made it or needed it what it sought.” Maggie said. “I can’t bear knowing it may represent someone’s unfinished business.”

Hyandai nodded. “I will do so.” She said, slipping the box into her pack. Her face was very solemn. She had forgotten totally about the mask. They did represent something akin to exactly what Maggie was thinking, but Hyandai had not even given it that deep a thought, she was shamed by the old woman’s sensitivity to her culture and briefly wondered if maybe the elderly human loved elves more than Hyandai did.

It would not be hard at this point. Of the last several days, it had been elves causing most of her woes and hurts. Humans had been nothing but helpful and kind to her. This thought made her long for the comfort of her father, and her brother and sister. Elves she could place her trust in.

Maggie forced them to carry another two days worth of foodstuffs by stuffing half a wheel of cheese in Harlen’s pack and two ceramic jars of preserved peaches into Hyandai’s. Harlen bent and kissed his aged grandmother on the cheek.

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