The Elven King (6 page)

She reached up to run her fingers along his chest. “Let me touch you,” she said.

Before Aranion could distract her again, Sade took used her free hand to grip his cock firmly. They were both damp with sweat, which was good because it made the area slick enough. She pulled her sweat-dampened hand over his hard flesh. He gasped, cock twitching, a bead of pre-cum flowering from the tip.

She wanted to taste it, so she shifted her body so she could lower her mouth onto his cock. First, she just ran her tongue over the tip. He groaned, thrusting his hips a little into her hand.

Pleased, she grabbed at his firm rear, and relaxed her jaw so that his cock could fill her mouth. The head of it pressed against the along the back of her tongue. His hips and rear were tensed in an effort to hold himself back, and she desperately wanted to break him of that control, to have fuck her mouth until she was choking on his need.

“Hmmm…” Sade hummed against his cock.

His entire body went rigid, and she realized dimly that he was digging his fingers into his upper thigh with enough force to draw blood.

“Stop!” Aranion gasped. He grabbed Sade by her hair and pulled her away.

Holding her by the hair, he took a couple of deep breaths, his legs shaking and cock twitching in the air. Then, he loosened his grip and kissed her again, her lips and jaw, before letting go her hair completely, as he nibbled gently around her breasts and nipples, tickling the sweet curves and valleys of her body until he was breathing just above her slit.

Sade spread her legs wide as he teased at the lips of her pussy. She was wet for him. Wet and slick.

He plunged his tongue inside, licking at her in enticing circles until his tongue caressed her clit. She gasped, rutting against his face as he licked and sucked her to greater and greater heights. She was wet, so wet, and she wanted him more than she had ever wanted anyone in her life.

It was too much. The orgasm ripped over Sade in a wave of pleasure so intense it was almost painful. Suddenly he was in her, pounding full and satisfying, his frenzied thrusts heightening the sensation, and all she could do was take him deeper, the walls of her pussy clenching and releasing around him like a promise. They were both making mindless, animal noises. He wasn’t holding back now. He fucked her as if to claim her, and she received him, took every part of him and made it hers.

They collapsed together.

A strange feeling came over her: like an ongoing, mild shock just beneath her skin. Aranion rolled to lie beside her, and she couldn’t stand for him to be so far away, so she curled herself up to her chest, not even minding the cooling stickiness that always came after good sex. No -- great sex. Incredible.

To tell the truth, she didn’t have any words to describe the experience.

Gently, Aranion stroked her hairline with his fingertips. It was a sweet gesture. But something in it made Sade feel sad. No… not sad; remorseful.

Some part of her -- the same part that had allowed her to see the portal in the mushroom circle that connected Aranion’s world to hers -- recognized that the emotion was not her own, but his.

Sade turned her head and kissed him. She wanted to tell him that he had nothing to feel sorry for. But how could she reveal that she was somehow feeling his emotions? Wasn’t that an invasion of privacy of the greatest degree?

Not now, she decided, letting her eyes drift shut. She was too tired to have such a serious conversation. And, in spite of the dangers that surrounded them, Sade felt safe in Aranion’s embrace.

Aranion woke to the unmistakable sound of hands clapping in slow, mock applause. 

“Kudos to you, Aran," said a familiar voice. "So this is how you’ve occupied yourself, while the whole kingdom scours the outer woods for your sorry soul.”

Even if Aranion hadn’t recognized the voice of his bond-brother Meldigur, the sharp-eyed elf was one of the very few who could have come so close without stirring Aranion’s defenses -- at least, under normal circumstances. Aranion had to admit that his defenses were not, right now, at their highest.

In truth, it was a stroke of luck that Meldigur had found them. Any other elf would have already bound Aranion with magic while he was slept, and dragged him back to the king without saying a word.

Sade stirred at the sound of Meldigur’s voice. “Aranion?”

“Not quite,” Meldigur said.

Sade’s body tensed, and her eyes opened. She curled in on her body in a futile attempt to cover herself. “Who are you, then? And would you mind giving us a minute to get dressed?” she demanded.

Meldigur burst out laughing. “Oh-ho! She’s a feisty one. Where’d you come across a mortal?”

“How is that your business?” Aranion asked, at exactly the same moment that Sade said, “He saved my life."

Before Aranion could speak, she went on quickly: "My ex was chasing me. He and I ended up crossing through your gate by accident. And when Aranion saw my ex chasing me, he stopped him before he could hurt me.”

Aranion was startled. Sade was telling a highly edited version of the truth, one that failed to mention his own crossing over into her world and skirted the fact that Aranion had killed the mortal. Sade’s story was almost to a lie. But it was a version that would protect him from punishment for what he’d told her was a crime for his people: crossing the Veil.

Meldigur turned to Aranion. “So, is that how it happened?” he asked.

Sade said, “Yes.”

Meldigur kept his eyes on Aranion, and gave him a long, searching look.
Finally, he nodded. “Well, she’s a pretty thing. Tell me you’ll share her,” he added.

“No!” Aranion placed his hand over Sade’s hip, pressing her closer to him. “Sade’s mine.”

Meldigur sighed. “You’ve always been so particular about your possessions...”

“Who the hell are you?” Sade demanded, sitting partway up and crossing her arms over her breasts. “I’m not anyone’s
possession
.”

“Say that again when the geis Aran put on you has been removed.”

Sade looked up at Aranion. His heart ached at the betrayal in her soft brown eyes. “I thought you said it was only so we could talk.”

“It
is
only so we can talk,” Aranion said. “You can understand Meldigur, can’t you?”

Sade’s eyes narrowed. She leaned close to him and whispered, “But, last night…what did you do to me?”

“No more than what you did to me,” Aranion said. He would have to tell her now, though he’d rather have done it while they were alone. 

“We’ve bonded,” Aranion said, reluctantly. “Well, in truth, there was already a bond set between us, and last night we consummated it.”

“What?!” Sade’s eyes widened. “What does that mean? What kind of bond?”

“Our souls called to each other across worlds,” Aranion said. “And now our souls are joined.”

Sade blinked at him. “So…it’s like we’re soul-mates?”

The words were correct, but the meaning that the geis ascribed to the word seemed slightly off. What they shared was more than a deep friendship. Aranion started to explain, “I’m not—“

“This is lovely, both of you,” Meldigur cut in. “And all very sweet. But Aran, do you have any idea what your father is going to do to you when he finds out you’ve formed a soul-bond with a mortal? And three days before your wedding?”

“Wedding?!” Sade sat up, dislodging Aranion’s hand from her hip and thus breaking the physical connection between them. “You’re engaged?”

“It’s not my choice!” Aranion tried to explain. “You have to understand—“

“I don’t have to understand anything. Hand me my shirt,” Sade ordered, pointing to the haphazard pile of clothes near the inner wall of the hollowed out tree in which they’d taken shelter. She glared at Meldigur. “And I’m not going to try and figure this out butt-naked in front of your friend.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble for me,” Meldigur said.

“Turn around,” Aranion said, putting venom into his voice -- his fury, not at his friend, but at the situation in which they were all now trapped. “I mean it, Mel.”

“If you try to escape," Meldigur said, "I will have to hurt you,” Meldigur said. "I’m taking liberties already, simply by talking with you.”

“I know,” Aranion said. 

For all of his games, Meldigur, truly was taking a risk by not bringing Aranion back immediately. He must not even have alerted anyone else, considering that none of the other rangers had yet arrived to his aid. 

“Just give us a chance to get clothed,” he requested. “I know we aren’t much for modesty, but it makes mortals uncomfortable.”

Meldigur hesitated. “I’ll do it, this once,” he said. “But if you run, I won’t make things so simple for you when I capture you again.”

“I won’t run.”

Meldigur nodded and turned his back.

Aranion wished he’d had the time to explain this entire thing thoroughly, and in the proper order. It was bad enough to have to shock Sade not only by informing her about their soul bond, but also immediately after the engagement. An engagement that, now, surely could not become marriage -- not with Aranion’s soul bound to another. 

As awful as it was to have been caught by Meldigur, to have dragged Sade into this mess, the bond they had formed might also be their way out. If Aranion was bonded to another, even if it was a mortal, he wasn’t free to wed Princess Lairelithoniel. How could she want a husband whose loyalties lay with someone else? 

Surely, all he would have to do was explain this and make them all understand. But first, he had to make Sade understand.

Aranion leaned over and grabbed Sade’s mortal clothing. The memories of the previous night seemed to cling to their alien textures, and Aranion felt himself stirring to shameful life as he handed her her things. He averted his gaze, and tried to distract himself by looking around for his trousers. Sade was right about not having this kind of discussion with his bond brother while naked.

When they had dressed, Aranion said to Meldigur, “You can turn around now." A thought occurred to him, and he added, "We have some soup. It will still be warm. Unless you’re going to drag us back now, before you’ve heard the whole story.”

Meldigur shook his head. “An hour or two won’t make any difference, so long as you give me your word that you’ll come back with me. Your word that you won’t run again until we speak to your father.”

Aranion took a deep, considering breath. Once he gave his word, he would be physically unable to go back on it. But what choice did he have? Meldigur had found them, and, with Sade to take care of, Aranion would hardly be able to throw off his bond brother. The only way he’d managed it the first time was because he’d gotten Meldigur drunk on moonflower wine and waited until his bond brother had fallen asleep before making his escape.

“You have my word,” Aranion said. 

The geis of his promise settled on him, and Aranion knew he’d lost his chance at escape. 

At least until he reached his father’s court. Until he spoke with his father... 

A man with whom he’d had five full conversations -- three of them regarding his wedding, in which Aranion’s concerns had been wholly ignored -- in the past ten years.

“Good,” Meldigur said. Aranion didn't feel so good about it, but he let it pass.

“Now," Meldigur went on. "I’m assuming you didn’t make away with a full set of utensils to go with that pot you stole?”

Aranion shook his head. He had his personal knife, a cup, and a single spoon, the last two of which he’d planned to give Sade when they shared their meal. “Just these,” he said, taking the cup and spoon from his pack.

“Well, I’m sure we can manage something,” said Meldigur. 

It was clear from his tone and expression that he intended to show off. Meldigur’s greatest talent was kenning: transforming one item into a perfect copy of another, at least for a short time. 

And show off he did. First, he took the spoon and cup and placed them on the ground. Then he quickly found two sticks and two stones of similar size to the cups and spoons.

He took the cup first, holding it between his palms and making his hands glow – a wholly unnecessary effect for a simple kenning task like this. Then he took the stones, one after the other and transformed them.

Watching a kenning was always a little strange. The object itself seemed to shimmer and turn into liquid as it re-formed; then it would once again become solid, and take on the exact appearance of the original, though the size might vary depending on the size and mass of the transformed object.

Sade gasped at the first transformation, which Meldigur completed with a complex fluttering of his fingers, as though the motion had extinguished the light.

“Stop fooling around,” Aranion said, not at all enjoying Sade’s rapt interest.

Meldigur ignored him, of course. He handed over Sade’s cup with a nod. “My Lady,” he said. “I would address you by your name, but I fear Aran might choke me where we sit -- and then where would we be?”

Sade took the cup. She held it up to the light and turned it around in her hands.

“That’s incredible!” she said. “It was a rock before, and now…” Her breath had quickened. She glanced at Aranion, and then back at the cup. “This really is magic, isn’t it?”

Aranion couldn’t help feeling some resentment. After all, he had crossed the border between worlds, vanquished her attacker, and brought her here -- and together they’d formed
a soul-bond… something far rarer and more precious than a mere kenning, no matter how masterfully performed.

“Oh, Aran looks like he’s swallowed a prickly-pear!” Meldigur said with a laugh. “Don’t worry, Aran. I’m sure you’re still first in her heart.”

As he spoke, he kenned the other objects with far less artistry. He handed Sade the second spoon, and took the third set for himself.

“All done,” he said, handing Aranion the cup and spoon he’d originally
brought. “Now, why don’t you tell us all about this soul-bond? And the rest of the tale?”

Aranion opened the elven pot, and poured the soup into three parts, into each of their cups. Half the pot still remained when he had finished. The pot was spelled so that the food inside would stay fresh and warm for days, and gentle wisps of steam floated up from the cups as they began to eat.