To Claim the Elvin Princess: Apprentice (23 page)

BOOK: To Claim the Elvin Princess: Apprentice
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40

 

 

Rasten had returned from his first foray and plunged back into his training. He had been among the Elvin nearly six months and had begun to master many of the skills he would need. His instructors were all exceedingly pleased by his progress, but were sparing in their praise. They were much more forthcoming with their criticism and encouragement, knowing what his potential was, and all determined to help him reach his father’s level of mastery.

Amein had simply smiled whenever he loudly complained and grumbled, having no hesitation to share how much she had suffered during her own long training, being held to much the same standards as Rasten was facing. During one long rant, where he was griping again about how difficult Master Roein had been during a long afternoon’s sweaty round of sword fighting, Amein had put her hands on her hips and delivered a wicked tongue lashing.

“You’d suggest that you’re less able and weaker than a mere female?!” she snipped, knowing that Rasten’s earthen upbringing had left him wickedly vulnerable to such an attack.  “Really? You’re less inclined to work, more lazy and inattentive than a little Elvin girl was?!”

“At least I haven’t been paddled with a sword!” he replied, knowing this was still a source of embarrassment to Amein.

“Have you been taken to her bed as a reward for doing well?” she slyly asked, hoping he would say no, but fully willing to bring it up and rub it in!

“I assumed you had forbid her to do such! You didn’t?”

“Rasten...not even I can tell Master Roein how to conduct her training! Neither did father! She is above reproach, the best in her craft...only a fool might think to tell her to change her ways...and I’m no fool!”

“But if she did...”

“I’d likely have a fit and make you miserable! I’m sorry, but such is likely true. Still, if she has you, you will not say no anymore than I did! Then you’ll get to see what a real bitchy Elvin female fit looks like!” she declared and laughed.

 

It was only a couple of days later when Rasten was reminded of this conversation when he was again at Master Roein’s, working hard to deal with her incredible speed and precision. Rasten had somehow managed to master the ability to stay focused, clearing his mind of all distractions, and letting his reflexes take command. He was well drenched in sweat, and vaguely conscious that all the other students had stopped their own practice to observe. They had been engaged for a time, both probing for the least opening or mistake and when the Master seemed to thrust a bit too loosely, Rasten unleashed a vicious counter at her. Roein looked shocked and took a step back, slapped her off hand on her right forearm, and looking in pain.

Fearing he might somehow have managed to cut her, he lowered his sword slightly and stepped closer. Master Roein launched a vicious high spinning kick at his head, which would have floored him if it had connected, but Rasten  caught and held her leg up high, countered and trapped her sword strike, and using his right leg, he swept her still planted foot out from under her. He landed on top of her, pinning her arms. He expected her to be shocked, but she was grinning delightedly.

“You nearly fell for my trap! It is well that you didn’t!” she suggested wickedly.

Rasten helped her up, and she sternly lectured her students on the necessity to never let their guard down for any reason while confronting an enemy. She assigned her helpers to finish with the students, and returned to Rasten.

“Come, it is time to reward your progress!” she insisted, leading him toward the back of her school. He soon found himself following her luscious, tight behind up stairs, to where her private quarters were located. She made short work of divesting both of them of their swords, and tugged on his hand, leading him to her bath.

“You stink...but that excites me! Still, I don’t wish to get the sheets sweaty, at least in this fashion!” she teased, unbuttoning his shirt. They made swift work of getting bare. Rasten noted a dozen hairline scars on her body, tracking some with a finger tip.

“I image each has a story?” he asked, knowing Amein had several too.

“Of course...I was a warrior a hundred years, before I began teaching others how to use a blade. My instruction is the result of a deep understanding, on how a sword should be used! You can’t read a treatise on swordsmanship and become skilled in the art!”

“I understand some of Amein’s small scars were inflicted by you?”

“Just as you’ve collected a few training ones! Pain is instructive...so is embarrassment!” she laughed. “Come, let us get clean, and I’ll show you another way to motivate a student!” she smirked.

They scrubbed each other, the intimate touching doing much to arouse them; by the time they were clean, and had slipped into the warm soaking pool, they gave in.

Master Roein sat astraddle of Rasten, and they pleasured each other quickly.

“You’ve learned well from Amein, how to handle a naught elf!” she whispered, delighted. “Your father was wickedly skilled, and more than one female begged to be had at his hands.”

“Were you one of them?” Rasten teased.

“I didn’t have to beg! But I would have!” she confessed, looking guilty even after almost five centuries. “Rasten, don’t think this will make your training easier...but it is quite an honor for me to train you! I worshiped your father as much as any of the Elvin did...” she sighed, looking likely to cry.

“I gather he was much admired, and missed?” He felt the Master nod, her face against his shoulder.

“It is hard to explain to any who did not see it, but Sayarin was as beloved as any elf might have been! His honor was impeccable, his...his decency and kindness were unequaled! I watched him pick up and comfort a small Eridian child, who’s father had just fallen to his sword...he cared so deeply for friend and foe alike, and all knew it! The Eridians were terrified of his skill, but all respected him, and I think he won some battles just because they wilted at the mention of his name! Only by Katurics sorcery was he overwhelmed!”

“Amein seems to be well regarded also?”

“She is much loved and admired, having no lack of judgment or wisdom, but she lacks some of Sayarin’s powers. That is why your ass is here!” Roein sighed.

“Not just to take care of naughty Elvin females?”

“It doesn’t hurt to do some of that either!” she confessed, a smug look well displayed. “Come, lets get dry and you can do more to address the naughty elf!” she laughed.

 

It was getting late when the master sent Rasten on his way, they having had each other several more times. Rasten dreaded returning to face Amein, but when he arrived he was relieved to discover she had departed earlier to see to events elsewhere in the capital, and had not been present since late afternoon. This let him avail himself of another bath, to rid himself of Roein’s female fragrance, and he was enjoying a late snack and studying when Amein finally arrived. His relieve ended soon after.

“What were you up to?” he asked, glancing up from his tome.

“I went to see to our Eridians, and to make arrangements of a more permanent nature for them. What kept you out late?” Amein asked, her back turned as she sat to remove her boots. Clearly she had been informed of this by others.

“I spoke long with Master Roein...I managed to beat her today, after almost falling for her ruse. We talked much of her feelings for my father,” he sighed, knowing that nothing he had said was a lie.

“Did you enjoy having her?” Amein asked casually, her voice controlled and precise.

“Of course I did,” Rasten replied, knowing that there was no way to answer that would evade her truth sense. “But mostly we talked. How did you know?”

“You admit to besting her. She would not let such a thing go without reward. She did much the same for me, when I did likewise!” Amein insisted, her voice becoming more strained as she spoke. Rasten stood, and moved close behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“How upset are you?”

“Why should I be upset?!” she shrieked, jumping up. Rasten made to move close, hoping to embrace and comfort her, but she backed away, arms raised.

“Don’t touch me! Leave me to my misery and distress! You shouldn’t have to put up with someone who can’t even master her own emotions!” she sobbed.

“Amein! Stop it! My feelings for you are not changed at all! I’m sorry you’re so upset...what am I supposed to do? I’ve done all I can to avoid the other females!” he sighed.

“Have you?! Master Roein isn’t the only one you’ve given in to, is she?!” Amein loudly demanded, detecting the lie in his words. “Who was it?!”

“The innkeepers daughter...and her mother, on the trip to A-Caridzia. I had not wished to tell you, to spare your feelings from any possible upset. It would be easier to say no, if the Elvin were not so determined!” he moaned.

“But they are, and will continue to be! I can’t bear this!”

“Come here!” Rasten insisted, growing frustrated.

“No...you can sleep with some other elf! I’ll sleep elsewhere!” Amein declared, shrill and petulant, before stomping off towards a guest room. She managed to slam the door, leaving Rasten standing, shoulders slumped and feeling tired. He was soon joined by a couple of their servants, who all seemed shocked, having never heard such a fit from any elf.

“Lord Rasten, is there anything we might do for you?” one asked, staring in the direction that Amein had gone.

“No...go to your rest...hopefully she will be better tomorrow.”

 

Amein had managed to reach the room before she burst into tears, throwing herself onto the bed. She hadn’t bothered to undress, instead tossing and turning, miserable, restless and upset, between bouts of tears. She managed to drift off at last, but was plagued by disturbing dreams, and each time she awoke, she was even more distraught.

What is wrong with me?! Is this just the result of being overly imprinted to Rasten, or is something worse happening to me?!
she wondered at one point, having no real understanding of how she could be so jealous and upset. She had never heard or read of such a calamity happening to any elf.
I can’t bear this! And poor Rasten...what if he tires of me being this way, and abandons me? What would I do then?!
she wondered, becoming overwhelmed by more tears.

 

 

41

 

 

In the morning, Amein had returned to the great hall, looking disheveled and unkempt. That she was distraught, even a blind person might have noted. Finding her mother absent, she randomly paced, wandering the halls, frustrated and tense. Finally, passing the door to the Eldar’s keep, she became inspired, and turned in, passing through the outer door quickly.

She was greeted by a young female, who blanched to see the Princess is such disrepair. She was even more shocked by her manner.

“I need to speak with Eldar Midarini...NOW!” she commanded, causing the young elf to jump and cringe.

“At once, Princess!” the hapless junior assistant squeaked, rushing into the inner rooms, to seek the Eldar, and to find out what to do with Amein.

Amein waited impatiently, scolding herself for her poor manners, but unable to overcome her emotions. She was soon ushered into the Eldar’s lair, and passing through a series of connected rooms, she emerged into the sage’s inner study.

“Ahhhh, our dear Princess is upset!” he declared, reading her as easily as one might read a cranky two year old with a full diaper.

“Of course I’m upset! What I don’t understand is why!” she shrieked, on the verge of tears. Midarini stepped close, taking her face into his hands. Holding her immobile, he looked deeply into her eyes, holding her until she was mesmerized and completely still. When he finally broke the spell, and moved, he sighed deeply, tousling her hair.

“It is as I warned you. You are helplessly infatuated with Rasten. Seeing him even touch another sets you on fire with jealousy, does it not?”

“I am ashamed to admit this, but yes, I seem utterly consumed by it. Even when I’m angry with him, and want nothing to do with him, I can’t bear to think of him lying with another female, elf, half-Elvin or human. I have never known such evil passions, as might be more common among the humans, but is never witnessed among our kind! This is unbearable!” she moaned, crying helplessly.

“I did warn you, of this that you risked, in imprinting him to you. You seem more imprinted than he!”

“It is so! He has no hesitation or inability to be with another, yet I am now...I seem incapable of deriving any pleasure from another, even ones I’ve enjoyed for decades!”

“Why does this make you so angry? Does he refuse you his attention? Has he been with someone else?”

“Master Roein had him, as she is wont to do, and at least two others! But that is not the worst! I feel that any might find my jealousy unworthy of me! I feel diminished as a Princess, crippled and less whole than I should feel! I can’t help thinking my people will mock me behind my back, for this flaw,” she sighed.

“I would suggest you are being small and spoiled, acting like a ten year old child, denied something they want!” Midarini suggested, smiling. This outraged Amein even more.

“How can you accuse me of such folly?!” she loudly demanded.

“Perhaps because it is true?” he asked gently. “Sit,” he ordered, gesturing at a soft chair. Pulling one close, facing her, he did likewise.

“You are much caught up in your opinion of yourself, placing great stake and even greater pride in your linage and birth. To a point, this is honorable, and proper. But when being less than perfect threatens to destroy your entire world, you’ve drifted into a place of folly. Your people don’t admire you because you are flawless, dear Amein, they admire that you rise above your folly and failings, to do right, and strive to overcome that which is evil. There is no shame in being less than perfect, but much shame in thinking you are perfect!”

Amein felt as though she had been slapped, and slapped hard. The words echoed some her father had once spoken, which she realized, much to her embarrassment, she had failed to remember.

“But why do I feel so ashamed to have the people look upon me...I never felt thus before!”

“You never had such a reason to doubt yourself! Feeling helpless to your emotions makes you feel unworthy and of lesser constitution than you imagine your people expect of you...yes?”

Amein shrugged, looking at the floor. “I wonder why any would follow me, when I can’t even master my own feelings!”

“What does Rasten speak of such matters?”

“He is not a reliable witness, being himself much addled over me!” she suggested, peeking at Eldar Midarini, and showing a small grin. “Still, he seems much in awe of me still, but I’m sure that has more to do with my femaleness, than my ability to lead!”

“You are likely wrong about that, too. He is a deep and stunningly wise young man, being much like his father, supremely deep and able to see the heart of both people and events. I believe he responds to your strength and abilities, more than to your abilities when naked! He could easily have as many as he desired, yet he remains partial to you, even as you work hard to drive him away, or make him miserable!”

Hearing this spoken, which seemed to confirm her deepest fears, she cried again, hugging herself, miserable. When she had finally stopped, and wiped her face, she looked at the Eldar, and nodded. “Perhaps you are correct, no matter how much I desire not to see it!”

“This is not the only thing you fear, dear Amein, and choose to avoid considering,” the Eldar suggested ominously.

“What could be worse than
this
?!” she moaned, and then was forced to wait uncomfortably for the Eldar to reply.

“Amein, have you considered what you might do, when the end comes for Rasten?” he asked, leaving her sitting, looking more shocked than if he had impaled her with a spear. She sat, transfixed, struggling to even breathe.

“Perhaps now you see more clearly why the Elvin kind avoid serious involvement with humans or half-Elvin?” he suggested. The half-Elvin at best might live a mellinia. The idea that she would lose Rasten to this, whereas she was destined to live on, perhaps thousands of years after his passing, was now too terrible to even contemplate. She would have collapsed on the floor, had the Eldar not caught her, weeping as though she might die.

“I...I can’t...bear...this!” she sobbed, for the first time seeing the thought what she had worked assiduously to avoid even forming within her mind. “I have doomed myself!” she cried, looking at the Eldar miserably.

“You have doomed yourself to loving someone, whom you will eventually lose. You will not be the first to do this act, and suffer from it. Do you think your mother does not ache still for your father, who died quite young by immortal standards, while doing great things?!”

“But she seems to have moved past her grief, and goes on, living and loving anew!”

“Perhaps you should speak more honestly with her? Her wound is deep and likely will never completely heal. It is thus for many of our people. Should you fall in battle, do you think Rasten would shed no tears, and move on easily?”

“No...I’m sure it would be terrible. At least I’d hope he would miss me!’ she complained, pouty and concerned. She suddenly looked amazed, and blushed fully.

“If one has no love, they would not miss another! The greater the love, the greater the pain which their loss inspires! Why did I not understand that!” she grumbled, feeling shallow and ill informed.

“Likely because you are young, and of limited experience. Your love of Rasten will give you much joy, and many cuts and scars, being destined to be much deeper and magnificent than what most are blessed with,” he suggested.

“Or doomed to,” she sighed. “
Misarinade!”
she whispered suddenly, the name of the legendary Elvin queen of lore, who had, the stories told, fallen in love with a mortal, and was so grieved when he passed, that she killed herself in her despair.

“You are undeserving  of such a fate, being strong and able to grow past your fears and weakness. Amein, your destiny is not failure and grief, but love and greatness. I sense within you heroic things, of which the storytellers will sing, long eons in the future. And your ability to rise above your fear, and to love beyond all others, will be much of what gains you renown!” the Eldar declared, sure and unshakable. “Rasten too, will be renowned, as one of the great warriors. You two shall live far beyond this life and world!”

“Does your sight see this?” she wondered, wanting desperately to have something noble to cling to.

“Perhaps it does, but I am more sure of what my heart and soul can sense. No one will ever know your secret shame or fears, Amein, Sa-Tarin lo Ameinidine, the Princess of the Morning Star. You will stand tall, and do as you should, and be all that you fear you are unworthy of. I am sure of that! You are your father’s daughter.
That
is your fate! You will make him proud...” the Eldar sighed, seeing the light once again glowing in Amein’s eyes.

 

Later, when she finally spoke to her mother, she re-counted the Eldar’s words, and confessed her own fears and foolishness. She had availed herself of a bath, and had looked more like a proper princess, dressed elegantly in a soft long gown. Hearing her speak, her mother listened mostly in silence, until she wound down.

“There is a reason that Madarini is the Eldar of our clan, and you would be wise to listen fully to his words!” Haiveiri declared, her words emphatic and sharp. “He is...correct in his assessment of my pain, of which you have not thought to ask; you have not done so not from being insensitive, but to avoid confronting your own loss and pain. You are quite young to have lost your father, and are nowhere near mature enough to deal with it wisely!” the older Elvin woman softly proclaimed. Amein’s face showed the truth of this rapidly, her creamy white skin blossoming into a deep pinkish hue.

“I’m sorry, dear mother, you have named my guilt well,” she sobbed, overcome with misery. “I miss him so much, and am terrified that he would not look with pride upon my efforts!” Haiveiri embraced her daughter, rocking her as she would a small child.

“It is that wherein you are mistaken; he would be so pleased by your deeds! You are in all ways, a worthy Elvin princess. Even in your desire and love for Rasten, you exhibit a spacious and monumental reach for something greater than what the ordinary being chooses! Even naked, you excel in Elvin naughtiness!” her mother suggested, which made Amein laugh through her tears.

“It will be my fate to have a statue of me erected, naked, and declaring my lust? I’m not sure I’d hope for such a thing!” she sighed.

“I suspect it would at least be an honest declaration; your passions are strikingly strong compared to most, aren’t they, daughter?”

Amein looked at the floor, such a comment from her mother seeming somehow too embarrassingly honest. “Perhaps. But now I seem doomed to only be inclined to have Rasten. What wisdom do you have for me regarding that?” Haiveiri gazed at her a moment, an impish grin blossoming.

“If it aides your heart, I must tell you, that I went through a similar period with your father. I wanted no one else, although he remained eager to have others. I eventually grew past it!”

“How?! I can imagine nothing, which might change my feelings!” Amein insisted, frowning.

“Your father finally tired of my jealous fits, and invited others whom we were close to and cared deeply for...he had them join us, to play. I found being had by these ones, with him close, was not so evil, and as time passed, I regained my interest in the normal Elvin play. Part of what makes you jealous is the foolish notion, a fear really, that Rasten might abandon you for another. Tell me you don’t fear that?”

Amein sat, shocked, at this, a thing she had wanted to not address. She finally shook her head.

“I...I can not deny this! I have never felt this way!”

“You’ve never loved anyone this strongly; the Elvin seldom do, Amein. This is what plagues the humans, and makes them so prone to jealousy and its wicked consequences.”

“Mother! I’m far too old to be this uninformed and ignorant! Why did I not understand this?!”

“Perhaps because you didn’t wish to? My daughter is a headstrong young female, stubborn and prone to sometimes lying to herself, over things she wishes to avoid dealing with.” This did nothing to make Amein feel better. That she suddenly realized it was mostly true hurt even worse. “I don’t see you inclined to dispute that?” her mother added pointedly.

“No, although I want too. Eldar Midarini exposed much of my foolishness earlier, saying I was prone to think too much of myself, by wanting to regard myself as perfect. I’ve not much enjoyed my day, if you’d like to know...” she moaned.

“It was time for you to hear such advice. You face many trials and much grief, as you lead and battle evil, Amein. It is dangerous to have a false sense of oneself when confronting great tasks. Your father taught you this, did he not?”

“Yes mother, he did. Apparently I need to remember his teachings better?”

“Better? I’d suggest you review them, so as to recall them at all! You’ve let several of them slip away, haven’t you?”

“Perhaps I have. I wish he was here to repeat them!” she confessed, wistfully, while hugging herself.

“I’d suggest you’d not want that; he’d likely turn you over and paddle your bare behind!” Haiveiri declared, patting Amein’s cheek.

“Perhaps I should beg Rasten to do so to my bottom? I’m sure he would oblige, after all the aggravation I’ve caused him!” she suggested, grinning.

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