Forbidden Sweets

BY : Dagian
Category: +G through L > Lineage 2
Dragon prints: 25
Disclaimer: I do not own Lineage2, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

She stood tall, waiting for the rest of her comrades with her silent companion. They were in one of the many hidden catacombs in the land. She could hear the battle cries of the Lilim Knights as they met their death by the hands of the other assorted warriors in the tombs. Sighing slightly, she shook her waist length golden hair back over her shoulders and idly twirled her sword in practice swings.

 

            He watched her as he always did. She was his obsession. Even when she was with the human male she seemed to like, he always watched her. Stretching quietly, so as not to alert her to his movement, he started to walk towards her, perhaps now was a good time to begin his game. As he was about to gain her attention, the rest of their party showed up. Hiding a disgusted look while he exchanged a few curt words with the new arrivals, he mentally cursed his luck. Shilien must surely be angry with him. He once again looked at her, only to find that she was engaged in a conversation with the hated human.

 

            “It will not work you know.” The female prophet said. She had seen him watching the female temple knight ever since she had joined the little group many moons ago. “She will fight you with every bit of her strength.” She grimaced, “She shouldn’t even be helping you or your friends either.” She stated, referring to the orc. “The Goddess of Eva would not be happy to know she is helping you.” His only reply was a derisive grumble, to low for her ears to catch, before he resumed his aggressive silence.

 

            Their conversation, if it could be called that, was interrupted as the sound of a magic spell broke the tense moment between them. The human male, a warlock, had summoned a magical cat do his bidding. The cat took form with a yowl and began to purr lightly. The elven female crouched down beside the cat and began to pet its soft white fur, all the while speaking in a soothing tone.

 

            At the request of the leader of the small hunting party, a human paladin, the orc motioned for everyone to gather round quickly as he began his chants for protection and strength. While he began his chants, the prophet also began to cast her own magic. 

 

As the chants and spells for protection came to a close, the elven knight stood up from petting the cat and quickly checked her swords. After taking a playful swing, missing the warlock by a scant few inches, she decided that they were in good condition.

 

The warlock gave a mock frown before lightly smacking her back with his staff, earning a giggle from the female as she raced away to follow the orc, paladin and prophet. He admired the view for a moment until he noticed that he was being watched. Looking to his left he saw that the phantom ranger, who had been brooding in a corner, was glowering at him from underneath his dark locks. The dark elven male had always made the human nervous, and he quickly broke eye contact with the intimidating dark elf and hastily caught up to the rest of the hunting party.

 

The phantom ranger grinned maliciously at the human males back. Deciding to have a little fun at the humans’ expense, he let a powerful shot loose from his bow, sending a powerful shockwave thundering toward the human and striking the cat instead. He watched in smug satisfaction as the human’s step faltered slightly, the cat was severely injured. Had the shot struck the warlock instead, it almost certainly would have been a killing blow. He ran up to the human and stood towering over him for several seconds, staring him down, before taking up a position a little ways behind the temple knight and began to fire arrows in rapid succession at the Catacomb Serpent she and the others were attacking.

 

The warlock stood glaring at the elf, the message had been well received.  He was loath to admit just how uncomfortable and alarmed he had been when he heard the mere sound of the shot the elf had sent after him. Deciding not to be intimidated easily, the warlock summoned a fireball and sent it rocketing past the dark elf. As he did so, he noticed that the dark elf was standing far closer to the elven female than was strictly necessary given the bows lengthy attack range.

 

The dark elf ignored the fireball rushing past him on his right side, even as it scorched his face slightly from its close proximity to him. The fireball might not have harmed him very much if it had hit, however, it was still a respectable attempt to threaten him. Obviously the human wasn’t as dense as he’d originally thought, he had clearly figured out the reason he’d been threatened. He played a deadly game with the dark elf and was well aware of it. They continued hunting without further incident for several hours.

 

Unbeknownst to the two competing males, the leader of the group, the paladin, had observed the entire confrontation from start to finish. Calling a break to the hunt for a brief rest while they contemplated on the success of the hunt, he called the warlock aside. While they were discussing the matter and whether it was wise for the young warlock to challenge the older dark elven male, the paladin observed the dark elf make his move. And judging from the sharp hiss of indrawn breath he could only guess that the warlock had witnessed it too.

 

While the elven female stood quietly studying the movement of the catacomb creatures, the dark elf came up behind her and wrapped his arms lightly around her waist and powerfully pulled her toward him. She stiffened in alarm, trying to pull away from him, before realizing that she was no match for his strength and giving up the fight. The years of drawing a powerful bowstring made him more than a match for her in upper arm strength.

 

The warlock studied them mutely for a second. While it was true the female was slightly relaxed after her brief struggle, she was obviously far from comfortable with the situation. One only had to look at the grip on her swords to determine this fact. Her knuckles were obviously bunched and had she not been wearing gloves, he was sure they would have been white. Her arms were also quite stiff, not allowing the swords to have a more relaxed position with the tips facing downwards.

 

Her mind reeled at the thought of who held her. She had known of his abnormal fixation with her, but had never thought him to be bold enough to act on it. It took everything she had to just stay still and to think calmly on how to get out of this situation. However, all thoughts ceased when he buried his face in her honeyed hair and inhaled deeply. She took in a sharp breath of air and further stiffened in his arms and he still refused to let go. The grip on her swords tightened even more as she began to slowly heft them higher, into a more aggressive position. Even though it would never work, the thought of simply whirling around and slamming him into the nearest wall with the blades crossed at his throat was becoming more appealing by the moment.

 

The dark elf smirked to himself as he felt her tense up. He was aware of the swords slow movement into a more attack ready stance, and he looked forward to it. The thought of taming the beautiful female was highly intoxicating. His lecherous thoughts were derailed however with the sound of a cheerfully purring, fluffy white cat. The cat ran in meowing circles around the pair, annoying the archer to no end before taking a playful swipe at the reluctant enchantress in his arms.

 

The female quickly took the opening given to her and pulled out of the opportunistic males’ arms and began to lightheartedly chase the cat before stopping to sit down and rest. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the warlock come and sit near her quietly. Without a word, she stood up and walked over to him and sat back down. They sat like that for a few minutes before the warlock shyly reached over and took her hand in his and was overjoyed when she twined her fingers with his.

 

Meanwhile, the phantom ranger stood in ominous silence, angered over her obvious rejection. It was only when five of her countrymen, who had been watching the entire scene out of sight unbeknownst to anyone in the group showed themselves, did he even begin to realize the deadly situation he had put himself in. All of the new arrivals were older, more experienced archers than him. They encircled him tightly while arming their weapons in an unmistakable promise. He had crossed a line and they had no intention of letting this offense go unchallenged.

 

The paladin, who had watched all of this, knew the five silver rangers were not going to leave until punishment had been exacted upon the offending dark elf. He gathered the rest of the group and pushed them deeper into the catacombs, leaving the ill-fated archer to fend for himself. He waited patiently for all of his charges to pass around the bend before him.

 

He noticed that the orc was torn between following his orders, and going to help his people’s longest ally. When he began to go back to the doomed archer, the paladin put his hand out, effectively stopping him. When the orc looked at him, he just slowly shook his head before saying, “You can’t help him. They won’t leave until their job is done.” He gave one last look toward his longtime comrade before heeding the human’s words and continuing into the catacomb.

 

 Just before the human began to follow after him, he heard the distinctive sound of bowstrings being drawn taut, the twang of release, and the inescapable finality of the magic laden arrows finding their mark, and a body hitting the ground. There was a moment of silence before he heard five sets of footsteps race away in the opposite direction and then all was silent once more, except for the lonesome cries of the catacomb creatures.



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