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Ceald Amothien	By : wanderingaddict Category: +M through R > Neverwinter Nights Views: 7242 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Neverwinter Nights, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
Well! I'm awfully pleased you guys like the "down and dirty" chapters so much! You guys are all so fantastic for reviewing, I just gotta stress how much each review means to me. Your words are just so helpful and give such a good feeling! It's a sure way of letting an author know that you appreciate his work, ya know? Heh, anyways, thanks again. I mean it.

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This room wasn’t
the one I’d fallen asleep in. Blazing torches burned where soft
glowshards had shone before, and the graceful, ebony furniture was
gone. The walls were bare, with only the vague suggestion of detail, and
the ceiling was formless and gray, as though it were a mere
afterthought. A pair of thick stone pillars had grown at the corners
of the dais, vaulting the roof even as the bed seemed to slide away
from the wall behind me. I didn’t bother masking my show of
surprise at finding myself someplace else so suddenly. Alone, save
for the dark elf who looked mildly amused at my confusion.

“What is this?”
I asked warily, keeping one careful eye towards the drow Queen while
I watched another pair of pillars grow between the dais and the
now-distant wall. In less than a minute three of the gray, stone
walls had melted into marble black, momentarily adorned with flecks
of ornate lintel before they fuzzed and morphed into something else.
Only the torches remained the same, though even those flickered and
dimmed, brightening when they slid along the walls. Reality had a
tenuous grip in this world, it seemed.

The dark elf smiled,
secure in my apparent ignorance. “Do not worry, rivvel.”
Her voice was smooth and soft, a supple, feminine tone that teased
the ears. Giving the room a cursory glance, she shrugged slightly,
and smiled again as she slinked forward. “This is merely a
Dream. I cannot harm you here.”

A lie. Or, at least, a
hedging of the truth. I tensed as she neared the edge of the bed,
crouching and obviously prepared to spring away. The dark elf
frowned, her eyes innocently wide and glinting a deep red as she thrust
her lip out in a pout. “There truly is no need to fear,
rivvel,” she said, her hand touching her chest in mock affront.
“I cannot cast a single spell here, in this Dream. We are
outside the boundaries of Faerun, in a world that does not follow the
same laws of magic that we do.”

I narrowed my eyes at
her, but didn’t say anything. The knowing look in her gaze as
she added that last bit had made it clear that she knew I was just as
helpless as her without my spells to back me up. I didn’t even
have to reach for the Weave to know that it was gone. While it was
unnerving to be so aware of its loss, I still settled back,
pretending not to notice the way sheets slid across the bed and
wrapped around my waist even as the ceiling sank and the fat pillars
surrounding the dais thinned. It was a small risk, exerting my will
like that, but one I was willing to take. I hadn’t exactly
reached the point where I was comfortable being naked in front of
those whom I knew wanted to kill me.

Luckily, the dark elf
didn’t seem to think anything of the sudden appearance of
sheets on the bed. “Vendui, surfacer,” she said, her head
gave only the slightest tilt in greeting. Her crocodile smile flashed
a row of off-white teeth. When she spoke, it was with a tone of
command, the voice of a woman used to having her every order obeyed to the
end. “I greet you. Are you aware of whom I am?” She
arched a brow.

Really, could there ever be
a doubt? Her skin was a pale purple, rare enough among dark elves,
and her wide eyes a noticeably deeper, richer red than any I had
seen in Lith My’ather. “Well,” I drawled, easing
back as she neared the bed. “I would assume that you are the
Valsharess.” The torches along the far wall slid to the floor
and then drifted sideways as their flames flickered with a purple
hue. In the darkening light, I caught a hint of something pleased in
her smile.

The Valsharess,
self-proclaimed Queen of the Drow.

Lloth, the callous,
evil, Mother Goddess of the Dark Elf race, had been silent for the
last twenty years, unwilling, or perhaps unable, to answer her
priestesses’ prayers. Her clerics, having ruled the myriad
city-states with iron-clad fists for millennia, were left powerless,
and in drow society, those without power were dead. In the sudden
vacuum left behind, a thousand new factions had poured forth, more
than ready to repay the drow for the centuries of domination and
cruelty they had inflicted upon themselves and their neighbors. From
the way Nathyrra had spoken of the subsequent wars, the whole of the
Underdark was thirsting for dark elf blood. Duergar, deep gnomes, the
subterranean orcs- and any other race unfortunate enough to have been
enslaved or driven from ancestral lands- had returned with a
vengeance, laying into the dark elves with centuries of repressed
hatred. They had been kept ground beneath the refined boots of the
drow race by a combination of superior armaments and magic, but now
that Lloth was gone the playing field was suddenly a lot more level.
After all, the key difference is that all the other races had a god
on their side: the dark elves were the only ones who didn’t,
and sometimes, that was the only thing that mattered.

Almost all divination,
all planar spells, all healing magic, had been stripped from the dark
elf ranks. Their leaders- the cruel, black-hearted priestess of
Lloth, the rulers of nearly every house, every city- had been
hard-pressed to stop the city-states from crumbling altogether. Even
on the surface I had heard of the fall of the great Ched Nasad, and
other cities like it, cities that weren’t as defensible, as
armed or as capable as the holy city of Menzoberazzan, Lloth’s
capitol at the heart of the drow lands.

Some cities had even
fallen from within. Male wizards, long oppressed by the better
organized and more powerful priestesses, had turned tables too, ready
to repay their mothers, their sisters, for the centuries of cruelty
and torment. A few priestesses, however, had abandoned their faith
altogether and sought new sources of power. The minor goddesses, the
Revanancer, Kiaransalee, and the ice-witch, Auril, had been poised
for just such an occasion, and had taken entire cities for their own.
Some women though, forsook the gods entirely. The Valsharess was one
such priestess. The Seer said that the Queen had been no more than
the nameless matriarch of a minor house before her sudden rise to
power.

Upon meeting her in
person, I could see why such a woman had risen so far in just a few
short years. She held her head high, and though she tried to hide it
behind a mask of demure want, a hint of calculating guile still
shown. The Valsharess, clad in her bone armor, her fighter’s
body muscled and taut, radiated the cool self-assurance of one born
to command.

Eager anticipation
swelled in my chest, though I couldn’t tell if it was from
Halaster’s curse or if it was my own. This was the very woman I
had been bound by geas to kill. I was the one she herself had
foretold would bring her death. I hadn’t expected her to be the
one to come to me.

Her hips swayed as she
slunk towards the foot of the bed, the dark elf’s long, supple
legs surprisingly dainty when compared to her muscular torso. An
open-mouthed grin parted her lips. “Indeed I am. You have
proven a most frustrating adversary, rivvel, one worthy of my,”
she inhaled, “Personal attention.” She fell silent to let
her words sink in as she stopped at the foot of the bed, one hand
landing on a jutting hip and gesturing vaguely with the other when
she started to speak.

“In all honesty,
I must say that I am impressed. You have quite quickly managed to
deal with every challenge I’ve set in your path.” She
paused, frowning momentarily before speaking. “I do hope that
you’re not getting the wrong idea though. Slaughtering the
illithid colony was no mean feat, but I could care less about their
disposal. Actually, I suppose one could say that you were doing me a
favor. I would have had to deal with them sooner or later. The same
applies to the beholder hive and those crazed necromancers in
Drearing’s Deep.” The Valsharess’s smile turned
condescending as she briefly examined one red-lacquered nail. “The
only reason I had allied with them at all, rivvel, was to expedite
their extermination,” she added, offhand. She studied me out of
the corner of one ruby-red eye under the guise of checking her other
nails for flaws. “Do you have a name? Or must I simply keep
addressing you as rivvel?”

“Surfacer”
in the drow tongue wasn’t bad, as far as names went. I briefly
considered keeping quiet, but if I kept her talking, perhaps she
might end up saying just a tad too much. It could work- most drow
were confidant enough of their own superiority over any other race.
“Christovel,” I said, slowly, a note of caution in my
voice and a wary look on my face.

“Christovel?”
she chimed in surprise, cocking her head. I couldn’t tell if
she believed me or not. After a moment of scrutiny she straightened,
the clever little smirk finding its way back to her face. “So
be it then. Finally. A name to put to those beautiful green eyes I
know so well.” The Valsharess hummed as she sat down on the
edge of the bed, innocent and careless, even tucking one leg under
her butt, though she still made sure to keep her front towards me.
“I’ve dreamt of you for so long now, you know,” she
cooed, tilting her head. “This hair, those eyes…”
Her gaze flickered down a second, before she glanced back up with a
coy grin on her face. “That body.” She hummed again. “I
am pleased we finally meet,” she said, her voice going low when
she added, “Christovel.”

Obviously she wasn’t
above using baser means to get what she wanted. Not that I was
surprised. She’d been a Matriarch before she became Queen,
after all, and drow matriarchs were the most amoral and cunning of
all. What she wanted specifically though, and from me in particular,
I still needed to know.

The drow Queen was
quick to enlighten me, however. “You have proven yourself
worthy to me, Christovel.” She straightened, her sultry voice
turning slightly imperious again. “A powerful male able to
shake all of the Underdark before him.” Her gaze was hard and
calculating as she tried to gauge my reaction, but her voice
quickened with passion as she spoke. “Together, our power would
be unstoppable. All of the earth-locked states, the dwarves, the
gnomes, even Menzoberazzan- everything would fall! With you at my
side, the Underdark would be ours!” She trailed off a moment,
pausing to wet her lips. In the flicking light of the torches on the
walls, her red lips glistened. It was probably meant to be seductive,
but in the unreality of the Dream, the saliva on her lips looked more
like blood. The Valsharess inhaled, her breasts nearly spilling out
of her strange, necrotic armor before the dark elf’s ruby eyes
flicked back to mine. She leaned forward slightly, raising one brow.
“…and why would we need to stop there? The surface world
could be ours as well. What do you say to that, Christovel?”
she asked, her voice lilting as she tilted her head.

Ah. “Join you?”
I laughed, incredulous. “Why? The way I see it, we’re
winning.” Well, that, and the fact that she had already sent
assassins to kill me multiple times.

Something dark
flickered across her face before she caught herself and leaned back,
scoffing. “You mean that little battle the other day?”
She waved one hand dismissively. “Hardly even a setback. It
really was just an excuse to remove the filth from the surrounding
caverns.” The dark elf crossed her arms primly, her eyes
flashing as she continued, “I am the Valsharess, Christovel.
Already, my word is law in both Chaulssin and Abburth. There is no
woman greater than I in all the Underdark, for no other woman has
bound an archdevil as I have.” Pausing suddenly, she seemed to
remember her original goal and sank back, her voice losing some of
its iron tone. “You have power, Christovel; I can feel it, just
as I know that you can feel mine.” The light glinted off the
polished, blackened bones lining her armor as she shifted closer.
“I’m sure you know what you’re capable of by
yourself. Just imagine what we could do…” she breathed,
her voice trailing low. Her eyes flicked up and down to my chest once
more before she added, “Together.”

I’d only been
listening with half an ear, more intent on outlining the extent of
her strength. Carefully extending my senses, I tried digging into the
source of the power thrumming at her core. A potent priestess; she
appeared to be one of those rare few born to serve the gods.
She would have progressed far in her service to Lloth. Something
stirred beneath her skin, however, something not-quite-akin to the
divine. I was barely able to contain my surprise when I recognized it
as the fel magic that poured from the Hells. That explained it then,
the real reason she’d bound the archdevil to her cause. The
Valsharess hadn’t been relying on him specifically- just using
the creature’s strength as a font of magical power. Excitement
practically buzzed through my blood. So many questions had been
answered by that single little probe. The reason her clerical spells
were still charged was because she was draining energy from him, and
through herself, to the Red Sisters. No wonder they were so fanatical
in their worship of their new queen. She was the sole reason they had
any power to speak of.

And this fiend she’d
summoned- I’d often questioned why she had never placed him at
the forefront of her army. An Archdevil, one of the nine Lords
of Hell. For all my magical prowess, I could not even dare to dream
of taking one on alone, and yet somehow this dark elf before me had
managed to do so and not only live, but bind him as well. If she had
simply been draining him instead, then he would be trapped in
the original Circle of Binding he’d been summoned in, something
that was permanent, and not easily removed.

There had to be more to
her than met eye. “Betray my friends?” I laughed, pushing
a slight bit of incredulousness into my voice as I continued to test
and probe with tiny little pricks. “Betray the Seer and the
rebels?” I held her gaze, a half-smile on my face, even as the
greater part of my mind focused at rooting out what it was she’d
used to bind the devil to her will. An amulet, a ring, anything that
could serve as the key she used to attune herself to whatever binding
she’d used to control the Hell Prince she’d summoned. She
had to have it on her, there was no way the woman would let anything
so powerful stray from her sight. Even in sleep. I spun my senses out
to sort through the myriad enhancements to her boots, her bracers,
her earrings and the bones sewn into her breastplate.

The dark elf stared at me and scoffed. “You believe they
hold you in high regard? You believe that they actually like you?”
Her laugh was full of contempt. “Don’t be simple,”
she sneered, “They are drow, Christovel, the same as I.
They find you useful. When you are done, they will be done with you.”

Cruel words, and
probably true. They didn’t affect me though. Aside from the
Seer, Nathyrra, and Valen, I had no attachments to any of the rebels
either. Listening with one ear, I feigned surprise and interest as I
struggled to discern the meaning of the enchantments spelled into the
blackened bones decorating her chestpiece. Most of the spells so far
had been the usual, run of the mill enhancements; armored resilience,
cat’s grace and the like. The drow Queen was still chuckling.
“They can’t help it, it is in their nature to cast things
aside,” the Valsharess said, reflectively. Her eyes sharpened
again, hard and challenging. “You are smarter than that, Christovel…
are you not?” The dark elf cocked her head, the crimson paint
on her full lips glistening as one of the torches brightened and
dimmed. She paused and looked contemplative, as though about to
impart some great secret. “I am not exaggerating when I say
that you have impressed me, ri- Christovel,” she said, almost
catching herself too late. The drow smiled, sheepishly, but
continued. “There is much we could teach each other,
Christovel. Together, the rewards are... limitless.” Her
breathy voice turned soft and petulant towards the end, and she
pouted as she leaned forward, the round globes of her pert, purple
breasts nearly tumbling out of her armored corset. They were
beautiful breasts, to be sure, but the glint of something red,
something dipped in puissant force, caught my attention.

A brilliant ruby swung
between her breasts, held in place around her neck by some dark metal
I didn’t recognize. The majority of the medallion, set with
bits of smaller gemstones, garnets and topaz and the like, was
nothing. Eye-catching and ostentatious, and easily dismissible as any
of a thousand other tawdry, enchanted pieces of metal junk. The real
treasure, however, lay in the subtle enchantments around the ruby
itself. It was all I could do to hide my excited grin. After all,
what better place to hide the key to one’s power than right in
plain sight?

My eyes flicked back to
her face. “I'm really not interested,” I said, my voice
falling flat.

She blinked, sheer
disbelief in her eyes, before her lips twisted and she struggled to
contain a snarl of rage. I tensed, ready to lash out, but the dark
elf managed to compose herself in record time, grimacing as she stood
from the bed. “Then join me because it is the intelligent thing
to do.” Her voice was cold, and her hard gaze promised
retribution. “Do you really think you can succeed with only
these pathetic rebels to aide you? I have summoned an Arch-Devil,
rivvel,” she snapped, “Mephistopheles himself bows to my
will. Do you honestly think you can stand where he could not?”
Clutching the whip at her waist, her hands clenched in fists, she
nearly shook, her rage a palpable force. “Do you think yourself
so mighty that you could even defeat him? Do you know what devils do
to the souls of the fallen?” A sneer twisted her lips as she
snarled, her voice dangerously low. “What I’ll have him
do to yours? Make no mistake, rivvel. You cannot hope to defeat me.”

I hadn’t
anticipated such anger. The far corners of the room blurred harshly
as her rage grew. In a world where one’s will was reality,
emotions could slide through fundamental laws like a hot knife
through butter.

Her eyes blazed, and I
couldn’t help but feel a tickle of pride swell up in my breast.
She was only raging at the audacity of a male, a surfacer male at
that, daring to oppose her whim. I was hard-pressed to keep the
wicked grin off my face. The drow Queen truly had no idea what I had
in store for her.

“Well, you see,”
I drawled, drawing out each word out as I casually glanced to the
side. “All I really need is the right moment to strike.”
I’d said it so flippantly that there was a brief moment where
she simply gave me a quizzical look before realization dawned, and by
then it was too late. I’d spent too much time familiarizing
myself with the Dream. The flickering flames of the torches lighting
the room flared.

The Valsharess
screamed, rearing back with an arm raised to shield her sensitive
eyes. I had blinded myself with the light too, light far brighter
than any I’d seen in the last month below ground, but I was
prepared and didn’t need my eyes to know what I was doing
anyway. I had to act quickly, spinning my thoughts out in all
directions and forcing the Dream to adhere to my will. The sound of
metal tearing itself through stone filled the room. After that
instant of pain from the searing light, the dark elf recovered
herself enough to strike back. The torches guttered out.

The sudden plunge into
darkness was just as jarring. Blinking rapidly, I tried to hold the
image of the newly configured room in my mind, even as I struggled to
add some new source of light. An abrupt cry ended my worry though,
and the torches flared back to life on their own.

Barbed wire had been
strung throughout the room, in a thick mash of metal and dangerous
spikes. It dangled from the ceiling, curled around various pillars
and cut off every possible exit, both above and below. It gleamed in
the light, stretched taut from wall to floor to ceiling. The
Valsharess had stumbled into a messy patch of it in the dark, the
reason for her cry and the explanation as to why she had released her
grip on the torches. She swayed unsteadily, precariously balanced
between wires cutting perilously close to her arms, knees and face.
Blood was already dripping from several barbs, the twisted little
spikes leaving long lines of red across her bare limbs.

Snatching at
opportunity, I snapped the wires tight, the dangerous barbs moving
even before I’d moved my hands to mimic the thought. The drow
Queen reacted quickly, however, far faster than I had anticipated.
White vapor whispered from her hands as she spun to face me, snaring
the chains and instantly freezing them in place with ice so cold I
could hear the metal crack. She flexed, the brittle chains snapping
harmlessly before the pressure from her hands and legs.

Apparently the dark elf
was a little more competent than I had thought. Reacting quickly, I
threw one hand out and melted the ice. A torrent of swirling water
gushed into the room, slamming into the walls and crashing aimlessly
before I harnessed its strength and looped it about, sending the
crushing wall of water straight for the Valsharess. She stood her
ground, calmly, waiting until the water had arced upwards to bring
itself crashing down upon her head. When the torrent was less an inch
from her face she acted, a raging inferno of pure flame ballooning
outwards in a protective sphere. Hissing steam filled the room.
Riding the water’s current, I leapt through the opening in her
shield, having already expected her to counter with flame. The dark
elf was ready for me though, her white-blonde hair flying as she spun
and kicked out, her foot nearly striking my ribs as I surged through
the gap in her defensive fire.

It was only because of
quick thinking and a quicker reaction that I didn’t feel her
armored boot connect to my chest. I had caught sight of her lavender
face just as I rode the wave in, and it was obvious enough that she
had been ready and waiting for the second attack. Planting a hand
against the ground just as I twisted past, I snapped the remaining
waves into motion in a last-ditch attempt to salvage something of
the offensive advantage. The Valsharess shielded herself in time,
however, jerking huge chunks of masonry from the ground so suddenly
that I would have been crushed if I hadn’t leapt backwards in a
flash.

Skidding back on the
wet stone floor, I put a roomful of distance between me and the mass
of upturned rubble and the Queen in its midst, waiting for the dark
elf to lower her guard. The stones tumbled down, and the Valsharess
stalked out, her fists clenched at her sides. “You are a fool!”
she snarled, her eyes wild with rage. “Do not think it so easy
to kill me here! You’ve made a terrible mistake,
rivvel,” she hissed, practically spitting the word.
“There’s nothing you’ll regret more than not
killing me with that first blow.”

Breathing heavily, one
corner of my mouth curled up in half a sneer as I tightened what
remained of the crimson sheets about my waist. “You’re
right,” I agreed, my blood starting to simmer. “I regret
it already.”

Orange flames flickered
around the lavender tips of her fingers as her pretty face twisted
into a mask of hate. Clenching her jaw, she struggled to bite back
her anger, but finally failed. “Die then!” she screamed,
thrusting out both hands, the force of her emotions lifting her off the ground. Chains wrapped themselves around my arms
and throat, snapping back and slamming me into the floor below. I
cried out at the force of the strike, tumbling head over heels as the
chains dragged me across the ground. My hands clawed at the stone
beneath, causing great tears to rend the entire room, obliterating
the chains that were rapidly squeezing the life from my limbs.
Spinning on one knee, I grunted and pulled, the now-lifeless metal
splitting and sharpening into a thousand glistening points.

The Valsharess, still
floating in midair, howled with rage, heaving a wall of stone from
the earth in time to catch the thousands of arrows. They clinked as
they struck the granite shield, clouds of dust drifting up from every
strike. A guttural cry sounded from behind the stone, and the wall
was pulled even higher, to the ceiling, and tipped forward.

I didn’t have
time to dodge, or escape. Tossing myself to the floor, a quick pass
of my hand over the ground gave me a ditch just deep enough to hide
in. The sound of the wall striking floor was deafening. Ears ringing,
trapped beneath a few thousand pounds of broken rock, I pictured the slab whole
again, attached to the golden winches of a lift along each wall. The
gears spun, and the granite slab sailed up, even faster than it had
fallen. Leaping to my feet, I darted to the center of the room just
as the makeshift lift was cleaved in two. Rock crumbled, dust and
grit clouding the air as the roar of shattering stone once more rang
in my ears.

Huge chunks of falling
rock struck the ground to either side, shattering on impact. The
cloud of dust hanging in the air parted slowly, languidly caressing
every inch of the dark elf Queen as it slid past her form. She
appeared to have regained some measure of her angry composure, her
face merely stern, though her hands were still clenched at her sides
as she drifted down. “You,” she hissed, “Are a
stupid, stupid man.” Her booted feet clicked against the floor,
and she released her hold on levitation. White-blonde hair slid over
her shoulders as she shook her head. “And to think that I
actually once thought you a threat!” She laughed disparagingly,
throwing back her head in genuine amusement. “Hah! By the
rancid tits of Lolth, I was a fool!” Artfully laquered nails
carded through the mass of hair on her head, pulling loose strands
back from her face. When she turned her attention back to me, her
eyes twinkled. “You know,” she began, “I had never
thought I’d return to the same level of idiocy I had been trapped at when I
served the Spider Bitch.” She chuckled. “Apparently I was
wrong, rivvel.”

Straightening her back,
she flexed and sniffed dismissively. “So was Mephistopheles.
Whatever he may have foretold,” she added, “It is
not you who will kill me. It would appear that even an
Arch-Devil can be wrong as well.” She laughed, again, a harsh,
bitter sound not at all like the throaty chuckles from before.

Her scornful words
burned in my ears. Flushing, I glared at her, feeling an
unprecedented surge of anger boil in my blood. How could she possibly
gloat when she hadn’t even managed to truly strike back? Acid
bile seared the back of my throat. I had to bite my tongue back
quickly before the burning irritation overwhelmed my thoughts.
Anything I said would only have come out as garbled vitriol anyway.

Still, her laughter
begged for bloody retribution. My lips quivered, trying to snarl as a
stray thought called a golden spear to my hand. The moment I felt its
shaft in my hand I darted forward, simply willing myself within arm’s
reach of the bitch.

A mistake.

She was more prepared
than I had expected. Regrettably so. In the same instant that I
blinked into the air before her, in that split second of time before
my spear pierced her heart, she already had one hand around my throat
and the other grabbing for the tip of the spear, and, with that same,
fluid motion, kicked my legs out from under me, forcing me to the
ground and stamping her armored boot down on one knee. I felt no pain
from the blow, my mind dominated by the sudden shock of having my air
cut off. One hand clawed futilely at the powerful arm gripping my
throat, but the other still clung to the shaft of my golden spear,
the long weapon the only reason she hadn’t forced me to the
ground completely. The drow Queen bore down, using her greater
leverage to press me even painfully further towards the ground, my
legs trapped and my spine bent into an awkward position.

“This is my
domain!” she snarled, her fingers clawing through the spear’s
head as spittle flew from her lips. She ground her foot into the side
of my knee, the fingers that gripped my throat tightening and cutting
off my scream. She hissed again. “Did you honestly think that a
male like you is any sort of a match for me?” Her tone
of voice sounded indignant at the very thought of such a thing.
Clutching one hand about her wrist, I cocked my head and sneered at
her again. I pushed my will into the spear. The twisted mess of metal
in her hand melted in a flash. In less than an instant a new point
had formed as the shaft shot through her grasp, puncturing her breast
with a spray of arterial blood.

“Aaah!” she
screamed, a shrill, surprised wail of agony and anger. I felt her
grip go slack, and then she was gone, reappearing halfway back,
towards the end of the ruined, shifting room. Blood spilled out from
beneath the hand clasped just above her left breast, and she
slouched, panting, her wide, crimson eyes sharp with hate. An
animalistic scorn twisted her lips and bared her teeth. “I
shall see you on your knees before me, Christovel!” she called,
“I shall see that you know what it is to suffer!” The
drow Queen paused, nashing her teeth once more, and then suddenly
tore herself from the dream. A void of unreality erupted in her wake.

Already on my feet and
halfway towards her again when she disappeared, the Valsharess’
abrupt retreat left me reeling. The blood pounding in my ears nearly
drowned out the crackling snaps of the growing void, the
adrenaline-fueled rage urging me to risk diving into the hole in the
hopes of being able to find her somewhere out there in the Nether.
Find her, hunt her down and tear the flesh from her limbs! In what
remained of the crumbling Dream my burning anger became a palpable
force, tearing great holes through the ground and disputing the few
threads of reality the little world had left.

Black bile bubbled up
in the back of my throat, searing my tongue. To leave would be to
admit defeat! My mind was torn between its sense of self-preservation
and tearing through the Nether to find the Valsharess and pull her
into a Dream of my own, one where she wouldn’t be allowed to
flee until one of us was dead. A snapping tendril of dark void tore
through air a few feet above my head, and, in the end,
self-preservation won out.

I clamped down the
snarling beast that boiled inside, and held my breath, forcing my
will into the crumbling world. Another hole opened, one just wide
enough for me to slip back through the threads that remained.

There was a wrenching
shift where the edges of my world went black, and then I was
back in Valen’s bedroom.

Breathless, I jerked
upright even as my stomach fell, gasping, and nearly lashing a spray
of magic across the room. I sat there for a long moment, sweating and
trying to bite back the angry snarl that threatened to tear from my
throat. Unable to do much more than sit there and fume, I took quick
stock of the room. The familiar colors of House Maevirr hung from the
walls once more, tabards and tapestries artfully framed by the dainty
mushwood furniture that was so common throughout Lith My’ather.
Glowshards, hidden in the ceiling, brightened upon registering
movement.

The richly furnished
room, with its elegant blend of Lloth’s red and Maevirr
cerulean and gold, was empty; my demonic companion nowhere to be
found. I was alone.

More relieved than
concerned by the lack of Valen’s presence, I struggled to focus
on settling down, intent on catching my breath. It wasn’t so
much that I didn’t want him to know the shame of my defeat so
much as I couldn’t stand having to deal with him right now. Or
anyone else for that matter. If he were here, the demon would no
doubt have reached out and touched me, or asked some nosy question
that I was in no mood to answer. I ground my teeth, my fingers
clenching around the silken sheets when the urge to destroy something
welled up inside. For a long moment I was half-afraid that the
caustic vitriol searing my throat would overwhelm me, but the bubble
of boiling rage suddenly burst, leaving me to feel empty, scurrilous,
and numb.

Scrubbing one hand over
my face, I let out a sigh, fighting back the last surge of adrenaline
still throbbing in my veins. The disconcerting snap of being thrust
out of the Dream had been unpleasant to say the least. My gut roiled
in disgust, both at myself for losing as well as the frustration of
an unsatiated urge to kill. I grimaced, burying my forehead in my
arms and curling my fingers into fists. I had been so close! My hands
would have been at her neck! I could have killed her, broken the
geas, and freed myself to return to the surface already! A sneer
settled on my face as I did a quick run-through of the way the battle
for control of the Dream had just played out, trying to identify
where, exactly, I’d slipped up and let her escape.

It wasn’t that
hard to figure out where I’d gone wrong. Reaching for the queen
with the expectation of killing her quickly was my mistake. I hadn’t
accounted for the fact that the dark elf would be so adept at Dreams.
Not many people were- in fact, the only reason I’d learned to
control them at all was because it was how my Master, Drogan
Droganson, conjured instructional situations for his apprentices. One
either learned to master the encounter, and therefore Dream, or fail
the test and have to face it again. Still, as rare as mastery was, I
should have expected to be foiled if I simply tried using
brute-strength. She’d been the one to send the Dream in the
first place! My lips quivered, and I fought the urge to gnaw on the
inside of my cheek. Why hadn’t I thought of that fact? How had
I been so sure that I would win? Pride had pushed me forward, forced
me to rush and forget the fact that there was the possibility of
someone as skilled as I. Such a marvelous opportunity, lost! I ground
my teeth in irritation. Had I been so desperate to kill her tha-
wait. I had been desperate, hadn’t I? And there was a reason
for me to be so eager, one very compelling reason, in fact. I’d
been bound, by an Archmage’s geas.

Halaster. I turned my
focus inwards, letting my thoughts drift towards the slight,
unpleasant aftertaste of the binding curse he’d laid upon me in
Undermountain. Even though the geas was always present in my blood,
it rarely made itself heard or felt. It was a simple one, I knew,
because its directive itself was simple. Kill the Valsharess. There
was no time limit, no all-encompassing drive, just the knowledge that
I couldn’t return to the surface so long as she was still
alive. Tyr’s heart, but she had been a fool to make an enemy
out of him. The Archmage was dangerously crazy, probably borderline
psychotic, and had nearly a thousand years of experience under his
belt. The geas itself was no more than the equivalent of a child’s
knot: it just had the benefit of a mountain of strength behind it.
There was honestly no telling what the madman was capable of, much
less the reasons behind it. Yeah, he’d bound and transported me
to the Underdark in order to eliminate the mistress of the drow
armies harassing his underground stronghold, but that was just
because I had happened to be handy. He was just as likely to clone
himself again and attack her directly, and instead of expanding her
holdings, much less her fledgling empire, the Valsharess would have
found am ancient, maddened wizard on her doorstep, rhyming non-stop
and spouting nonsensical riddles as he brought the cavern down around
her ears.

To think that I had
been cursed so easily by the wizard too. The experience had opened my
eyes, at least, to the fact that there were still many creatures out
there that were bigger and badder than I. Having been made a Hero-
twice- had started to get to my head.

Not regretting the
lesson didn’t mean I still wasn’t rankled by the fact it
had been necessary in the first place. Never
underestimate your enemy, I chided myself, annoyed with the fact
that my pride had probably cost me an instant, bloodless victory. I
had been distracted by the fact that she had been feeding on a devil
for power, and over-confidant at having so easily determined the
binding source, I decided. I had assumed that as a priestess she
wouldn’t have near the same amount of will or sorcerous control
that I possessed, as though a simple shoving match would have had any
effect in the Dream. But- why had I even thought that in the first
place? Any of Master Drogan’s other students would have been
just as adept, regardless of their magical power. A dark inkling rose
in my mind. The geas. Did it have more power than I had thought?
Perhaps something based on proximity? After a few minutes of worrying
my lip in thought I dismissed the notion as irrelevant. Picking at
the curse every day for the last month had done nothing. Discovering
that the geas had other effects did me little good now. I could only
hope to compensate for it in the future. My mind turned back to
figuring out where I’d gone wrong in the Dream. Perhaps if I
had lashed out at her senses, her mind, right away, instead of trying
to trap her body I might have held her there long enough to put a
premature end to this war I’d gotten caught up in. I- …
I would have broken the geas.

The thought of victory
gave me pause. What would I do if- when- we did win? My first thought
was that I would return to the surface, but what would happen after
that? I shifted, running my hands over my calves and leaning forward
to spread my fingers between my toes. Beyond the burning desire to
feel the sun on my face, true wind on my cheeks and not the closed,
pressurized feel of the earth above my head, I didn’t have a
clue as to what I wanted to do.

Sighing, I dug my jaw
against my knee, trying to dispel some of the isolation I felt at the
prospect of being alone once more. It had been easy, in these last
few months, to forget just how empty the last year of pointless
wandering had felt. The city of Waterdeep’s call for heroes to
venture into the war-torn Undermountain had been a godsend,
galvanizing my drive and making me feel truly alive again. I‘d
companions, and purpose!

Beyond this petty
power-struggle though, after the Seer managed to defeat the
Valsharess, what was I going to do? Vague thoughts of staying with
the Eilistraeen rebels flitted through my head for a moment, but they
were quickly dismissed. As much as I had enjoyed my time in Lith
My’ather, I still didn’t feel comfortable among the
rebels. Ideological differences regarding religion and all that. I
just happened to be of the opinion that anyone who put their faith in
the gods was asking to be used and abused and tossed aside.

Rebuilding the
Underdark, helping converts find their way to the surface, and
gathering for prayer vigils did not appeal to me. I doubted I would
stay for very long after the Valsharess was dead. With a sigh I
shifted again, staring sightlessly at nothing in particular. Maybe
being alone wasn’t so bad- I’d manage to find something
to do soon enough. I always did. I’d miss Nathyrra though. It
had been more than enjoyable to find a friend who was… well,
kind of a lot like me. And Valen… Valen. My fingers curled
about my feet as, unbidden, my mind conjured up the memory of his
tongue filling my mouth, his hot skin sliding against my sweaty
chest. Blood heated my face. I had just… just had sex, real
sex, with a man, a demon, who had taken every opportunity to wring
every moment of pleasure he could from my body. Despite the warm
feeling of sexual satisfaction lodged in my gut, I still felt my
blood sluggishly stir as my mind roused even more memories.
The feel of the demon’s body, so smooth, with hardened muscle
flexing just beneath pale skin, rose to the forefront of my thoughts,
followed closely by the memory of his- his cock, spreading me so
wide! The Dream flashed briefly, however, and the fact that
the Valsharess still lived soured my mood, much less the brutal
realization that I was already struggling to decide what to do before
I’d even broken the geas. For all I knew, it could still be
months before I broke away from the Seer’s camp. Months.

Months of darkness,
weeks of still, cloistered air and cavern wall above. Months of
crawling into Valen’s lap, sitting down on his cock and just
bouncing my brains out- argh!

Growling in
frustration, I flopped back against the pillows, wincing as the
movement pulled muscles stretched in ways I’d never known
before. Or, at least, hadn’t been made so keenly aware of.
Tyr’s heart, the demon had practically torn me open! A sudden
twinge of my hips sent a bolt of agonized pleasure up my spine,
catching my breath and momentarily causing my vision to go black.
Maybe the sex would be worth it, I thought, panting and staring
blankly at the vaulted ceiling. If I could taste the demon, touch his
sweet flesh every day, it just might be worth it to take my time in
killing the Valsharess. I let my mind drift deeper into the series of
carnal thoughts, my mouth watering as my breath went shallow.

I just couldn’t
get over the fact that- that I’d had sex with him. Good sex.
Fantastic sex. Sex that was beyond compare to anything I’d
imagined, and I had spent a lot of dark nights with only my hand for
company.

Oh, Tyr protect me. I
twisted, burying my face in a crimson silk pillow. The motion only
served to aggravate the new awareness I had of my tender insides.
Even with my eyes closed I could still tell my vision had gone dark,
exquisite agony lancing through my brain. I couldn’t keep the
excitement, the pleasure, the sheer exuberance of afterglow and
adrenaline and tainted lust from swelling up in my chest and spilling
out through my throat. Biting the pillow helped some. At least, it
curbed the sudden tide to the point that my cry came out as nothing
more than a tiny, joyous squeak. I’d had sex! With Valen! He’d
just- he’d just thrust his cock inside me, pistoning his hips
until he- until he- Asco’s tainted blood!

My face lit up, my mind
hardly able to wrap itself around the knowledge that the demon had,
er… spilled his seed… …inside me. Inside me! An
image of hot semen leaking from my butt flashed before my eyes.
Burning heat colored my cheeks, to the point that even my ears were
on fire. It’s not like I’d never thought about sex, or
its aftermath, before- and given how often I took a little, well,
‘personal time’ for myself, there had been a lot
of thought- but that had all just been fantasy! Not fact! There was a
world of difference between thinking about getting taken- letting
another man bury himself deep in climax- and being forced to
acknowledge that it actually happened! Now every twinge of my
hips only called attention to the fact that I had demon seed sliding
through my guts! My toes curled, the muscles of my legs twitching and
sending powerful shocks up my spine. Fuckin’ A- I couldn’t
even begin to describe the strange multitude of sensations that
assaulted my brain! It was a combination of old, sore pain mixed with
undercurrents of burning pleasure. I nearly sobbed at its
overwhelming strength. By the cursed Will of Ao! How could I possibly decide just
what I wanted to do with Valen if I couldn’t even stop thinking
about sex with him?

Burying my face in the
pillow certainly wasn’t helping anything though. Dropping my
head to the side, I forcefully turned my thoughts to the room in an
effort to calm my racing heart. A small, gracefully carved dancing
girl stood on the nightstand, her smile the kind that comes from
internal joy. Her legs were bent, having either just started to leap
or having just landed, and carved sleeves billowed out from her arms.
Despite the tilt of her head towards her knees, however, her gaze still seemed
to be level with mine. Suddenly the smile didn’t seem secretive
so much as knowing.

The obsidian statue was
now just a tad bit unnerving. I stared at it for another minute
before I reached out and spun it towards the wall.

Momentarily safe from
the prying eyes of inanimate art, I rearranged myself, spreading my
arms out beneath the cool undersides of the silk pillows. Of all the
times for the demon to confess, he’d just had to do it on a
night that I had been feeling depressed and lonely, ready for comfort
and half-drunk to boot. I sighed heavily. I just didn’t know
what to do. Relationships weren’t exactly anything I was good
at- most of the people I knew either died or disappeared, or at
least, that’s what happened to all of the ones I cared about.
Valen didn’t seem like the type of guy to simply disappear, but
he did seem like the type to die. Heroically, and for a good cause of
course, some haughty ideal or something, but that didn’t change
the fact that he‘d still be dead. And he also seemed to have
had a lot more time to think about this. His words from last night
were a little fuzzy, but I seemed to remember the gist of everything
he’d said, about wanting more than a one night stand. That kind
of talk only came after weeks of eying someone, which meant that the
demon had a good head start on me with that.

In all honestly, I
truly hadn’t given a moment’s thought towards a
relationship with him the whole first month I’d been down here,
in Lith My’ather. Sure he’d been just as visually
appealing before, but the vehemence with which he argued against
trusting me or any of my decisions had dispelled any and all
of whatever appeal he’d had. I don’t think that I’d
even said anything more to him than a few cursory exchanges until
after we had liberated Ferron and his golems from The Maker’s
Isle. That had been almost a week into my first month in the
Underdark. It had taken an entire week of living beside the guy in
order to get him to even acknowledge that I was capable. Jerk.

I felt bad the moment
the word popped into my head. He had apologized for the way
he’d treated me. My face tinged red in mild embarrassment.
Valen probably didn’t deserve to come back and simply find an
empty room. Well, he didn’t so long as I couldn’t think
of a good excuse, and there wasn’t anything coming to mind.
Tyr, what was I going to do?

Damn the demon. This
would be so much easier if he was just a fuck and a fling kind of
guy. Or, at least, interested in only doing that much with me, but
no. Hadn’t he said something about that last night? I furrowed
my brow, trying to conjure up the exact words, but nothing came to
mind. I huffed in irritation, flipping my head over to get more
comfortable. If I at least knew what it was he liked about me, then I
could understand. There may be some delusions I hold about myself,
but my wit, my charm, and my looks weren’t among them. It just
doesn’t seem like having to work hard at just being one
of them, much less all three, would happen if I had any shred of
talent beyond my arcane capabilities. Maybe Valen really did just
want an easy fuck- … except he could have gotten any number of
better fucks just as easily. Even if it weren’t for Valen’s
strength and prowess on the battlefield, the dark elves of Lith
My’ather would still worship the demon. Something about
creatures from the lower planes just seemed to drive them wild.

So he truly must be
attracted to something about me in particular. Maybe he just liked my
ass. I was pretty conscious of it, right now, lying on my stomach as
I was. It ached, a delightful, sore throb that was one of the reasons
I kept getting reminded of what I’d just done. It made me feel
vulnerable. Even with the sheets wrapped around my waist I still felt
exposed, as though anyone or anything could just rush in and take me
from behind.

That thought made me
glance around quick, just to make sure the demon was still gone. Tyr,
if I stayed, if I waited until he came back, I could just spread my
legs again, raise my butt and present myself, get taken, be devoured
and ravished like before. Dark fantasies played through my head, ones
where Valen stormed back in, hard and angry, snatching me up to
simply spear me on his steel cock-!

I bit down on the
pillow again, trying to curb the flurry of emotion coursing through
my veins. Tyr’s heart! I couldn’t keep getting worked up
like this! Forcing myself to relax, I struggled to turn my thoughts
away from Valen and towards more pressing matters, such as getting
myself clothed and out of his room before he came back. The awkward,
stilted conversation that was sure to follow a night of wild, drunken
sex was one I wanted to put off for as long as possible, or, at
least, hopefully until I was about to leave the Seer, her rebels, and
the Underdark behind. The only problem was that every time I tried to
work up the courage to leave, I’d get distracted by the memory
of Valen’s face, hair dripping with sweat and lips curled in
pleasure, and that slight distraction was all it took for me to
forget myself and have to try anew. Ducking out behind a lover’s
back wasn’t exactly something I had too much experience with.

A sharp click and the
familiar sound of a door sliding open caught my attention. Rolling
back, I saw the missing demon step through one of the Tower’s
many subtle doorways, his dark red hair hanging loose about his head,
a black basin in one hand an a washcloth in the other. He blinked at
me, then grinned. “Awake already?”

He was still naked.
Jerking my eyes from his crotch to his face, I struggled to not even
glance at anything below the waistline, even as he slid the carved
door shut with his foot. I tried willing myself to meet his cold,
ice-blue gaze, and felt my cheeks burn when I realized what I saw
there. His eyes practically dared me to look at his cock, and,
in the end, I couldn’t resist the temptation. My gaze dropped
to the long, pale shaft resting so smugly above his plump balls.

Even when he started
forward with a slow, elegant shift of his hips I couldn’t stop
staring, transfixed by the way his heavy dick bounced and swung. All
thoughts of the Valsharess, our fight, and the geas, were buried when
the feeling of Valen wrapped around me, inside me, rose in my
mind. Tyr’s heart! I still couldn’t get over the fact
that I’d taken his entire fucking cock! The memory of his steel
length sliding through my guts was so strong I felt my toes curl even
as my brain threatened to give out. Salivating, my tongue thickening
at the sight of the demon’s rounded sac, big enough to make his
cock jiggle with every step, I was hard-pressed to not use magic to
simply drag the tiefling over and devour him. I just wanted-
wanted, so badly- to do everything to him- suck his cock into
my mouth once more and taste it, feel it swell, draw my tongue
across his dark nipples and sink my teeth into that unbelievably
smooth, pale flesh! Asco’s tainted blood! Valen wasn’t
even near me and still he managed to drive me crazy with lust! As
soon as he reached the bed, I would grab the nearest piece of him and
cram it into my mouth, be it his hand, his chest, or his cock. Tyr
judge me, but the thought of his fingers sliding over my tongue, the
sensation of his skin sinking beneath my teeth-!

Reason flared,
momentarily dispelling the effect the sight of the demon had on my
body, and I straightened, sucking in a deep breath as I met Valen’s
eerie gaze. I needed to explain to him that, while I didn’t
regret the night, and the sex was absolutely mind-blowing, I really
didn’t need to get involved with anything where there were
strings attached. The return of sobriety had allowed me to regain at
least some ounce of common sense, and the little, cautious voice in
my head was telling me that I needed to extract myself from the
situation quickly, before it got any worse. I opened my mouth to
speak as the demon sat down on the edge of the bed, his long, spaded
tail graceful snapping about as his plump dick bounced between his
legs. The necessary words for a polite- but firm- goodbye had been on
the very tip of my tongue, but the position he chose caused them to
catch in my throat.

I glanced, briefly, at
his pale, black-rimmed eyes, but that sense of dark knowledge was
gone, replaced with the simple, more familiar, complacent look of
contentment I saw so much more often on the demon’s face. He
still had a small smile on his lips as he settled the basin on his
left leg, the one whose foot still touched the floor. The right foot,
of course, was tucked beneath him, the heel of which was pushing his
long, smooth cock into plain view. I jerked, and nerved myself. I
really, really needed to go, before I lost my resolve altogether.

My gaze flicked from
the look of contentment on his face to his cock again. I bit my lip
when he shifted to balance the water in the bowl, the motion of said
shift causing his dick to roll across his balls. I could probably
leave right now, but then again, I could just… just…
stay a little longer.

“How long was I
out?” I asked, after a moment where my thoughts struggled to
pull themselves away from the well-endowed demon’s bouncing
anatomy.

Valen looked up from
balancing the bowl, the electric blue of his eyes even more startling
when framed by his loose red hair. He so rarely wore it down. “Three
turns of the glass,” he said, with a tilt of his horned head at
the astrolabe that sat on a table to the side of the entrance to the
room. Roughly an hour, by surface measurements. The demon dunked the
washcloth in the water and squeezed. “I thought you might have
appreciated a rubdown. After, you know,” he trailed off,
quirking his mouth as his eyes sparked.

Hot blood colored my
face. Glancing aside, I willed my embarrassment down and shrugged,
nonchalant. “Yeah,” I said, awkwardly, “That’d
be great.”

The corners of the
demon’s mouth curled up, and he reached for my foot, pulling it
gently into his lap. I watched him carefully from under my brow, my
chin tucked against my chest, my fingers twitching nervously against
the sheets. Valen, however, was the picture of calm, idly soaking the
cloth again before squeezing it and pressing the rag to the bottom of
my foot.

The temperature of the
water was surprisingly warm. I bit back my groan as he dragged the
cloth over the sensitive arch, involuntarily spreading my toes and
leaning into each pass of his hand. It was easy enough to get lost in
the demon’s touch, the feel of the cloth sliding between each
individual toe, the slight tingle of water cooling as it dried.
Physical touch had been rare this past year, and I couldn’t
help but let contact continue, the last little bits of resolve
slinking away. If there was going to be an awkward, “this was a
mistake” conversation, it would have to happen eventually. No
reason to worry myself with such things now, when I still had a warm
bit of afterglow left over. Besides, a guy could get used to the feel
of the demon’s hot hands and smooth skin sliding over his own.
Just the way Valen moved, a slow, methodical pace, was enthralling.
He languidly worked his way over every inch of my foot, pressing and
kneading as he stroked the warm, wet cloth across my skin. Tyr, I had
always known that the demon had had talented hands, but I had never
exactly been subjected to his administration until yesterday. A small
part of my mind was stuck thinking that this was just a tad bit
ridiculous, that I was wasn’t some blushing bride or a
sensitive flit ready to be taken in by soppy touches, but that still
didn’t change the reality of the fact that I was still there, in
Valen’s bed, with his hands steadily working their way up one
leg. Any thoughts wondering at how I’d gotten there or what the
hell I was even doing gradually melted away, taking with them
whatever nervous uncertainty I’d been feeling. It was
cathartic- in a sense- that sudden, mercurial shift of emotion.
Without the fear of failure, of being weak or too emotional, the only
thing left was the touch of Valen’s palms. My breath shook,
almost inaudibly, as the warm, wet cloth slid along the underside of
my calf muscle and into the back of my knee. The demon heard it, of
course. He never missed anything.

His eyes sparkled with
humor when he glanced up at me. “Are you sensitive there?”
he asked, running his fingers along the ticklish patch of skin. I
jerked my leg out of his hands with a gasp.

“Yeah,” I
growled, scowling and blushing. The demon snickered, tugging my leg
into his lap again, his one free hand gripping the basin as he slid
towards me. The fleshy part of my calf scrubbed against curly little
hairs above his dick, and- if I wasn’t mistaken- the soft, rubbery
roll below that had been the base of his cock. The involuntary touch
was electrifying, my heart racing when I realized what I’d just
touched.

Valen didn’t seem
to mind, or even notice, the brush. Instead he simply returned to
letting his hands work their way up my leg, absently brushing more
and more of the crimson silk sheet out of the way. He didn’t
seem to be very aware of anything.

I, on the other hand,
was incredible mindful- of his hands, his body, his cock- everything!
The way shadows played across the flawless, alabaster skin of his
chest, the hard lines of smooth muscle. The sharply defined V-shape
of his abdominals practically formed an arrow straight to his crotch,
of which most of my view was blocked, but even so I could still see
part of his round, bulky shaft before it disappeared between his
legs. Tyr, the thing was long! My heart, already beating at more than
its normal pace, was slowly quickening again as the urge to do
anything- anything at all- to the demon caught in my throat. His body
was practically built for strength and speed and sex!

And, honestly, wasn’t
that why I had stayed? Because I wanted Valen to wrap his arms about
me, tug my hips to his and simply bury himself as deep as he could
go? Just let the demon take complete control and spread me wide, tear
me open and-! Mother of- my lips parted, saliva pooling in my mouth
at the thought of drowning in his cthonion heat. Toes curling, I
subtly shifted as my blood started to stir. The feel of Valen’s
smooth skin sliding beneath my limbs filled my mind, and I found it
nearly impossible to focus on anything else.

The demon must have
sensed something of my arousal, subtle though I tried to be. Heaving
a heavy breath that was laced with just a touch of mild amusement, he
shifted as well, simply setting the basin to the floor and rolling
his weight his side. He slid closer, moving between my legs with a
fluid grace that never failed to catch my breath. Abandoning all
pretense, his long, pale fingers glided under the little bit of red silk I had wrapped about my waist, immediately grabbing my rapidly hardening dick.

“Mm,” he
hummed, tugging his hand over my aching cock. I could barely hold
back a groan at the feel of my foreskin sliding about beneath his
grasp. The demon wet his lips, his startling eyes flashing when they
flicked back to my face. He grinned. “Does this mean you’re
willing to go again?”

My answer was an eager
grin accompanied by a knee crooked about his waist. Valen took the
hint, lifting himself momentarily to get his legs underneath his hips
before leaning over to plant a succulent kiss against my mouth. His
tongue was wet and warm, and the demon seemed unaware of my hands
sliding across the pale skin of his back. I strained upwards, leaning
into his mouth and digging at his tongue with greater fervor as my
fingers grazed the small of his back. Pausing a moment to make sure
he hadn’t noticed- and he hadn’t, he was still trying to
suck my teeth from my mouth- I struck.

Fingers from both hands
gently slid over, around the point where his spine curled out to his
tail, and the moment I touched that toughened skin he froze.
Literally. It was as though every muscle on his body had instantly
locked in place, even his half-open lips stiff and unmoving. Amused
by the hold those few nerves seemed to have on his brain, I couldn’t
help but snicker as I softly teased my fingertips beneath the base of
his tail- and that was when I realized just how eerily still the
demon had become. Frozen to the point where his chest wasn’t
even drawing in breath.

Concerned, I started to
pull back, but before I could do more that part my fingers from his
skin I found my arms pinned beside my head and a breathtaking pair of
angry, snapping blue eyes in my face. “Wre- wretch!”
Valen snarled, stumbling over his words as he ground his steel-hard
cock into the cleft of my butt. The demon had moved faster than
thought! He loomed over me, my legs spread wide about his waist and a
promise of dire retribution hanging in the air. “I-,” he
started, his voice something between a snarling growl and a laugh, “I
don’t- I don’t think you really- appreciate- what
happens when you do that, Ceald.” His words were hard and
forced, his canine teeth bared and the spaded tip of his tail
flickering in and out of view to either side of his head. His eyes
burned, the pale, otherworldly blue irises sparking with fire.

I had never been more
turned on in my life.

“Oh?” I
tilted my head, giving a hard grind of my hips against the erection
trapped beneath them. “Maybe you just need to show me then.”

Valen stared at me,
eyes wide, chest heaving, before he barked a laugh and leaned
forward. “Ceald,” he laughed, shaking his head before his
eyes snapped back to mine. I don’t think he realized just how
full of menace that one little movement was. His tail continued to
flicker back and forth in agitation. The demon stared at me a moment
more before he cocked his head, the corners of his mouth twitching up
in a grin. “Can I?” He asked as though there was the
chance I’d say no.

Flushing, I hesitated
only a second- and that was only due to the fact that my brain was
nearly overwhelmed carnal desire- before I nodded, thrusting my hips
forward with a joyous gasp when I felt his unbelievably warm, soft
mouth close over the end of my dick.

--=++==+=--

--=++==+=--

Poor Valen. He really should not have told Ceald about that magic little button above his butt there. Ceald is a wholly unscruoulous individual who is more than willing to do anything and everything he can to the demon, no matter how close it comes to frying Valen's brain. Lawlz! The demon's going to have to learn that some elves aren't exactly the wholesome individuals he thinks they are.

So what'd you guys think? Good, bad? Mediocre? More of the same or was this new and interesting? Heh, be as harsh and as critical as you want! I'd rather have someone tell me *exactly* what's wrong with my work so I can correct it and make it flawless than have something (even just a minor irritation) in there constantly grating every time you read it.
- 7
- 8
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Ceald Amothien