0 comments/ 23139 views/ 4 favorites Bruises So Blue Ch. 01 By: DireLilith Her woods were full of gold tinged, red veined leaves. Some trees green, some trees bare. But her woods were the sort people walked through on casual journeys, the grass kept short and trimmed, almost every shrub purposely placed for the sake of decoration. The roads were paved, bridges forded the rivers and creeks, and every waterfall had a picturesque quality to it; giant rocks were placed next to or within the cascading waters so that passers by lured by the soft misty spray or the calming rush of water falling could linger if they so desired. As she looked around her now, panic clutched her dark heart in her chest, making her blood race through her veins. This, she realized, was nothing like her wood. The sky was hardly visible through the canopy above her head. The soft musky scent of decaying leaves turning to fertilized soil permeated the air and made her sneeze. Hues of blue, purple and deep green were everywhere. The grass was also unkempt, allowed to go wild. Panthers and strange creatures shaped like walking trees were ready to pounce from every dangerous scrub or brush. She was not at home here. This was not a place where a person of her culture lingered. Yet, here she was. The warlock pulled her robes tighter around her, huddling next to a particularly thick tree and hoping its shadowed roots hid her from those pursuing her. She had pulled a dark cowl over her platinum hair and had tucked its long corners around the lower half of her face. Every inch of her pale white skin that she could cover, she had covered. The only things that set her apart from the shadows right now were her glowing green eyes. She couldn't help that. She had to keep watch, couldn't afford to lay back and close her eyes. The din of pursuit was passing. She waited a few moments longer before slipping out of the shadows and scanning the shore of the lake nearby. To the south was a place her clan used when planning attacks against their cousin elves of the night persuasion. Her people were of a different faction than those who commanded the land she now found herself creeping through now. When they came to bring death and fire to this great island comprised of an immortal tree, when they sought to wreak their havoc on the people who had turned the very branches into a 'land' of sorts, there was a place they staged their attacks from. If she could make her way there, she could rethink what she was doing. She could reconsider why she had come. All her life was jumbled just now. She didn't know who to turn to, and had rarely felt such confusion when it came to her heart. She had pushed everyone she cared for away from her in her desire to give herself some sense of clarity. And she had fled from the lands her kin knew best to this foreign field instead, knowing they would not think to chase her here. Of course, with her risky choice came the danger of being caught. And that was why she was on the run now. She had barely entered the land before being discovered by some patrolling elven guardsmen. Unlike her own people, these men were tall, their skin shades of blue and green and grey, so that they might match the wood they called home. Their eyes were yellow, their teeth slightly fanged and feral. And they rode great saber toothed cats as mounts. She could defend herself against one, maybe two at a time. But with a whole patrol out after her, she had no choice but to go to ground and hide until they gave up the chase. She continued to make her way to the south, dashing swiftly through the brush. She banged against another person, someone else, and jumped back, startled. Her fingers were curled and ready to hurl fire and disease, until she looked up the tall body and saw a face she knew. From the pale grey white pallor of his skin to his wild glowing eyes, she knew him. His white hair was free, his helm was in his hand as he gestured to her. "Shhh!" he said in her own tongue. How could he know her language? "Don't say a word, they'll hear you!" He reached out and took her wrist, and she didn't fight him, let him lead her deeper into the woods. He drew her past trees and branches, until finally they stopped. Then he turned to her, still holding her wrist. "What are you doing here?" His gaze was fierce, the bridge of his nose sharp and hawk-like. He gazed over her, as if studying her for the first time, up-close. Before her now was a man who had haunted her dreams and tormented her waking hours for such a very long time. He was someone of the opposing faction, one she had refused to have any dealings with because of his race and culture. They had met at a gathering of different races one evening in her own woods, a land he was not typically welcomed in. And though others she knew had welcomed him as a harbinger of peace and neutrality, she had practically spit in his face. He hadn't liked it and had seemed to make it his life's goal to stalk her and her clan. When they attacked one of the cities her people sought to tear down, he would be there, his blades whirling out of the shadows and striking at her ruthlessly. Never had she spoken to him before, never had she encountered him on friendly terms. Yet, here he was. She looked up into his eyes and felt her will power slip away, felt herself giving in to something she'd been fighting for so long. "Why are you here?" he said insistently, squeezing her wrist tightly. "I came...for you," she answered. As she made to take a step forward, there was a blunt thud on the back of her head. All the world went dark one second after she saw him gasp, his eyes go wide. Then she sank to the forest floor, unconscious. Bruises So Blue Ch. 02 Awakening from the darkness immediately brought the consequence of pain. The warlock squeezed her eyes shut, for even the subdued lighting coming through her lids was too bright for the first few moments of her awareness. Slowly she adjusted to the light, but as she opened her eyes, she began to feel her predicament. Her wrists were bound behind her, so tightly that her shoulders were feeling strained. She was on her knees, on dirt. She glanced over her shoulder, quickly noticing that her wrists were roped and the rope was around a thick pole, possibly the centre beam of a tent or lodge. She tugged instinctively on the bindings but winced loudly and squeezed her eyes shut. Her wrists felt as if they were broken already. Somewhere to her left, someone started laughing. Carefully, she began to draw her head up, to see who her captors were. But she moved too slowly, and someone grabbed a fistful of her pale hair, wrenching her head back. She looked into the brown eyes of a human with black hair and a goatee. She knew this face. Didn't have a name for him. But he was a disgusting paladin she had fought many times. He was practically spitting at her as he pulled on her hair, trying to drag her to her feet. His hand snaked out and ripped the remaining clothing from her body, and she snarled at him. "Pig!" He laughed again then called out to someone else, pushing her head away from him as she struggled to stay up on her feet. She glanced around at her surrounds. This was indeed some crudely erected tent. And the man had called out to another human, this one with longer red-blonde hair, a thick matching beard jutting from his chin, and an almost blindfold-like blind across his eyes, black, shielding them from her. The strawberry blonde haired man promptly walked over to the elven warlock and slapped her, hard. Her head whipped to the side and stars sprouted behind her eyelids. She gasped, shocked as much by the pain of the act as by the act itself. Black goatee man laughed loudly and walked up to her, once again pulling her head back. But she kept her eyes on the face of the blonde, watching as he carefully pulled his blinder from his eyes and set it to the side on a crude wooden table. His eyes, a soft hazel, glared at her as his lip curled up in a snarl of disgust. He spoke angry, low-toned words that she might not comprehend exactly but could easily decipher the meaning of. This was another man she had fought before. And he too hated her. She was not in a good place, at all. The man with the short neatly trimmed black hair walked around behind her. She could barely stand straight at all. He had been tearing her clothing from her body while she was unconscious, the pieces lay all around her, and she could smell strange things on her skin. Was it urine? Had these monkey men urinated on her in her sleep? Behind her now, where she couldn't see him, Black Hair was poking at her naked skin and giggling. He seemed to ask a question of Blonde Hair, and at a single nod he moved his hands forward over her body. She felt his rough gloves sliding around her ass cheeks. And she winced as he forcefully pulled them apart, laughing loudly at her sound of pain. Blonde Hair moved closer, standing almost exactly in front of her. She glared at him. "I hate you...so much...right now," she hissed. His lip curled up but he said nothing. She looked down. He was undoing his weapon's belt, his heavy swords in their sheaths falling away to land on the ground. The warlock gulped. Behind her, Black Hair was laughing in glee. His fingers slid over her sex, gloved at first and then bare as he tossed his gauntlets to the side. His fingers worked expertly over her clitoris and labia, and soon, against all odds, her pussy was wet, moist and swollen with arousal. There was nothing much she could do except hiss at her captors as Black Hair touched and fondled her privacy, as Blonde Hair glared at her with all the venom his whole human nation could muster. Then someone spoke from the flap of the tent's entry. "It's going to hurt," the elf she had met in the woods said, quietly. He was silhouetted by the light of day outside but she knew it was him. His voice was already burned into her brain. She could barely breathe as she stared over the shoulder of the blonde man at the elf in the doorway. "It won't take them too long to tire of you. I hope, anyway," he said in a tone meant to comfort her. "I can't rescue you from them until they're done. And they are really angry with you." He seemed to sigh then and turn away. "P-please," she whimpered, knowing her voice sounded only a fraction as desperate as she felt inside. "Help me..." He paused, not looking over his shoulder at her, not turning around as he moved to leave. "I can't. I wish...I can't." Then he was gone. She was left alone with Black Hair and Blonde Hair. Bruises So Blue Ch. 03 Black Hair continued to manipulate her sex, but she could tell what he was doing. She tried to draw herself away from him but Blonde Hair was standing menacingly in front of her still, his eyes locked with a look of rage on her face. Black Hair continued to speak derisive words as he dragged his soaking wet fingers up from her pussy to her anus. He was using her own juices to coat her pucker, a finger occasionally slipping inside and causing her to squeal. One of his hands was very busy smearing her sex slime over her holes. She didn't have to guess what his other hand was doing. Blonde Hair reached out a hand and cupped her chin. His strong fingers squeezed on either side of her face, bruising her jaw. Then he slapped her again and again, not letting go of his grip on her face as his other hand swung at her. The stars were back and the lights in her brain were blinding until he finally stopped hitting her. Then, surprisingly, his mashed his lips against her mouth, kissing her fiercely. At first she was shocked. She didn't know how to respond. She'd never ever considered kissing a disgusting human before. His lips were full and soft and he was determined as he pressed against her mouth. As she relinquished her inhibitions, she let herself return his passion, and the kiss deepened. It was less angry, less violent. One of his hands moved to her breasts, playing over them with his gloves as she moaned lightly. Black Hair was really good with his fingers and the kiss was hot, exciting. She hadn't forgotten who she was though. And she was no little poppet or whore for their pleasure. The elven warlock sucked Blonde Hair's tongue into her mouth, toying with it. She teased his lips, licking them, then kissed him again and sought out his tongue. Once more she drew it into her mouth, and he groaned in pleasure. Then she bit down, as hard as she could. His gloved fist came up and slammed into her cheek, and that move was the only thing that kept her from severing his tongue right then. Black Hair hollered and pulled hard on her hair, forcing her head back even as she laughed out loud. Blonde Hair was running around the tent, blood pouring from his mouth. Finally, the wound staunched itself and he turned to glare at her. His perfect paladin tabard was painted red with blood now, which just made her laugh more. His fist connected with her soft belly and she would have crumpled to the floor if Black Hair hadn't held onto her hair as he did. He laughed now, and she could feel him ruthlessly fingering her ass hole, one finger, then two, then three, painfully stretching her in vengeance. She could feel him undoing his pants, and even as she doubled over and panted trying to catch her breath, she was aware enough to know what he was doing. It was no surprise to her then that his dirty human cock slide hard into her ass, careless of the tight ring of muscles that rimmed the hole. He brutally pushed passed them and rammed himself in hard to the hilt. His fingers dug into her hips painfully as he pistoned in and out of her ass. She cried out in agony. He was not a big man but he was thick. He was tearing at her, regardless of how little speckles of blood were beginning to coat his shaft. And there was nothing she could do about it. Tears filled her eyes. Blonde Hair said something derisive and the elven warlock tried to lift her head and look up at him. He put his hand under her chin again, then pushed his own leggings down to his thighs. His cock, unlike Black Hair's, was big all around. It was thick. It was long. The head looked painfully bulbous. And he was completely aroused, every vein on the shaft pulsing and throbbing. A drop of precum was already oozing from the slit at the top of his cockhead. If she wasn't in so much pain, if he hadn't been a human, this might have been slightly exciting. She gulped and looked up at him again. He held her chin with one hand for a moment and batted his cockhead against her cheek. She squeezed her mouth shut a moment, then thought the better of it. "Go ahead," she snickered softly. "You put that thing in my mouth, I'll bite down just as hard as I did on your tongue." He must have understood her tones, for he smiled then and produced a dagger. His released cock stood proudly at attention, bouncing whenever he flexed his muscles. And he switched the dagger into his other hand, the sharp blade now pressing against her throat under her chin, holding her up. One false move, she knew, and he would slit her throat. He wouldn't even have to try. If she moved her head at all, the precise blade would cut too deep. With her hands behind her, she wouldn't be able to staunch a shallow cut. And chances are, with how enraged he was at her biting his tongue, he would not gently drag the blade along her throat. He would make sure the cut was mortal. She dared to gulp, testing the blade. She couldn't even swallow without feeling the pressure. She had no choice. With her angry glowing green eyes locked on his, she opened her mouth. And Blonde Hair slowly pushed the fat head of his cock past her lips. Over her tongue. Inside the warm wetness between her cheeks. Black Hair slowed his ass fucking slightly, watching as his friend put a hand in the warlock's pale blonde hair and tugged. The elf closed her eyes for a moment until Blonde Hair tugged on her head, whispering something unknown. She looked up at him. He wanted to watch, his face and eyes were telling her. He wanted to rape her mouth, and watch her eyes as he did it. Bruises So Blue Ch. 04 The snarl on Blonde Hair's face, the way his lip was curling up just so, made his hunger very clear. He did not care much for how delicate she might be, a warlock not used to difficult labouring or heavy lifting. He would not appreciate the supple feel of her skin beneath his palms, her almost perfect and unblemished skin. He would not cup her round breasts and graze his fingers along her high cheekbones. He hungered for none of these things. His eyes were focused on one thing and one thing alone. As his cockhead moved into her mouth, smoothly followed by the thick and veined shaft of his member, his lip curled further still. Even as the elf began to gag and choke, she blinked up at him, unable to pull her eyes away. She could see his teeth, white and perfect. Kissable, if he weren't the killer of her kind she knew he was. Her eyes locked on his. It was what he wanted. His dick butted against the back of her throat and he tried to push further, harder. The human male's fingers were tightly entwined in her platinum longs, not appreciating the silky soft feel of the hair twirled around his rough and callous fingers. She almost grimaced as he groaned in pleasure, his grip on the dagger becoming dangerously shaky. She could feel the cold steel of the blade against the pulsing veins of her neck and it scared her, frightened her. Behind her, Black Hair was picking up his pace. He had stopped watching his comrade-in-arms and was now fucking her tight pucker for all he was worth. His thick hand began to smack into one of her ass cheeks, and she could feel the fire the slapping was causing in her skin. Welts rose up on her ass in the shape of his palm and he laughed, dragging dirty nails over the reddened flesh. He would cum soon, she knew. It was in her best interests to stay still, with the sharp dagger at her throat; Black's fucking of her asshole was making that very difficult. She dared not wince in pain, dared not let the black haired bastard behind her cause her body to weaken. One careless whimper or flinch and she would have a new and bloody red smile from ear to ear. She doubted it not one bit. As if seeing her predicament, Blonde Hair began a new assault on her mouth. He withdrew enough of his cock to cease her gagging, choking sounds and left his cock instead on her tongue. He gripped himself by the base and began to stroke himself, half gestures that went from his groin up to her lips. She tried to keep her mouth at a proper tightness, looking up at him imploringly. At this point, even after all the spite and hatred she felt over their ongoing abuse of her body, she knew she was coming desperately close to falling on his mercy. It would be Black Hair that would be ignorant to her plight. Blonde Hair she knew had some semblance of a heart, might take mercy. He was supposed to be a paladin, he was supposed to serve the light. How far had these grotesque acts upon her person taken him from his divine purpose and justice? At first he seemed to see nothing but her mouth, the wet round hole her lips were forming around his cock as he sawed in and out of her. Then he seemed to snarl even more, wanting something more than what she was giving him. That was when he looked into her eyes. Tiny tears had formed in the corners of each of her green irised eyes. The moisture was glistening and perfectly reflective in the light of the tent. She knew he couldn't help himself; the thumb of the hand holding the dagger moved to brush over her cheek, wiping away a single diamond-like tear that had escaped her eyes. She knew what was to be next. She knew this game. Without pause, she closed her eyes and barely tilted her head, but it was just enough to show her meaning. She leaned ever so minutely against his hand, and Blonde Hair dropped the dagger and it smacked on the ground as he gripped her face. Now, behind her, Black Hair was pounding with almost no rhythm, so lost in ecstasy was the overwhelmed human. She tightened her lips over Blonde Hair's cock, keeping her face in his hand. And she did her best not to wince or grimace when Black Hair withdrew his cock from her ass, stroking it free of his own cum and then wiping his hand on her cheek. Laughing all the while. He seemed to look over at his companion and sense the change in the tension. For a moment, he whispered to his friend, his tone low and warning. But Blonde Hair hissed at him, then pulled his eyes away from the elf's and glared. Black Hair laughed but he was nervous. He put his hands up in an obvious warding gesture and left the tent, making a show of doing his pants up and laughing as he exited. It was just the two of them now. Still her hands were behind her, still Blonde Hair gripped her long silken tresses. But now she knew the game could be won. Blonde Hair was not ruthlessly sawing back and forth now. He was enjoying the fresh stroking through her lips, and he wanted more. Now that his friend was gone, he didn't have the matter of pride, of something to prove. She kept her eyes closed, inhaling slowly through her nose, exhaling her warm breathe over his groin. He gripped her hair tighter, both hands moving to hold her steady over him by her hair and scalp. His grip was less than tender but not as gruff as it had been before. And she knew she might just survive tonight. If... She forced herself to think of past lovers. Of sweet foods and cakes and candy. Of thick steaks and rare delicacies. Anything that could help her mouth become wetter still. Soon she was salivating, her own spittle drooling out the corners of her mouth. Blonde Hair loved it, moaning uncontrollably as his cock quickly became coated in the hot spit. She swallowed around him, looking up at him as innocently as she could. She pictured her eyes wide and her brows arched, knowing this was the sort of image that would most please him. She ignored the pain her body was feeling from the bruises and the rape of her ass. Though her shoulders burned steadily, refusing to become numb to the strain of her hands bound to the pole behind her, she focused on only the one thing. Sucking Blonde Hair's cock as if they were lovers, known to each other, as if there was pleasure in having this most honorable privilege. The lie to herself worked for him too. Soon he was hissing and groaning, sawing words in a low and dark tone that told her they were dark and naughty. Did he talk to all his lovers this way? Or was he typically chaste, reserving himself for only his woman...his wife? Did paladins marry? Focus, she chastised herself. He will be finished soon if I just focus. She rolled her tongue around in her mouth, circling his thrusting cockhead and what of his shaft could fit between her lips. She bobbed her head to his rhythm, letting his tight grip in her hair show her how fast to move. She could taste his precum now, miniscule drops landing on her tongue and quickly being forced down her throat before she could taste the coming seed. Then it was happening. He was cumming. Blonde Hair gripped her head fully in his hands, pulling her rudely forward over his groin as he threw his head back and yelped in sudden agonized desire. He was pouring and spurting into her mouth, crying out loudly with each burst of cum, up until Black Hair opened the flap of the tent and said something mocking and disdainful. It would have gone well up to that point. Blonde Hair snarled at his friend, who quickly retreated. But when he turned back to the elven warlock whose mouth was still quickly gulping and swallowing every last drop of his cum, his wicked and angry glare had returned. His backhand across her face was swift and sharp and she fell to her knees. He was very lucky he withdrew when he had, else she would have chomped his cock off as her teeth slammed closed from the impact. She lay slightly crumpled on the ground, not able to fully collapse because of her arms behind her. Blinking away the dancing points of light behind her eyes, she slowly turned to look up at Blonde Hair. That was when he spit on her. She gasped, disgusted, and spit back at him. His foot came out swiftly, sweeping through the air as he kicked her in the side of the head. Ability to collapse aside, she could not deny the blackness that overwhelmed her as she fainted. All her pain followed her to the land of the unconscious though, and the visions in her troubled mind were merely reality replayed in painful intense looping scenes. Would it ever stop? Bruises So Blue Ch. 05 The first thing she felt was her own vomit rising up in her throat, burning across the strange dryness there, then gushing out over her tongue. Someone turned her to her side and it poured out of her and fell away. To where, she did not know. She was rolled onto her back again and left to fade away once more. The next thing she felt was a hot heat between her legs, as if something burning were pulled out of her. As if a burning brand reached into her and grabbed her belly button from behind and pulled it out her sex. She tried to fight it, to kick and scream. A soothing stillness settled over her mind though, and the pain that remained she was commanded to ignore. And again, she faded into the darkness once more. She didn't have any idea how long the black depths claimed her, how long she suffered the terrible nightmares that she could not wake from. In them she was chased by Blonde Hair, by Black Hair, through a forest that never ended. Sometimes they caught her and repeated their crimes against her body, only this time they were equipped with huge phalluses and claws that dripped black ooze and grime. Some dreams, she was running towards something, towards someone. She was being called but could never find by who. Always the woods, the forests hid the person she was seeking from her view. The voice was so insistent, so foreign and yet she was used to it. How many times had she had this dream? Was that why the voice felt so familiar? Her brow furrowed, she turned her head, snarling. "What is it? Why are you calling me?" "Because it's time to wake up, sweet heart." Carefully, she opened her eyes. The lights around her were dim and soft, but still her vision made her head hurt and everything was blurry. She tried to lift a hand to her face but found her limbs were all just too heavy. Was she drugged? Had she been sedated? Where was she? "You're in my home." It was the voice. She squinted her eyes and tried to look at who was speaking. It took several times before she was finally able to see more clearly the Kaldorei that hovered near her face with his own. She blinked and looked into his yellow eyes, knowing him slowly, more and more each minute. Associating his calm voice with the dream. With the man she had run into in the woods. The sharp cut of his nose, the fullness of his lips, the feel of his bare finger on her cheek. She didn't know if she should be fleeing these things or letting him continue to look at her just so, to touch her just so. She blinked at him, studying the cruel wrinkles around a mouth obviously more used to frowning than smiling. "Don't worry," he whispered in that strange accented voice, speaking her tongue. "You're safe. I've taken you away from...from all of that and you're safe." Suddenly the warlock started, her whole body going tense and her eyes going wide. She remembered now. Remembered everything. Where she was, what had happened, and where she had been. She gripped him because he was the closest thing for her to hold onto as her mind reeled with the returning memories. Her chest became tight and she struggled to breathe, unsure of what to do. Should she run? Should she hit him on the head and flee? His huge hand came out and touched her forehead, causing her to pull away, which only served to cause her greater pain somewhere in the back of her brain. She flinched and he seemed to sigh and nod. "I know. You're so very confused and afraid right now. I'm..." He paused and looked at her, his eyes wet. Was he crying? He held his head down for a moment, then looked away. "I'm so sorry for what you had to go through. It was the only way they'd let you live. They think I took you to my home on the great tree, and intended to kill you myself, because of our history." He seemed to blink then, before looking at her as he stroked her head. "They don't know you're still alive today. And they don't know where you are." Slowly, the elf woman settled. She stared into the man's glowing yellow eyes, looking from one to the other. She could still flee. He wasn't holding her down. But the pain in her head, and other parts of her body, was very intense. She could barely lift her arms and had no choice except to release her grip on him. She could flee. Or she could trust him. And he was indeed the reason she had come. She settled back against the cushions he had put around her sometime during her unconsciousness, and stared at him. "I know why you came," he whispered as his finger traced the line of her jaw. She could feel a bruise beneath the skin but one that was already healing and fading. The warlock watched his face, seeing his sincerity there. "I know that out there, in the other world, you had so much on your shoulders. I also know you've run from it all, and left it all behind. I watch you. I always have." The elven woman nodded slightly, encouraging him to continue. "Out there you are someone, to so many. But you came here. To my wood. To me. Just one person, and one who has so much to apologize for already, never mind this..this new agony." She turned her head away from him slowly, looking around the dark one room house he had brought her to. The lighting was still dark, like the forest atop the great tree. Were they still there? How far had he fled with her? There were shelves on the curved walls of the small home, and on the shelves were jars, no doubt filled with poisons and contaminants and chemicals. A discrete fire burned in the hearth, only one light lit. And the windows were purposely grimy and fogged, keeping any signs of life or light inside from escaping to the outside. No burning candles to brighten things. No decorations or items of sentimental value. A true rogue's home. She turned her eyes back to his face, taking in his patient smile. "Trust me," he whispered as he pulled away and stood impossibly tall, towering over her on the little cot. "It's why you came." For the next few days, he played nursemaid to her, his quiet and unspeaking patient. She said nothing to him, didn't ask him for anything, but he made sure as well that she wanted for nothing. Three days of pure convalescence left her weak and exhausted, but quickly healing. As he held a bowl of broth out to her, she half smiled at him and met his eyes for the first time. "Thank you." It was a start. Bruises So Blue Ch. 06 "Really," he said, smiling and holding his hand out to her. "It's okay. No one ever comes here. We're completely safe." She took his hand carefully, a gesture she had been getting used to. Holding his hand felt strange every time, but less because his darker skinned fingers and palm outsized her by several times and more because she liked the warmth of his grip on her. The taller, darker elf drew her towards him down the grassy shore of the lake they were standing by. She had realized a few days ago that he had brought her to a special oasis on the northernmost edge of one of the three known continents that made up their world. This particular glade was supposed to be a haven for all, and had been named after the moon or some moon goddess or something. She'd never enjoyed her time here in the past but now appreciated its solitude and discretion. She would hate it if her kin saw her relying so heavily on someone from a race she professed to despise. She'd hate it even more if they could see how easily he made her smile. Shyly she looked at him, trying not to let the corners of her mouth tilt up in pleasure as he brought her closer. She wondered if he knew what was happening between them, if it were something he had planned and intended and hoped for all along. Did he have any innocence in him, this enemy rogue? As she drew closer to him, wearing the fur lined garments he had brought to her, she could feel the power of his presence and feel herself succumbing to the beauty of the darkly wooded glade around them. He may have meant only to show her the lake itself and share with her a special quiet moment. Or maybe he thought she stank and he wanted to give her a real chance to bathe, rather than having her rely always on the big wooden half-barrel tub he'd put outside his little hovel. She let him pull her closer, until their bodies were touching, and looked up into his startled eyes. No, she realized. He had hoped maybe. And he had probably subtly planned. But he had never imagined he would hold her like this. Not after what she had recently endured. The elven woman put a pale hand up against his cheek, staring at the contrast in colours. His skin was a shade of grey. Her own was pure alabaster white. His skin was rough and almost weathered. Hers remained forever petal soft and smooth as a pearl. One of her fingers touched his lips, teasing over them. She could feel the power of his stare and now, his rising hunger. With great care she put her other hand against his face and cradled him, holding his cheeks. Then she lifted her green gaze to look into his eyes. For long moments, they stared into each other, breathless as he held her close, as she traced his mouth with her fingertips. Her eyes were locked to his, daring him to do something, anything. He silently refused, making no move to harm her, no attempt to destroy her. She could feel the muscle of his bare chest against her tunic as he continued to keep her close. But never was he holding her so tightly that she could not slip away. That's how his care had been over the last while. He did everything for her, did more for her once she began to speak and to ask for things. He filled the tub for her every day, with no complaint. He left her when she felt the tears of anguish welling up in her eyes. And he was always near when the bad dreams came. She knew they would end soon, the agonies and dreams. She was tough, she had a whole guild of people who were probably scouring the world looking for her, desperate to have her leadership and guidance and friendship back. That alone would give her the internal fortitude to survive through what had happened. But it might take something else to make the dreams go away. Before this moment, she had shuddered to think of returning to her lifestyle, one full of suitors and intimate friends. Political alliances often sealed with kisses or more. The very thought of her own husband touching her, trying to kiss or hold or caress her, had made her nauseous. He was worth everything, but the revolting memories of her double rape and humiliation were still so prevalent. They needed a different kind of cure than just friendship and devoted clan mates would provide. The pale haired elf woman raised herself up onto her toes, feeling his hands at her waist and around the small of her back coming up with her, supporting her. She slipped her hands around his head, her fingers lost in his pale white hair. Then she was kissing him. It was something she had never thought she would do. Never planned on. She'd entertained little fantasies of his wickedness, simply because she had such interesting appetites and could find even the most evil and vile of beings attractive. But never had she pictured it like this. He kept his hands behind her, holding her gently to him. His lips were warm and inviting, but not insistent. The kiss deepened, slowly, and it was she who put her tongue slowly into his mouth, gliding like a ghost in a dream and sliding against his own. When he moaned, the spell could have been broken if the sound didn't give her such a shiver of pleasure and delight. She put her arms around his neck, holding herself up, and felt him crouch his body slightly as he picked her up off the ground. One of his hands scooped behind her legs, pulling them out from under her as he moved to lay her on the grass. Their lips never parted, not until she felt the cool wet earth of the lake's shore behind her hair. He looked down at her, hovering carefully and closely to her face. His eyes were full of concern. "What are you doing, woman," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "What I want," was all she could respond. "Are you sure this is what you want?" She nodded. She was very sure. Her response seemed to give him pause and he chewed his lip with worry. But before he could decide for both of them that it was either too soon or not right or not meant to be at all, she was pulling him by the hair closer to her. With her fingers tangled in his snowy white tresses, she forced him to meet her mouth again, harder this time. And this time, he returned the kiss with a fire that almost outdid her own. She could feel his joy now, feel how very long he had been waiting for this exact moment. His whole body was shaking as she lay beneath him. And it made her smile. Confidently. She hadn't felt this confidence in so very long. Looking up at him, she felt the familiar hunger rising in her guts and overtaking her. She reached to her stomach and grabbed the hem of the crudely made shirt, pulling it over her head. His eyes went wide as he looked away from her face for the first time, to glance down at her naked breasts. That was when she rolled under his arm and away from him. Off to one side, she smiled and unfastened the short cut pants he had given her, kicking them away. She stood there naked for but a moment, then made her way into the warm water. And she let the healing begin. The natural buoyancy the water gave her made her feel so good, so cherished and alive. She swam under the ripples and waves, then came up, staring at the sky so very far away. She could feel the changes inside her soul, the new scars and wounds she carried. They might never heal. They didn't have to hinder though, nor did they have to change who she was. She went to her feet and stood up, then turned to look at him. He was exactly where she had left him, laying half on his side on the shore. His mouth was open as he looked at her. She swam towards him and slowly came out of the water, knowing he was enthralled by every step she took, by every droplet of water that slid down her almost perfect and mostly unmarred skin. "I feel better," she whispered, going to her knees before him. "I can tell." He gulped and the gesture made her feel such warmth. She was affecting him in the same way she affected all men. It was good to note that she could seduce a man of his race, if she so wished, she told herself. But she didn't want to do any seduction today. This day, it had to be something else. "Thank you for saving me," she whispered, gulping as a very real lump came into her throat. "You were only in danger because you came to me. You never should have." "Yes, I should have. I had to." She crawled to him, until she was next to him, cupping his face again in both her hands. "I should have come, a long time ago." Then she was kissing him again, and his arms were sweeping around her and holding her close, easily drawing her over and then under him. His mouth moved against hers, then fell to her neck, kissing along her wet skin til he was at her shoulder. "My gods," he whispered, looking down at her for a moment. "You are a vision, so very beautiful to me." The elven woman couldn't help it. She blushed. Her face became warm as he stared down at her. He moved to the side so his eyes could take in all of her faultless form, then he lifted a hand and put it to her chest. His fingers moved between her round breasts, and her chest rose up and down as she watched his eyes. Such wonderment filled his gaze as he put a single breast in his palm and rolled it gently beneath his grip. "My skin is so very dark over yours," he whispered, as if stunned. "And your hand is so big." He looked at her then, his eyes squinting almost as he stared. She forced herself to push on. "Is it just your hands that are big?" He swallowed again and seemed to shake his head at her. "My lady, you have no idea what you're saying to me." "I really do," she whispered back, putting her hand over his and sliding it slowly down her belly. "I really do." His mouth dipped to kiss her then, his lips grazing across one of her dark nipples. His fingers cupped her naked mons gently, as if he were afraid to touch her too much. She had expected he might feel that, after what he had witnessed her going through. She moved her legs apart and guided his long thick digits into her folds, letting him feel the wetness and excitement there. And she moaned as he moved his mouth to her other breast, his lips and tongue teasing at the erect nipple there. His fingers were dancing over her clit now, expertly. She was not bruised, she knew. She had checked just this morning, not in anticipation of this moment but out of pure vanity. And she had been pleased to see that whatever damage had once been done had now healed. "Please," she whispered to him, her voice almost pleading in its tone. He left his head, staring at her, hardly breathing. "What are you asking of me?" "You know..." "I can't. I shouldn't." "But you want to." She drew his hand away from her sex, keeping her eyes locked to his as she opened her mouth, suckling the moist fingertips, tasting her own excitement there. He was breathing now, very hard. When she released his hand, he moved it to his waist, slowly undoing his pants. "I need you to want to," she said softly. "Because I need to know someone else wants to. Anyone. Because..." He nodded, undoing his leggings and raising himself up to take them off. "Because you want to know you are still beautiful, still valuable. Not dirty, not used and worthless." She nodded, surprising herself as tears came to her eyes. He moved himself between her thighs and she could feel the startling length of his cock all the way up her belly. "You want to know how very precious you are," he spoke to her, holding her face with one hand and stroking her hair. "You want to feel beautiful, and alive, and know that you are still desired. Still rare in all your special ways." She sniffled, her eyes glistening with tears that sped away down her temples to become lost in her platinum crown of hair. He chased one with his fingertips, then put his hand next to her head, on the ground. He lifted himself up and carefully guided the thick head of his member against her swollen privacy. "You...are so very precious. A true rare pearl," he said tenderly, his eyes locked onto hers. She knew why he was hesitating. He was bigger than the paladin scum she had been tortured by, bigger than other elves she had known. She took a breath and steeled her courage, parting her thighs more and lifting her hips up, slowly drawing the thickest part of him inside. "Show me," her quivering voice begged. And he did. Slowly, carefully, he moved his lips to her mouth, barely brushing against her as he entered her. She closed her eyes tightly, grateful that there was little pain from her previous experience. Only the expected stretching of her sex to accommodate his girth. He was cautious, he was kind, moving into her only an inch at a time. His kiss remained ever present as he warily entered her, daring to moan only occasionally as he felt himself filling her and more. Somehow, he managed to bury himself completely inside her, right to the hilt. She struggled to breathe evenly but did not pull away. When she opened her eyes, it was to look up into his. He pushed her arms above her head so he could put his elbows to the earth and touch her face. And he stroked her hair, her skin, her cheeks with the backs of his fingers. "I waited for this, for so long," he confessed. "I know." "You never wanted this." "I never did." "But here we are..." She gulped, feeling him throbbing inside her privacy, amazed herself that he had somehow fit. "I ought to feel so in control right now," he said, "I ought to feel like the one with the power." As if to show her what he meant, he thrust his hips slightly, causing her to wince as familiar and exciting jolts of pleasure ran up and down her nerves. "So why do I feel suddenly like you own me?" She calmed her breathing and forced herself to stare at him, forced herself to feel what she felt each time a man had entered her with her consent. "Because I do." She lifted her small slender hands up to his face and drew him into yet another deep and enduring kiss as her hips rose up and then down. He matched her rhythm, his mouth glued to hers. As their bodies began to rise and fall in concert, their hips pushing and lifting and pressing together, they both felt the power of their shared fire. Unable to breathe, they had to stop kissing, but still their lips remained ever so close. Both whispered things, insane impossible and intense things that could never happen, endings to this episode that could never be. But for the moment, each believed in the passion and let the impossible slide away. Soon, both were crying out in fevered bliss. She could feel him at the base of her womb, about to burst beyond where a man is allowed to be in a woman. And she felt her body craving him, her nails tearing at his backside, cupping his ass and digging in. She came hard and felt him return the favour, felt his expanding cock inside her, exploding seed that gushed up into her womb and sloshed around without care for consequence. Tomorrow seemed so far away as they tore through this one rare moment and cast themselves into the next. Exhausted, he fell onto of her, then vainly tried to roll onto his back with her, to keep her from being crushed. She wanted to cling to him but could barely breathe and had to release him. His long thick member slid out of her sex and bumped wetly against her leg as he drew away, taking forever as it slid a slick trail across her thigh. Then at last they were apart. Each lay on the grassy shore, panting and shivering. Minutes passed as they stared at the sky. Then, carefully, her hand reached out to touch him, only to find his own already seeking her. As their fingers entwined, they rolled yet again towards each other. His lips met hers and she felt him hungrily devouring her mouth as her free hand slid down his body to find his cock already half hard. She stroked him regardless until he was erect, then drew him against her once more. They fucked for days, it felt like. She stopped counting after three. They only stopped in the end because the food ran out. He unwillingly left the small cot one morning to find a city and something solid for them to eat, because they'd been reduced to broth and old wine that made their heads ache. When he took too long to return, she sighed and got dressed with the clothes he had salvaged from her captors and had repaired. She washed herself and brushed her hair as best she could, using a man's comb. Then she packed her bags and threw them over her shoulders, leaving the little house in the glade and walking away to find her way to her real home. To her people. As she walked, she could feel his eyes on her. He hadn't gone for food. He had probably meant to. Maybe he was about to return home when he saw her leaving. Which of them had made the move? They would never know, perhaps. Maybe it was both. A confident smile played on her lips as she walked, knowing he followed her all the way to the small outpost and the flight master there. As she climbed gingerly onto the griffon's back and sat saddled just before the great wings, she paused and looked around her. In one of the bushes nearby, she knew he was watching, waiting for her to safely leave the glade unharmed. It was unlikely they would ever talk again. Maybe she would see him one day, strolling through the streets of one of the few neutral cities they both could visit without attack. She would not acknowledge him, not at first. But she knew that once her kin had passed him by, unaware of who had saved her that night so long ago, she herself would find some excuse to pause. She would glance at him over her shoulder, over the thin strap of a black or golden threaded dress. And she would smile. Wantonly. Hungrily. Or maybe, just maybe, gratefully.