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Eloise

By: SamScribble



Williamson had just played a glorious cover drive when my phone rang. Since I could see that it was Brian, I was tempted not to answer. On the other hand, I knew that he would just keep pressing redial until I did.

'What?'

'Where are you?'

'At home,' I said. 'Watching cricket. On the box.'

'Good,' he said.

'Good?'

'Yes. I thought that you might have been doing something important.'

'Watching cricket is important,' I said.

'You can watch the highlights package later. That way, you won't have to watch the boring bits.'

'The boring bits - as you call them - are what cricket's all about.'

'Whatever,' Brian said. 'Anyway, I need you to come down to The Squirrel. A-sap.'

'Oh?'

'There are a couple of women here. One of them is definitely my type. I might even have to marry her.'

'So, why do you need me?' I asked. 'Sounds like you have it all sorted.'

'Easier if there are two of us. You know ... in case we have to split them up. Divide and conquer.'

The bowler lost his line, and I watched as Williamson tickled the ball around the corner and down to the fine leg boundary. Beautiful. Effortless. 'Oh, OK,' I said. 'You're buying. See you in five.'

'I'll have a small shandy waiting with your name on it.'

Even before I got to The Squirrel's Drey, I knew what Brian's 'my type' woman would look like. Somewhere between 25 and 35; skinny; probably blonde; and wearing the kind of designer clothes that would have cost a fortune but didn't really suit her.

'Those two,' Brian said, nodding not very discreetly towards a table in the corner. And, yes, I was right: blonde; skinny; etcetera, etcetera. At least one of them was. The other one was dark and ... well ... plump. Although I have to say she was by no means unattractive. I followed Brian across to their table.

'Evening, ladies,' he said. 'I'm Brian. Mind if George and I join you?'

The skinny one - who clearly considered herself to be 'in charge' - frowned a little, looked Brian up and down, and then said: 'Yeah. OK then. I'm Janey.'

'Nice to meet you, Janey.'

'And this is Eloise.'

Brian smiled and nodded. 'I don't think I've seen you lovely ladies in here before.'

'Umm ... no,' Janey said. 'Not really our neck of the woods. Just been looking at a flat along the road. Thought I needed a glass of fizz.'

'Any good?'

Janey looked at her champagne and frowned.

'The flat, I mean,' Brian said.

Janey shook her head. 'No. Terrible. That's why I needed the fizz.'

Eloise frowned. 'Oh, I wouldn't say terrible,' she said. 'Just not ... quite ... what you were hoping for.'

'That's what I said. Terrible,' Janey repeated.

'Are you looking for a place to rent?' Brian asked.

'Buy.'

'Oh. Right. Buy.' Brian's older brother, Terry, was an estate agent, and I could hear Brian's brain going into overdrive at the thought of a handsome referral fee. 'So ... what exactly are you looking for?'

As Brian and Janey got down to the business of discussing Janey's rather demanding property needs, I thought that I had better do my best to pull Eloise into the conversation. 'And are you looking for a place, too?' I asked. 'To buy, I mean.'

Eloise's face lit up and she laughed as if I had just told a particularly good joke. 'Around here? Are you kidding? A bit out of my league, I think.'

And then, suddenly, Brian and Janey were getting up from the table. 

'Just going to take Janey to meet Terry,' Brian said. 'We'll be back in half an hour or so.' Oh well, he did that it would be easier if there were two of us. 'You know ... in case we have to split them up.' Yeah, thanks, Brian.

'Well, Eloise, your drink seems to have evaporated. Perhaps I can get you another.'

For a moment or two, Eloise looked as if she was going to say no. But then, once again, her face lit up like the sun breaking through a bank of clouds. 'Why, thank you, George. That would be very nice.'

I returned the cooking lager that Brian had bought me and got the barman to pull me a pint of Pedigree. 'And whatever the young lady's having,' I said.

'That'll be Bacardi, lime, and soda,' the barman said.

I also bought a couple of bags of salt 'n' vinegar crisps. 'I didn't have time for lunch,' I explained to Eloise.

'Oh, you don't need an excuse to eat crisps,' she said. 'At least I don't.' And she laughed again.

For the next 20 or 25 minutes, Eloise and I sipped our drinks, munched the crisps, and chatted like a couple of old friends. And then my phone rang. It was Brian. He was half whispering - as if he didn't want anyone else to hear him.

'Terry's just going to show Janey and couple of flats,' he said. 'And then I'm thinking that I might see if I can get my leg over. We seem to be getting on rather well.'

'And so when are you planning to be back here?' I asked.

'Umm ... probably not.'

'Not at all?'

'No.'

'Gee, thanks,' I said. And I pressed the Call End button. 'It seems that we have been abandoned.'

'Abandoned?' Eloise said.

'Brian and your friend ...'

'Janey.'

'Yes. Janey. They've gone to look at flats. And they're probably not coming back. Well ... not today, anyway.'

Eloise briefly frowned - as if she was having difficulty in making sense of it all. But then her smile returned and she shrugged her shoulders. 'Oh well ... in that case I'd better buy you a drink. What was it? Pedigree?'

A few days later, Brian told me that his attempt to help Janey find a flat to buy turned into a bit of a nightmare. 'Boy, that woman is high maintenance,' he said. 'Buckingham Palace wouldn't be good enough for her. Just because her family owns half of Bedfordshire.'

'Do they?'

'Apparently.'

'I take it that you didn't get your leg over then.'

Brian grunted and took another sip of his beer. 'Oh, and sorry to leave you with her fat friend,' he said.

'Eloise?'

'Was that her name?'

'Yeah. And she was actually quite nice.'

'Really?' Brian looked surprised.

'Yeah, really.' I didn't mention that Eloise and I had sort of hit it off and that we were going to catch up for a drink at her Shepherd's Bush local on Saturday afternoon.

'OK. Whatever,' Brian said. (Brian often said whatever.) 'But I still feel bad about it, so I've bought us a couple of tickets for the Middlesex match on Saturday.'

'This Saturday?'

'Yeah. This Saturday. They're playing Sussex.'

'Yeah. But no, I can't do Saturday. Sorry. Not this Saturday.'

'Why not?'

'Umm ...' Why couldn't I? Good question. 'My aunt. Aunt Gemma. Yes, she's coming up to town. It's her once-a-year thing. You know how it is. Wants me to have lunch with her.'

'Well, why don't I see if I can get another ticket, and then we can have lunch at Lord's.'

'No. That wouldn't work. Aunt Gemma hates cricket. Look why don't you take your new friend Janey. Give you another chance to have a go at getting your leg over. Not at the cricket, of course. That might be a bit unseemly. But afterwards perhaps.'

'I gather she only likes sport if she's watching it from a corporate box. You know ... a glass of fizz, some smoked salmon, a bit of caviar.'

'Take a hamper,' I suggested.

On Saturday, I made sure that I was out of the flat just after midday. I also turned off my phone. I didn't want Brian catching me out. I ambled down New Bond Street, Old Bond Street, and then across to galleryland. Moseying around some of the smart dealer galleries used up close to two hours, and then I burned off another three-quarters of an hour - give or take - at a half-decent coffee shop. From there, I headed out to Shepherd's Bush via Bond Street and White City.

From the Tube station, it was about a five minute walk to Eloise's local. And I must say that it was a pleasant surprise. It was one of those traditional pubs that had been modernised - but not too much. It was like a cross between a traditional London pub and an All Bar One. And it had two big-screen TVs, both showing the cricket. 

It had only just gone four, and Eloise and I had agreed to meet at 4:30, so I ordered myself a pint and sat down to watch the match. Middlesex were 198 for four, chasing 278. The required run rate was just over 8.

'A doddle,' said a voice behind me. 'Still six batsmen back in the hutch. It's a done deal.'

I turned around and there was Eloise. 'So you're a cricket fan?' I said.

'Oh yeah.'

'Well, in that case, you keep an eye on this and I'll go and get you a drink. What will it be?'

'Thank you. A pint of Stella would be nice.'

'Not Bacardi, lime, and soda?'

'Only when I'm drinking with Janey. She doesn't approve of women drinking beer.'

Eloise was right. Middlesex got home with nine balls to spare. 'What did I tell you?' she said.

'You said it was a done deal. And you were right. I think we should celebrate.' I gathered up our glasses and headed back to the bar.

'You missed a good game,' Brian said when I caught up with him a few days later.

'Yeah, it looked like a good game. I caught the last hour or so on TV,' I said.

'Right. And how was your aunt?'

'Oh, pretty much as always.'

'Pity she doesn't like cricket.'

I nodded. 'And how are things going with the lovely Janey?'

'They're not really. I think I'll have to mark that one down to experience. But I met this real stunner at The Volunteer. On the way back from the cricket. She was with this bloke. But he was a bit of a damp squib. And I managed to get her phone number.'

'So ... all set then.'

'Yeah. I just need to work out a bit of a plan. Shouldn't be too difficult.'

'Good luck,' I said.

I wasn't really surprised when Eloise phoned to invite me for supper.

'Say seven o'clock?'

'Yeah, fine,' I said. 'Can I bring anything?'

'Just you.'

'What colour wine.'

'Up to you,' she said. 'I'm thinking that I might do something with duck. But, as I say, up to you.'

Duck? I immediately thought pinot noir. Full of flavour, but not too heavy. I was pretty sure that I still had a couple of bottles of gold medal-winning New Zealand pinot noir in my mini 'cellar' under the stairs. Yes, one of those should do nicely.

More by luck that judgement, I arrived at Eloise's Shepherd's Bush flat pretty much on the stroke of seven.

'Gosh, is it that time already?' she said. 'I was going to have everything ready for when you arrived but, as usual, I'm a bit behind.'

'That's OK,' I said. 'I could just hang out here in the street for half an hour or so.'

Eloise laughed. I liked that about her. Eloise laughed a lot.

'You'll just have to come into the kitchen and supervise,' she said.

I thought that my kitchen was small, but Eloise's galley kitchen made a telephone box look spacious.

'There's beer in the fridge,' she said. 'And glasses are in the cupboard in the living room, just around the corner. You're in charge.'

I grabbed a couple of glasses and a couple of bottles of Peter Pickleman light stout from the six-pack in the fridge. 'I assume that you'd like one.'

'Does that Pope fellow have a balcony?'

I poured two beers and passed one of them to Eloise. 

'Cheers,' she said.

'Cheers.'

Eloise took a sip (well, a draft, really) and went back to chopping (with considerable expertise) a couple of shallots and an assortment of mushrooms. And then, from a pot of barely simmering water, she produced a couple of bright green plastic-wrapped 'sausages'. 

'Looks interesting,' I said.

'Duck breasts,' she said, 'wrapped in savoy cabbage leaves.' She stabbed one of the fat sausages with a meat thermometer and watched, intently, as the needle rose. It stopped at 55°C. 'That should do it.' 

From the unsteady stack of pots and pans atop the refrigerator, she took a couple of medium-sized pans and placed them onto the gas hob. Into one of the pans she put a slosh of olive oil and a knob of butter. Then, when the butter had almost melted, she added the finely-chopped shallots. Three or four minutes later, she added the chopped mushrooms and a liberal grind of salt and pepper. And then, after another couple of minutes, she added half a cup of cream.

'Damn. I meant to add some thyme,' she said. 'Oh well ... better late than never.' And she plucked a sprig of fresh thyme from a pot on the windowsill and stripped the tiny leaves into the gently simmering mushroom mixture.

'You're quite the little Master Chef,' I said. 

Eloise laughed. 'I wouldn't say that. But I do like food. Which is probably why I'm not the little anything. I thought you would have worked that out by now.'

Like food? Yes, one only had to see her at work in the kitchen. But more than that, I got the impression that Eloise liked life. And she liked it in generous portions.

'Right. Off, off, and down,' she said, turning off two of the gas burners, and turning the third, the one below the empty pan, to its lowest setting. 'I thought we'd finish off our beer with a few oysters - au naturel - and then we can move on to the duck.'

'Hence your choice of the Pickleman.'

'OK?' she asked.

'Oh, very OK,' I said. 'Very OK indeed.'

Eloise produced a large platter of chilled oysters on the half shell. I gathered up our beer and followed her through the living room and out onto the small flag-stoned patio beyond the French doors.

The oysters were delicious. 'And I love this dressing,' I said. 'Sort of sweet and hot and salty all at the same time. And yet it doesn't overpower the oysters.'

Eloise smiled and nodded. 'Basically, wasabi, Mirren, and soy. As you say: sweet, hot, and salty. It works well, doesn't it? It also works with things like tempura prawns.'

There must have been about 18 oysters on the platter, but it wasn't long before it was just a platter of empty shells. They were perfect.

'Right, now let's go and finish off the duck,' Eloise said. 'Or you can just sit here if you like.'

'No. I'd like to watch,' I said. 'I'm intrigued.'

Back in the tiny kitchen, Eloise turned up the heat under the empty pan. Then, with a hand blitzer, she reduced the mushroom and cream mixture to a smooth sauce. Into the heating pan she tossed some thin strips of something. 'Duck skin,' she said. 'It makes a nice garnish.'

As the duck skin strips started to crisp up, she undid the cling film wrap from the duck breast and cabbage 'sausages'. She trimmed off the rounded ends, and then cut each of the sausages into three portions.

Two warm plates were produced from the oven and a generous sweep of the mushroom sauce was spread on each plate. The duck and cabbage rounds were placed - artistically - on top of the swooshes of sauce.

'Oops! I almost forgot the spuds,' she said, reaching for the Start button on the microwave. 'I know that some people look down on using a microwave but, for some things, I think they're brilliant.'

Another couple of shakes of the pan in which the duck skin was crisping, and it was time to spoon the contents out onto a stack of folded sheets of paper towel. 'Almost there. Have you got the wine open?'

From the microwave, came what appeared to be a perfectly reheated pommes purée. Eloise grinned. 'See. That's what a microwave can do.' She spooned some of the purée onto each plate, and then scattered the slivers of crisp duck skin over the top of everything.

'Right, time to eat,' she said.

And so we did. The food was excellent; the company was delightful; and the wine choice - even if I do say so myself - was spot on, the Central Otago pinot noir complementing the duck and mushroom perfectly.

'Tell me about your friend Janey,' I said as I scraped the last of the delicious sauce from my plate.

Eloise frowned slightly and seemed a little disappointed. 'Did she phone you?'

'Did she phone me? No. Why would she phone me?'

'Oh. I just thought that she might have. She asked me for your number.'

'Oh,' I said. And then after a while I said: 'Are you sure that she didn't mean Brian? Are you sure that it wasn't Brian's number that she wanted?'

Eloise laughed. 'No. She had some ... well ... not very nice things to say about Brian. It seems he may have misread her intentions slightly.'

I nodded. 'He does sometimes rush in where angels fear to tread.'

Eloise laughed again. 'So, what do you want to know?'

'Well, for a start, how do you come to know each other?'

'We met at Cambridge.'

'University?'

Eloise nodded. 'And then when I had been at GSK for about six months, Janey turned up there too.'

From Eloise's smile, I think I must have looked a bit surprised. 'I see. So Janey works at GSK too?'

'Yes. She's also a biochemist. We even worked on the same project for a year or so - although she's working on something else now.'

'I didn't realise,' I said. 'I mean that she was a biochemist.'

Eloise laughed. 'You thought that she was just a lady who lunched?'

'Well ... I certainly didn't pick her for a scientist. From what Brian said, I got the impression that she was ... well ... yes, a lady who lunched. I suppose. I gather she comes from a rather well-to-do family.'

'With her champagne tastes, it's probably just as well,' Eloise said. 'But that doesn't stop her from being a bloody good biochemist.'

'So, is she ... umm ... Doctor Janey?'

Eloise nodded. 'Penelope Jane Mathilda Morris, PhD.'

Eloise's revelations were interesting. In fact, they were very interesting. I had completely misjudged Janey. As, indeed, it seemed had Brian. 

But the 'Janey diversion' had also introduced a moment of hesitation into the course of my evening with Eloise. I was no longer sure where it was headed. Eloise and I had hit it off from that first half hour in The Squirrel - the half hour in which we had been abandoned but hadn't yet realised it. And things had just got better from there. But now ... well ... I suddenly started to worry that perhaps I may have misread Eloise's intentions (as Brian had misread Janey's). Were we heading for Eloise's bedroom? Or were we destined to become 'just good friends'?

Janey did phone me. 'I need to talk,' she said. 'That place ...? What was it? The Squirrel's Drey?'

'The Squirrel. Yes.'

'Seven o'clock this evening?'

By the time that Janey arrived, it was more like 7:30. But, hey, that's London for you.

'So what are your intentions?' she said, as I placed a glass of the house fizz in front of her.

'My intentions?'

'You know what I mean. Where are you going with Eloise?'

'Oh,' I said. 'I think that might be up to Eloise.'

Janey tilted her head back and looked at me down her elegant patrician nose. 'Up to Eloise?'

'Well ... sort of,' I said.

'Do you like her?'

'Do I like her? Yes. Very much. But, look, I'm not sure why we are having this discussion.'

'Because Eloise is my friend,' Janey said.

'I rather gathered that.'

'And I don't like to see my friends being messed about. I don't like to see them getting hurt.'

For a split second, I was tempted to say: 'In that case, maybe you should look the other way.' But I didn't. Whatever it was that Janey was trying to say, it seemed to be really important to her. 'And so what does this have to do with my intentions?' I asked.

'Eloise is a good woman,' Janey said. 'Intelligent ... warm ... witty.'

'You and I are on the same page,' I told her.

'But for ... well ... for almost as long as I can remember, she has struggled with men. She has always been what might be described as a big girl. At university, there was a certain coterie that always referred to her as Ellie. Not Ellie for Eloise, but Ellie for elephant.

'And, as Ellie the Elephant, she was always accepted at the pub and, often, as the object - and, yes, that's what it came down to: object - of an after-pub fuck by some chap who should have known better.'

I said nothing.

'The point is ... most men seem to have a preference for ... well ... less generously proportioned women than Ellie. Your friend Brian is typical of that kind of man. He keeps referring to Ellie as "the fat chick".'


Eloise



'Brian can sometimes be a bit thoughtless,' I said. 'But, most of the time, he means well.'

'Maybe,' Janey said. 'But I'm not here to talk about Brian. I'm here to talk about you. I gather that you have seen Ellie - Eloise - on a number of occasions.'

'Yes. We've ...' How could I put it? 'We've touched bases once or twice,' I said.

Again, Janey tilted her head, and viewed me down her elegant patrician nose. 'And ...?'

'Well ... I find her very, umm, pleasant,' I said. 'I've already said that, haven't I?'

'So you like her?'

'Very much.'

'So ... what's the next step?'

'I'm not sure,' I said. 'But I get the feeling that you are going to tell me.'

Janey shook her head. 'Men,' she said. And then she shook her head again. 'Look, you like her; she likes you; you're both unattached - well, as far as I have been able to ascertain you're unattached ...'

'I am,' I said.

'So my suggestion is: take her somewhere for a nice dinner - she appreciates good food and wine - and then take her back to yours - hers if it's more convenient - and fuck her. Pretty simple really.'

'Well, when you put it like that,' I said.

We went to Scrivano's, a Tuscan-inspired restaurant on the border between Notting Hill and Holland Park. I hadn't been there for a year or so, but I'm happy to report that little had changed. The menu still had all the old favourites: Crostini Toscani, Lardo di Colannata, Ribollita, Cacciucco, and of course Bistecca alla Fiorentina. 

Eloise and I began with the deliciously creamy Lardo (I do like a girl who's not afraid to eat a bit of fat), and then we moved on to Scrivano's seafood-packed version of Cacciucco. To accompany, we chose a bottle of wonderfully-rounded Vernaccia di San Gimignano.

'Excellent food,' Eloise said. 'And the wine works really well with it.'

'I hope that you have left a small space for a slice of the wonderful chestnut cake,' I said. 'Crisp crust, and a deliciously-soft melt-in-the-mouth centre. And the balance between the creaminess of the chestnut and the slightly pungency of the rosemary is something rather special.'

Half an hour later, Eloise was in full agreement.

'Right. Your place or mine?' I said. Well, there was no point in beating about the bush - Shepherd's or any other.

Eloise smiled. 'I think mine's probably closer.' She glanced at her watch. 'And if we wander back to Holland Park Avenue, we should be able to find a cab.'

And so that's what we did.

On the eve of my going to university, my Uncle Toby took me to dinner at his club. I remember that we had excellent steak and kidney pudding with a large dob of bright yellow mustard on the side. We also had a bottle of Burgundy that probably cost the equivalent of a week-for-two in Benidorm. 'When starting out on a new phase in life, it always pays to begin with a decent meal,' my uncle said. Although I'm not sure that I realised it at the time, supper at Scrivano's was the start of another new phase in my life.

The first inkling should have come when Eloise and I left the restaurant holding hands. And it was all so natural that I didn't even notice that we were holding hands until we had walked a good 50 or so metres in the direction of Holland Park Avenue. And then we stopped - right there in the middle of the pavement. Don't ask me why. We just did. And we turned towards each other and kissed.

'Hmm. That was nice,' Eloise said. 'We should do that more often.'

'We will,' I assured her. 

In the back of the cab, on the way back to Eloise's flat, we continued to hold hands, but Eloise was uncharacteristically quiet. 

Eventually she said: 'Look, are you sure that you want to do this?'

'Why? Are you having second thoughts?'

'No. But I don't want you to feel that you have to be ... well ... be kind to me. I don't want you to feel that you have to show the fat chick a good time. The dinner was lovely. You could stop now, if you want to.'

I laughed. 'I'm not sure that Janey should have told you about Brian.'

'Oh, it's OK. I'm used to it. It's not just Brian,' she said.

I nodded. 'Well, personally, I like a girl with a few curves. But, even more than that, I like a girl with a good mind. And I like a girl with an appetite for life. And you certainly have both of those.'

'Well, if you're sure,' she said.

'I am.'

When we reached Eloise's flat, we kissed again. And then, for a moment, we faced that new lovers' dilemma of who does what next.

'Right,' I said, trying to sound decisive - but, in fact, having no idea of what I was going to do or say next.

'The bedroom?' Eloise suggested. 

I nodded. 'Good idea.'

'Unless, of course, you'd prefer the kitchen. Or maybe the garden?'

'The garden? Yes. Yes, that might be ... umm ... fun,' I said. 'But I have a feeling that it's going to rain. So ... perhaps the bedroom.'

Eloise led the way and I followed. The journey from the tiny entranceway to the bedroom used up all of four-and-a-half seconds. Maybe five. 'Well, this is it,' she said.

Initially, my brain took 'this is it' to mean: 'This is it. We can't put it off any longer.' But then I wondered if she simply meant: 'This is it; this is the bedroom.' Oh, what the hell? We couldn't put it off any longer - whether that's what she had meant or not. As I said, there had already been quite enough beating about the bush. I pulled her to me and kissed her once more - this time slipping my hand up under her skirt and letting it come to rest on her delightfully-plump, fabric-covered crotch.

'I think,' I said, keeping my hand on her crotch and subtly feeling for the warm valley that I knew would be between her plump pussy lips, 'you might be more comfortable if you moved back slightly and sat on the edge of the bed.'

Eloise smiled. 'You think so?'

'I do. But first ... we might need to take your skirt off. What do you think? We wouldn't want to get it creased.'

'You're very sensible, aren't you?' Eloise said.

'I can be. Sometimes.'

Eloise manipulated some fastener or other at the side of her skirt, lowered a zip, and started to lower her skirt. 'Umm ... much as I don't really want you to, I'm going to have to ask you to move your hand,' she said. 'Just for a second or two.'

'Yes. I suppose that I should,' I said. 'Just for a second or two.'

'Just for a second or two,' she confirmed.

Beneath the disappearing skirt, Eloise was wearing a black lace suspender belt and black knickers with a solid black satin-like panel down the front and bright red trim. And I'm pleased to say that, unlike so many 'staged' erotic photographs, Eloise knew that the knickers go outside the suspender belt.

I pushed her gently back to the edge of the bed. 'I think that you should spread those beautiful thighs just a little,' I said.

'Like this?'

'Perfect,' I said. I put my mouth on her satin-covered crotch and gently exhaled.

'Oh, yes,' Eloise said. 'Oh, yes.'

As my nostrils filled with the erotic fecund aroma emanating from her cunt, I suggested that, perhaps, the knickers might have to go.

'Well, if you think so,' she said.

'I do.'

I must confess that I had seen enough cunts to know that they are all different. And, in my experience, they are all beautiful. Some are little more than neat slits; others are more like exotic flowers in full bloom. Eloise's was somewhere in between. Her slightly plump outer lips were reasonably unremarkable; but her generous inner lips did remind me of a beautiful flower. My tongue had a mind of its own.

'Oh, yes,' she said. 'Yes. Yes. Yes."

It only took another ten or twelve minutes before Eloise broke into a shuddering explosion of squeals and giggles. 'Oh, yes. Yes, yes - fucking yes!' she said.

'I'll take that as yes then,' I said. I should have realised that, with my head tucked between her thighs, I was in no position to be a smartarse. Thwack! Oh well. 'What next?' I said.

'I think you're overdressed.'

'Perhaps,' I said. 'You want me to take my shoes and socks off?'

'Socks? Definitely. And whatever else you are wearing under there.'

By the time that I had divested myself of my lower garments, my cock was half-hard - well, probably more than half hard.

'Very nice,' Eloise said. 'Very nice indeed.'

'Umm ... we probably should ... you know ...'

'Top drawer,' she said. 'I popped into Boot's on my way home.'

I retrieved one of the foil packets. 'Latex Free. Posh.'

'Well, I didn't know,' Eloise said. 'I thought ... you know ... just in case.'

I gave my cock a few encouraging pumps and then carefully fitted the condom over the end of my purple-helmeted soldier and rolled it down. And then, after giving her cunt one more wet kiss, I gently lifted and spread Eloise's legs and lined up the 'latex-free' head of my cock with her glistening entrance. From the smile on her face, I guessed that this was not the worst thing that I could have done.

We started out slowly and then gradually increased the pace. 'Oh, that feels ... so good,' Eloise said. 'So good.'

'And this?' I said, slipping a hand between us and massaging her clit with the ball of my thumb.

'Mmm. Fantastic.'

All things considered, we could have been made for each other. We certainly managed to come within seconds of each other. Ladies first, of course.

When we had both caught our breath and cleaned up a little (Eloise - clever girl - had a packet of wet wipes handy), we half cuddled on the bed. 'Are you staying?' she said.

'Am I invited?' I asked.

She shook her head. 'Invited? No. Commanded.'

'Well, in that case ...'

After another five minutes or so, Eloise suggested that we should probably remove the rest of our clothes and get under the duvet. 'Perhaps I could help you,' I said. I unbuttoned her shirt and covered the exposed upper curves of her breasts with little kisses.

'Mmm, yes,' she said. And then, after a moment or two, she said: 'Maybe I should sit up.'

'It might be easier,' I said. With Eloise sitting up, we removed her shirt. And her bra - black with bright red trim to match the now long-gone knickers. Her naked breasts were unquestionably large - but surprisingly firm and beautifully shaped. Of course I had to cover them in with more kisses.

Eloise giggled. 'I should warn you: you're starting to make me tingle again,' she said. 'And you know what that leads to.'

I glanced down at my wilted cock. 'I think you might need to give me ten minutes,' I said.

'Ten minutes?' she said. 'I'm impressed. But I can wait.' And we both laughed.

The following day, Sunday, dawned bright and mild. Not a bad day for the first day of the next stage of my life.



Eloise's Journey



Note from the actual author: This is a fantasy story I wrote sometime ago. Apologies to the various fantasy authors I was inspired by/shamelessly cribbed from. Any similarities to any actual people living or dead is unintentional, which should probably be assumed being as it's fantasy.

The Calandrian Chronicles: Eloise's Journey

From the pen of Tatiana Eversure, Royal Calandrian Historian, junior grade:

In my role as Royal Calandrian Historian I've been tasked by this office with relating the following story for public consumption. A story that on it's surface may seem somewhat frivolous but is an important one in the history of our great Nation and will, in this record, be relayed authoritatively to the people for the first time While it took place near 20 years ago when I was a small girl, every detail has been confirmed to me both by the people at it's core who are still with us as well as verified by documentation where possible. As a result, this book will bear the symbol of this office, meaning it is now the official account of the story, long the subject of much gossip and half-truths.

To understand this story some geographic knowledge is required of the Kingdoms and Nations mentioned within. While the principal nations are well known regionally, interest of this story is widespread, being as it has inspired similar undertakings around the globe. As such a very amateur verbal cartography will be undertaken. 

The primary, of course, is Calandria itself. A relatively small, coastal nation on the eastern side of the Great Western Continent. Calandria has always had little in the way of land but blessed by what land there was. The Great Coastal Mountains encircle our western borders, providing the bountiful mineral resources that has long made Calandrian wealth the envy of many while simultaneously acting as the country's best defence against any aggression from those envious parties. Attempts by foreign parties to invade via the narrow mountain paths have always been beaten back by our dedicated soldiers with the bare minimum of casualties and the maximum of ease. After the mountains there is a relatively small valley of good farmland and roads before one reaches the capital city. The capital city encompasses the entire coastal region. The world's largest and busiest seaport is here which allows our ships to trade our wealth across the globe as well as providing docking for the unrivalled Royal Calandrian Navy. Thus it is that we are protected on land by the mighty mountains and on sea by our powerful ships. 

These reasons, among others, explain why in it's long history, Calandria has never been successfully been invaded or there been a serious attempt made to do so. For near two thousand years, since the old Western Empire was fractured, Calandria has been a stable and prosperous nation. The people of Calandria noble and true, their skins tanned a light brown by the sun of our coast and their mannerisms orderly and refined.

The Ascibian Empire is, I suppose, the secondary player here. A nation of tremendous physical size but little by way of resources. It's once powerful military had been humbled in recent attempts at conquest at the time of our story. This led to economic problems within as, naturally, once a nation who has built itself on the spoils of war as well as dedicated much of their production to supplying their armies with supplies and materials finds itself in peacetime they can find the foundation they've built their economy upon to be a precarious one. 

Despite these problems, The Ascibians had long been friends to Calandria for both geographic and economic reasons. Calandria was and is the Empire's largest trading partner. The Empire had the vast and bountiful farmlands Calandria didn't and required the metals and money that Calandria could exchange. Calandria has always been surrounded on all sides by the Ascibians. They shared the mountainous border to our west and stretched on for hundreds of miles both North and South. Trading via land would be near impossible without a friendly relationship with the Ascibians. Once the dominant power on the continent, at the time of our story they were thought by many to be in the final stages of any real power. Physically, Ascibian people tend towards the pale and slender. 

The final nation relevant to our story is Nilfenhem. Less a nation really than a loose tribal collection of pirates, hunters, fishermen and raiders united under the banner of a War Chief. The harsh icy coasts of the North and several of the larger islands in the Frozen Sea were the lands they called home. Perhaps a result of the harsh climes, their people grew abnormally large and strong. It was their victories over the Ascibians that truly halted the Empire's aggressive tendencies and, though now at peace, there remained an unease between the two nations.

Throughout the story there may some historical issues that may need clarification. If so, I will provide editors annotations as RCH. 

A final note before our story begins. Some of you may be asking both how I'm able to relay such intimate details about the events as well as why this office would write of them in such ribald and descriptive terms. The answer to the first question is simply the diligent research this office is known for combined with extensive interviews. The answer to the second, I suspect anyway, is that some of our drier histories have sold quite poorly amongst the public of late and our office is facing it's bi-annual budgetary review. I'm told amongst the common folk that tales of this sort are quite popular. 

~Chapter One, in which tensions boil over~

"It is foolishness, utter foolishness" 

Those were the words spoken by Princess Eloise as she paced about her sitting room. If she'd been the sort to swear or throw things she might very well have done so. This was not in her character, however. She'd been raised to be the very picture of stolid Calandrian royalty and the fire in her blue eyes were the only outward signs of her anger and disbelief. The wind was cool, a light breeze coming in from the bay that the Seaside Castle overlooked.

Our Princess was truly a beauty. She was said by all who saw her to not just conform to the standards of Calandrian appearance but also to be the finest example of it seen to date. She was of medium height with long, golden hair that was usually tied into an elaborate braid and skin that had been lightly kissed by the sun. Her face was at once aristocratic and delicate. High cheekbones and and a small, slightly upturned nose spoke to her high breeding while the sparkling sapphires of her eyes as well as the fullness of her lips simply spoke to how blessed she'd been. Her body was slender, soft and exceedingly well curved. Those curves, while earning her the admiration of all visiting nobility, palace guards and the occasional lucky messenger, tended to be well obscured by the formal, flowing silks she was required to wear as crown princess. 

Truly, if she was one of many children she'd have been a terrific boon to her father. He could have demanded near anything he wanted for her hand and likely have found twenty dukes or visiting kings willing to pay the price.

But she was not one of many. She was one of one. The only child birthed by her mother, Queen Wilhelmina, before her tragic death when the Princess was only two years old. Eloise's marriage would determine the next King and the foolishness of which she spoke was the decision made in that regard. Today was the day marking her 18th year and, as custom, her betrothal had been announced. King Pietrus the IV had announced that she would be married to Francis, youngest of the three sons of the Ascibian Emperor. 

(RCH: King Pietrus, though some may see him as the villain of this piece, was said by many to be a far more reasonable man before the death of his wife. Whether this is true or not, he was widely been come to known as King Pietrus the Incredibly Short-Sighted.)

"I don't know, Milady" spoke Georgina, one of the Princess' attendants "Francis is quite handsome and a Prince to boot. Girl could do worse."

"Don't be so bloody daft." the Princess replied, using language that was among the harshest she'd ever spoken "I was always going to marry someone of high birth. And handsomeness has nothing to do with the matter."

Eloise was no naive girl. She'd long known and accepted that any marriage she'd have would be one of political machination rather than of any childish notions of romantic love. What she'd long hoped for, what she saw as her duty, was that her father would choose the head of a powerful nation and important ally to align with and who'd rule to the benefit of both lands. Failing that, a intelligent Calandrian noble with a good head for statesmanship and warfare who'd make a fine king. As a last resort, she'd even have accepted a relatively harmless simpleton who she could rule through. 

But Francis was none of those things. He was the scion of a dying nation who made no secret of his desire for the Calandrian throne merely as a means to funnel wealth to the rule of his father and then eldest brother in order to revive their failing military campaigns. He had no real head for military tactics or statesmanship either. A rude, vain boy who cared for little but his own indulgences.

"And handsomeness would be of scant relief when subjected to his peculiarities in the bedchamber." this was the Princess' Lady-in-Waiting, Marietta speaking. She was a beautiful, slightly less proper sort with copper hair and a penchant for dressing to tempt the notions of decency. Today was no exception, her dress low cut enough to give any sailor passing by the bay with a powerful looking glass a glimpse of an impressive valley of cleavage. She was a few years older than the Princess and her oldest and dearest friend. 

"Oh, those are just rumours." Georgina said dismissively "Like you'd be privy to that."

"Me, no." Marietta shook her head "But I spoke with some of the girls in the delegation they sent last year and they said to me that..."

(RCH: Prince Francis' particular peculiarities have never been conclusively revealed. Very few women would ever admit to having been subjected to them and the ones that have have never spoken as to them in detail. None of the principals would even repeat to this Historian what Marietta claimed. The most persistent rumours on the subject have involved several of the larger farm animals and their ruder bodily functions. It is said by some that that the official story of Francis' death of drowning at sea years later was simply to cover up the truth of one of his predilections gone horribly wrong. This has not been independently confirmed.)

"Enough." Eloise interjected. She wanted to continue on the subject she'd brought up and was being made ill by the stories being told "Regardless of his supposed monstrosity the point is that he would deplete the treasury to further his family's idiotic ambitions. We would be a vassal state to a dying, wounded beast. I cannot allow that."

"Well, what can you do?" Georgina asked "Your father's made up his mind."

"I...." Eloise didn't know and stopped her pacing as she did her best to think of a strategy. "I can entreat upon him to change his mind perhaps."

"Seems unlikely." Marietta replied with genuine sympathy "I've heard he's already let the Emperor know and the wedding is to be in two short weeks."

"Well, I can...." 

Eloise looked about the room, desperate. All she saw were the eyes of her two loyal friends and her well appointed chamber. Nothing in her sight gave her any ideas as how to avoid her impending nuptials. 

"I don't care!" the Princess continued, her mind still empty of ideas for escape. "I will not allow my father to throw this country into ruin simply because he's a believer in old alliances. I'd rather let those four idiots in the town who call for an end to noble rule and a people's republic have their way."

(RCH: While the People's Movement was growing at this point in history, the extent of it was still relatively unknown by the Princess. She really did believe she was simply speaking of Efram Jacobs, William Thurgood, Anton Tebeds and Ignatius Poole, then the authors of the popular treatises on the benefits of a democratic government now referred to as The People's Manifestos. The Princess was a quarter correct in this assertion however as Jacobs was indeed an idiot who'd simply been credited as a contributing author because he worked in, and could provide access to, a printing shop.)

Georgina gasped audibly at this statement

"Milady, lower your voice." she whispered "Any folk, even nobles, who're found to be sympathizing with that lot are hanged by your father's decree."

"I don't care." the Princess replied "I'd rather roll the dice with what the mob thinks than let my fool of a father undo us with his lunacy."

"Milady, I beg you, lower your voice." Georgina looked genuinely fearful "Your father's guards are right outside."

"Half of the entire army could be here in the room and I'd say the exact same...."

"I think she's right, Princess." Marietta interjected, her expression seemingly undecided between concern and a wicked smile. "You never know who might hear you."

This did give Eloise pause. Marietta was not a sheltered, naive girl like Georgina. She knew the ways of the world. Eloise always gave Marietta's advice a great deal of weight and thought. She dropped the subject and sat down unceremoniously on her fainting couch, her frustration making the furniture's stated purpose the furthest thing from possibility. The three sat in relative silence for the rest of the afternoon as they continued with their needlework.

It was over the Princess' dinner with her father that night where she made her case for him to change his mind. She recounted all of her good practical reasons for why his choice had been a foolish one. To nearly every one of her arguments he'd simply responded with a patronizing "There, there" or "This is why men rule and not women" which had infuriated her to no end. He accused her of childishness and ignorance no matter how she went about detailing why such a marriage would spell ruin for the Kingdom. All he could respond with was simplicities about old friendships and parables about naive creatures who could not see the larger world around them. It was when Eloise, at her wits end, began to bring up the unusual sexual appetites her husband-to-be was said to have that her Father finally lost his patience.

"I am the King. My word is absolute law!" he shouted. Eloise simply looked at him angrily. He was an elderly man now. He'd had her at an advanced age and he was no longer the imposing presence of her youth. 

"Father, I..."

"No!" he shouted again "You will marry who I have decided. You will provide him a sympathetic ear as he rules this land. Whatever he may ask of you in the bedroom it will be your wifely duty to consent!"

With his final words he threw his utensils down and angrily pushed his chair back from the table. The attending staff looked terrified as they watched the outburst. King Pietrus had been heard to order staff executed for the simplest offences when in a rage. Eloise remained seated throughout the King's outburst. She finished her meal icily as her father stormed from the dining hall. The cold look in her eyes and the furious action of her knife a testament to how she remained true to her convictions.

There was to be no more discussion on the subject that evening and Princess Eloise retired to her bedchamber afterwards. She lay in her bed angrily for several hours, trying to rack her brain for some manner of appeal but finding none, before drifting off into a fitful, restless sleep. She dreamed of nothing as she slept several hours, the breeze from the ocean turning the warm summer day into a chilly night. It was the sound of her bed chamber door closing gently that woke her and so she sat up, clutching her thick quilt to her body. If it was some impertinent guard or, worse, some assailant, she knew the thin material of her bed clothes did little to hide her form. 

"Who's there?" She whispered into the dark of her room. 

"It's me, Eloise" the voice was unmistakably that of Marietta. The Princess breathed a sigh of relief before letting out an annoyed grumble.

"Oh for the last time...." She began as she let her quilt fall "I thought I made myself quite clear on this front Mari. Firstly, I do not think that I need any kissing 'practice' before my wedding day and secondly I do know that you merely use that as the flimsiest of pretexts to try to indulge in some of your own deviancy."

"What? No. Not that." Marietta responded quickly although as she took in the sight of the Princess, somehow lovelier than ever unmade up, relatively uncovered and with her hair loose about her shoulders, she seemed to reconsider "Well, I mean unless you have had a change of...."

"What is it then?" the Princess cut in "I have very little time left before I'm wed to that beast and would like to at least indulge in some sleep."

Marietta sat on the bed and looked into Eloise's eyes. There was none of Marietta's usual lightheartedness in her tone but a serious purpose the likes of which the Princess could not recall hearing in her friend before. 

"Have you been able to persuade your father as to your thoughts on the matter?" Marietta enquired

"No" Eloise said angrily, recounting the tale of her dinner.

"Any thoughts as to another recourse?"

"Well, I had been day dreaming about luring Francis into my bedchamber on my wedding night and seeing how the pig would enjoy a garrote wire pulled tight around his neck." the Princess offered, cheerlessly

(RCH: The Princess, according to some accounts, would have been dismayed to learn that if she'd gone through with this plan that Francis would have enjoyed it quite a bit.)

Marietta continued her line of questioning

"The thing you said earlier. About rather letting the country fall into the hands of the People's Movement, rather than go through with this wedding?" 

"What of it?" The Princess asked

"Did you mean it?" 

Eloise looked harshly at her friend. She could not know why she was asking. If it was as an agent of her father's Eloise would not put it past him to order her own neck in a noose the evening of her wedding. Still, she trusted Marietta. Implicitly and with all things. 

"I did." the Princess nodded earnestly

"What if I told you I knew of a way to perhaps set that in motion?" Marietta asked of her friend, a healthy does of mischief in her eyes. "Would you agree to that?"

Eloise looked at her Marietta skeptically. She didn't know what Mari could possibly have meant. She didn't even know the size and scale of the movement she was discussing. All Eloise knew were two things. First, that if she agreed she would be betraying her family, her nation and everything she'd been raised to believe since childhood. Secondly, that she had to agree for the good of all of the things she'd be betraying. Eloise nodded her head. Marietta's grin grew wider.

"Beautiful. Tomorrow then." Marietta leaned in and gave Eloise a tender kiss on the cheek.

~Chapter Two, wherein a plan is hatched~

Eloise's sleep before Marietta's intrusion to her room had been fitful and uneasy and afterwards it was completely of reach. The Princess kept playing their interaction in her head over and over again. She debated her decision over and over again, changing her mind and re-changing it through the night. She still had not been able to fall asleep when the sunlight flooded her room and permanently ended her attempts to do so. Eloise had only just finished dressing when Marietta knocked at her door. 




Eloise's Journey



"Come." 

Marietta entered with a small tray that held Eloise's breakfast and she put it down on the small oaken table where Eloise usually ate her morning meal. 

"I didn't dream last night, did I Mari?" Eloise asked sleepily as she made her way to her food. 

"I'm afraid not, love." 

The Princess smiled weakly. In a way, she almost hoped she had dreamed it. It'd mean the decision would be out of her hands.

"So we're still to enact our plan, whatever it may be, today?"

"We are." Marietta said with a simple nod. "Provided you still want to, of course."

Eloise tried to give the matter one final thought but she knew there was little to debate. She'd made up her mind and knew her course of action.

"What must I do?" the Princess finally asked, confirming her intentions.

Marietta gave pause. It almost seemed as though she too had been wishing that Eloise had reconsidered. Still, the look of regret on her face was only a momentary one and, after brushing a few strands of hair from her face, Marietta turned to the Princess with the same look of purpose and determination that Eloise had seen the night before.

"Nothing, for now." Marietta's eyes were red and weary. It looked as though she too had not slept since their late night meeting. "The less you know of the details, the better."

"So simply stay put?"

"Again, for now." Marietta nodded "Simply go about your normal day. If you notice anything unusual, don't mention it or draw attention to it. Don't take visitors. Say you're feeling ill and avoid dinner. You must be back in your chambers by sunset and have a small bag prepared."

"For coin?"

"No coin, just whatever jewels you may have that are small and especially valuable."

Eloise nodded. Easy enough instructions to be sure. She did as instructed, bathing and then dressing as she would any other day. She ate her breakfast, spent time sewing and at her singing lesson, lunched and then was back in her chambers in the afternoon. All day, curious sort that she was, Eloise couldn't help but try to look for anything out of the usual that day. If only to explain some small part of Marietta's cryptic instructions to her. But there was no such sign that the Princess could detect.

(RCH: Eamon Phrubish, then People's Movement Spymaster and now Minister of Intelligence, said when interviewed that there were no less than 38 things the Princess could have noticed that were unusual on that day indicating his intricate plot if she'd had a keener eye. This has not been corroborated and Millicent Arris, his then and now deputy, dismissed that claim, surmising "He was probably just trying to impress you dear.")

And so, as instructed, Eloise had retired in the afternoon, claiming illness and told her guards that she would not be attending dinner if called upon. She strutted impatiently around her room, her heart pounding and her head racing. The idea that Marietta may be an agent in her father's employ not completely gone from her mind, nor her worries that even if she weren't Marietta's scheme might be discovered, jeopardizing her safety dreadfully. She put her worries aside to gather what jewels she could. The Princess had an impressive collection, accrued over the years and put her most valuable pieces into the bag. Various rings, a loose jewels she'd been given and the Royal Calandrian Emerald were among some of the exceedingly rare and valuable pieces she assembled. 

Her worries did vanish eventually. When the night seemed it's darkest and Princess Eloise had been pacing for what seemed like hours, there was a knock on her door. Eloise approached it cautiously and was relieved to hear the voice of her dearest friend on the other side.

"Open up, Ellie, it's Mari." Came her hushed, smoky whisper. Eloise opened the door. Marietta nearly yanked the Princesses hand from her wrist as she pulled her into the corridor.

"There's no time to waste, Ellie, we must be off right away." Mari said as they hurried down a hallway. Eloise had no time to speak or question it, she just went with Marietta through the twists and turns of a servants entrance that Eloise had never been down before, one hand clasped by her friend, the other clutching her bag of valuables. The castle was large, with a great many entrances and exits, and Marietta seemed intent on finding a specific one. They carried through at great haste before arriving at a hallway that branched off both to their left and to their right. This caused Marietta to pause and try to think. 

"It was left, right, straight, left, left....Oh blast you Eamon, you self-important git." Marietta cursed "I could have written this down."

"Mari, what's going on?" Eloise asked. That drew a sympathetic look from her friend who nonetheless shook her head and again grabbed her friend's hand.

"Once we're outside, Elle, I promise." She said before taking off down the hallway to the left. Eloise could feel the air getting cooler as they reached a final door. Unlike any door to the outside Eloise had ever seen in her castle, there were no guards standing outside of it, nor a heavy bolt lock sealing it shut. Marietta sighed her relief as she saw it and yanked the heavy door open. The cool air rushed over the girls as they emerged onto some sort of loading dock. Clearly, judging by the various carts and boxes, a place where merchants came to make deliveries to the King. There was a small stone staircase that led them down even further and Marietta went down it, her eyes searching about as if looking for something in particular.

"Blast, that lying oaf. He's not here." She exclaimed, frustrated. Eloise stopped, took a second to catch her breath, before finally saying something about their mad dash.

"Who isn't here, Mari? What's going on?" Eloise demanded. Marietta looked at the Princess momentarily, seeming to weigh what to say before replying.

"Alright. Well, here's the thing. A few months ago I took to town for a while. There, I met up with this lovely man. Will Thurgood." She explained, still looking around. Eloise did not recognize the name. Marietta recognized the confusion on her friend's face and explained. "The one actually writing most of those pamphlets. Advocating an end to your father's rule and power to the people."

Eloise nodded.

"Him. Yes. I hate him." 

"Why? Oh Eloise don't you see he's right? It's wrong for anyone to rule simply by virtue of their birthright instead of their capacity to do so. You can see this yourself with your father's mad decisions." She said, making an eloquent case. 

"That's all very well and good but in one of those pamphlets he refers to me a useless, painted up tart who clothes herself in garish silks that may as well be made of the common people's blood and tears." Eloise countered angrily. She was still fuming about that one. 

(RCH: When interviewed for this history, Prime Minister Thurgood made specific request to apologize for this remark noting that attacking the Princess, still a popular figure even among those sympathetic to the Democratization of the Kingdom, was one of his greatest missteps in attempting to ferment popular support. Additionally he added "Although in my defence, nobody writes well in their 20's")

"Yes, well, he's a very passionate man. And we've become...friends since and he's softened in his stance on you thanks to me. So when I told him of your willingness to help the cause he set your escape in motion."

"My escape? Where am I going?" Eloise asked.

"Nilfenhem" Marietta said, apologetically. Eloise was practically speechless.

"Nilfenhem?! Among those barbarians and animals?" She protested. Eloise had been with her father many years ago when they'd received the young War Chief's delegation. She'd been disgusted with them, draped in coarse animal furs and carrying weapons with them. The War chief in particular. A bearded, monster of a man who spoke coarsely and showed neither her father nor her nation the proper respect. 

"Best we could do, unfortunately." Marietta said apologetically "Nilfenhem is the nearest nation we can get to by land."

"Why not the docks? Spirit me by boat to one of the island kingdoms."

"By sea is where your Father would think to look first, silly. And with his Navy any nation sheltering you would be demolished." Marietta said, a statement that Eloise nodded along glumly with. "But we have contacts in Nilfenhem. And we've arranged passage via carriage for you and ensured asylum."

"But...but...." Eloise continued to try and poke holes in the plan "We'll have to go through nearly all of Ascibia! Won't they be looking for me too?"

"Yes but with their wars to the South and the West their military roads heading North are near deserted and have been opened up for trade. We've arranged someone to transport you and guide you under the guise of a Merchant and his Daughter."

"But..."

"No buts, Elle. This is the only way. While you're gone the Movement will try to assemble a meeting with the Nobles. With no heir to the throne and not wanting the Ascibians to claim the country, William believes the Nobles will agree to some form of popular rule."

Eloise nodded. That did make a certain degree of sense. The idea of living in Nilfenhem worried her terribly though. She'd heard stories about how they ate raw meat and clubbed their women before raping them as a means of procreation. She relented however. It was for the good of the Kingdom even if it was terrible for her. The princess nodded and sat on the steps, waiting for this accompaniment that Marietta had spoken of. She looked back at the castle glumly. She knew she might never see it again. Never see her Father again. The thought saddened her greatly. Her sadness was interrupted, however, by the sound of two approaching figures. Marietta looked around the corner and cursed.

"Blast. Two guards. Eamon said the bloody guards would...Blast him!" Marietta cursed in a whisper. She looked around the corner. The guards were clearly making their rounds and would be at their location shortly. Marietta thought to her self a moment, grimaced and then took Eloise's hand one last time, softly. The copper haired beauty smiling sweetly at her friend. 

"You see that clearing, Elle?" Marietta pointed to a break in the wall that must have been where the Merchants came in on their carriages. Eloise nodded. "I'm going to deal with these two. As soon as I've got them going back the way they came, run there silently and swiftly. Our man will be by shortly. He'll call himself Olaf and refer to you as Sonia. Got it?"

"Got it." 

"And should anyone ever ask, I do this for you and the good of our Kingdom." Mari said sadly as she embraced her friend. She took one last look into the Princesses eyes before breaking the hug. She took a step towards the passage the Guards were walking down before returning to the Princess.

"Oh to hell with it, I may not get the chance again." Marietta said as she strongly took the Princess in her arms and kissed her. Not the kind of friendly kiss that the two friends had shared dozens of but a kiss of love and lust combined. The Princess moaned into the kiss, strong and soft as it was, feeling Marietta's hands pull her body towards, her own soft form. It was Eloise's first proper kiss and she enjoyed every fleeting second. The Princess had only just began to return the kiss when Marietta broke it and continued around the corner. Eloise watched as she did. Seeing her friend in a new light. So beautiful and vivacious and sweet. Eloise wished, for a moment, that she had taken Marietta up on some of her earlier offers to kiss. As it was, she simply hid on the steps, watching Marietta as she cautiously approached the guards.

"Who goes there!" Boomed one as soon as he saw her, pointing his long spear in her direction. Marietta simply threw up her hands

"A maid, nothing more." Marietta said innocently. The two guards kept their spears up and kept their distance from her.

"Yeah, she's the Princess' friend." The other, shorter, one said, taking stock of her before lowering his spear. "Seen her around the Castle plenty."

"Shouldn't be out at this hour Miss. Lesser guards might have run you through." The other guard said, also lowering his defences 

"But you're not just any soldiers, are you?" Marietta said, her voice dropping a bit and approaching them. "You're palace guards. The best of our nation."

"Well, the Navy boys might say something about that." the shorter one said modestly "But we do know a thing or two about a thing or two."

"Don't be modest. You boys are trained in riding, long arms, hand to hand fighting and are the finest swordsmen we have." Marietta continued "In fact, I bet you two are so proud of your talents you'd be willing to engage in a little bit of sword combat for me, just to demonstrate your talents."

"Can't do that on duty, Ma'am." The Taller one said "But at the garrison every week we have a little tourney and...."

Marietta shook her head

"You misunderstand me. I was thinking just back here, round the servants quarters, you two boys could have just an excellent sword fight in my mouth."

The shorter guard looked at the taller one, who looked back. They fully understood her meaning. Marietta walked back along the passage the way they'd came, swaying her hips. The Guards turned and followed her eagerly. Eloise, whose jaw had dropped as much as either guard's by Marietta's claim was roused into remembering her instructions and darted for the gate in the wall as the Guards went forth to claim their prize. Eloise thought about the possibility of it being the last time she saw Marietta and that made her almost unbearably sad as she passed out of the Castle, onto the little dirt road.

(RCH: Although, later, Eloise was to say that it also would have been strangely fitting. When interviewed for this history Lady Marietta Thurgood, formerly Marietta Tillson, did not confirm or deny the account of that night, simply saying "Well, if that's what you've heard". In this Historian's opinion these facts are largely to be believed, both due to second hand confirmation from many of the palace guards, although none would admit to being one of the two specifically, as well as the nature of the Prime Minister's wife herself. Lady Thurgood, now in her 45th year, remains a captivating and, shall we say, aggressive woman. In an entirely unrelated note, this particular Junior Historian's next work, tentatively scheduled for sometime next year, will be a biography of Lady Thurgood, written with the Lady's assistance at her winter estates. Look for it!)

~Chapter Three, in which things turn dark~

Eloise had sat in a ditch just outside the gates for ten silent minutes, fearing discovery with every second, before she finally heard the creaking of wheels draw along the dusty road. She took a nervous glance down the pitch dark of the road and saw, indeed, a small carriage being drawn by a single horse. She remained hidden, unsure of this being the right carriage until it was nearly on top of her, when she waved to the driver. An immense, black bearded man wearing the simple cloak of a merchant. He saw her and gave a small nod. 

"Which one are you then?" his voice was unmistakably that of a Nilfenman. Coarse and unrefined. "The slut or the Princess?"

"The Princess." Eloise said quickly, lifting her dress to avoid the mud as she got out of the ditch before pausing to rebuke him "And don't call her a slut."

"Whatever," he shrugged. 

"Let's just be on our way." she said, stomping up to the carriage. The man, still cloaked, shook his head.

"Got to get you lookin' the part, first." He said, tossing a sack at her. Eloise caught it and looked inside. There was a peasant dress, worn and weary, as well as what looked to be a drinking gourd of some sort. She sighed. She'd never worn such a thing before in her life. But she knew her decision meant she'd have to leave some of her luxuries behind. She took up the gourd though, it was far heavier than it should be if it contained water and there was a thick black liquid around the rim. She touched it and put it to her nose, it had no smell.

"That's for your hair, not to drink. Get it in while you're still wearing your silky nonsense so it doesn't stain the dress."

Eloise sighed once again. Her blonde locks had been a great source of pride to her. One of the reasons she was so frequently hailed as perhaps the fairest princess her nation had ever seen. Poets and Minstrels had composed poems and songs to their golden colour and their silken hue. 

(RCH: Although another of the Movement's early pamphlets had also described them as "...The bewitching flaxen tentacles of the very symbol of our despot's oppression, parasitically feeding off the toil of our labourers." When reached for comment Prime Minister Thurgood disavowed the comment "I think Anton wrote that one, actually". When reached for comment about the Prime Minister's assertions Anton Tebeds, Chancellor of the Exchequer, denied this, claiming "It was William handled the words, I just projected out the economic models of a less protectionist trade policy. If you ask me, I think Will doesn't want to put his name to too many insults of the Queen because he knows Lady Thurgood will make him sleep in the guest chambers when your book comes out. We are off the record, right? Why are you still writing?")

But they would have to be gone as well. In a way it was fitting. Perhaps the most well-known symbol of her royalty cruelly denied her as she left it all behind. She poured some of the goop onto her hands and ran it through her hair. Surprisingly, the job went quickly, the liquid seeming particularly suited for this specific task and, in very little time, leaving her looking as though her hair had always been the colour of the night sky, An almost blue-ish black. Eloise ducked to the ground to wipe her hands of the dye before standing up.

"I'm going to the woods to change." Eloise said, causing her guide to shake his head.

"Nope. Not to let my eyes off you." he said firmly. She grumbled. 

"Then at least turn around." she commanded, trying to sum up her most authoritative tone. He shrugged, as if the idea of staring at her naked body was not something that interested him in the slightest and did as requested. Eloise removed her elaborate silks, her delicate underthings, feeling the cool night air on her naked body for the very first time. Her nipples stiffening as she felt chills run through her. She put on the simple slip and dress quickly, not wanting to be naked in this barbarian's presence for longer than absolutely necessary. She dressed, the thin, rough cloth still clinging tightly to her womanly body, and made her way to the back of the carriage, stepping into it. It was empty, dirty and sparse. There was little more than two long boards along side either side of the wooden vehicle that she correctly interpreted were to be their beds for the coming journey. This was to be her home for the weeks or months that her journey would take. The thought made her want to cry. She sat down on one of the boards and looked desperately at the floor. 

"You ready, your highness?" Olaf yelled as she could feel the carriage turn around.

"Yes." Eloise responded weakly while she began to regret, for the first time, her choices that led to her state.

~Chapter Four, in which a most foul offer is made~

Eloise awoke in only a few hours of sleep, the carriage still being pulled along at a steady and unspectacular pace. Whatever the plan was, it was not to make their way through the country side with great speed. Her sides ached from sleeping on the stiff board and her head pounded. She made her way to the front, though, and parted the curtain to where Olaf was driving them from, stepping out onto the little seat beside him.




Eloise's Journey



"Morning." He said, his cloak now off and his harsh, broad face visible. Eloise squinted for a second as she looked at him, her eyes still weary. But she recognized him. She knew him right away. The same unruly mass of black hair, same bushy beard. Same enormous frame.

"You....you're the Nilfenhem War Chief. Not some guide." She said, horrified to see the man who'd terrorized her so as a girl. He was as massive as she remembered, the ensuing years doing little to age him. If she had to guess she'd have said he was twice her 18 years but, she admitted, he'd looked the same age nearly 10 years ago.

"I am the War Chief. Yes." He nodded "Which makes me the best guide ever. And the best fighter ever and the best hunter ever and the best fisher ever and the best lover ever and so on and on. Your friends wanted to ensure your safety. So they agreed to a steep price to ensure the best protection for this scheme of theirs."

Eloise just glumly shook her head. She'd gone from being a fawned over princess to being a dirty merchant's assistant, assisting the man she used to have nightmares about, in less than a day. She stared ahead at the road they were travelling, clearly making their way west from the city.

"Your friends seem to know their business. There's been no attempt to block the roads this way. Apparently it didn't cross their minds." Olaf said, seemingly at once impressed with the intelligence of the Movement and contemptuous of the Army's response.

"News has gotten out then?" Eloise asked

"Indeed, messengers this way and back all night. Unless something else exciting happened last night it's a safe bet all of your vaunted Navy is setting up some blockade or another." Olaf gave the horse a little encouragement. Eloise simply sat and did her best to savour the sights of her homeland, knowing it may be her last chance to look on every leaf and tree that had once seemed to mean so much to her. 

"We should use this as an opportunity." Olaf said, matter-of-factly "We will at some point be stopped and searched and you'll need to know our story."

"I'm Sonia and you're my father, Olaf." Eloise repeated.

"Tremendous." Olaf said, more contempt in his voice "And what village are we from? What do I sell? Why is my daughter with me instead of a proper assistant? Why are we returning with an empty carriage?"

"I don't...."

"Congratulations. You've gotten yourself captured and me killed. Or you killed and me having to bust open two guards' heads and forfeiting the second half of my payment." He spat "So, as I said, let's use the time to get this straight."

Olaf then spent the next 20 minutes imparting their slightly complicated back story. Each time she made even the slightest of mistakes making her start from scratch and repeat the process. Eventually she had learned the story to the point where she could recite it word for word, even answering slightly varied questions about it as he fired them at her.

"Not bad." He said finally, admitting she'd made the progress needed. Eloise beamed. She'd always been a smart girl. 

Olaf's insistence on practice had been prescient for, no less than an hour or so later they did finally come upon a guard station. Two guards manned either side of the road, their Halberd's crossed so as to prevent any passage. Olaf brought the carriage to a halt and sat still as the guards approached them.

"State your business." Asked the one on his side, his Calandrian accent being a pleasant change to Eloise's ears even though she feared capture.

"I'm Olaf. Merchant." He said to the one who approached on his side. Eloise did as she'd practised, looking straight on ahead, even as the guard's weapon passed near her feet. 

"Why are you here, Nilfenman?" He asked again

"Returning home. Made my sale."

The guard on Eloise's side looked hard at her

"You, girl, what did you sell?" He asked sharply, doing his best to examine every inch of her face.

"Whiskey. 18 barrels." She said plainly. Ordinarily she'd have thought to said sir but Olaf had strictly informed her that Nilfenwomen only recognized two titles, Father and Chief. If the man was neither, you'd address him plainly.

"How come your cart's not full then? Isn't that what merchants typically do from stop to stop?" This was directed to Olaf

"We just deal in Whiskey. Make it and sell it. Your Calandrian spirits are like water to my people. Won't sell." he shrugged. The one questioning Eloise kept at it. 

"Where are you from? What's your name?"

"Sonia." She said, still doing her best to mute her upper class, educated tones. "The village of Bruggeshill."

This seemed to more or less satisfy the two of them. They clearly had bought Eloise's act and lowered their spears slightly.

"Seen anything suspicious on your way here?" one asked "We're looking for an escaped....prisoner."

"What does he look like?" Olaf asked

"She, actually. Blonde hair. Very comely. Posh and such." he said "Supposedly a chambermaid of someone. Stole something."

Eloise did her best not to smile at her description and then the fact that, though the Army was on alert, there was already a cover story floating around. Either these men didn't know they were looking for the Princess or they'd been told not to instruct the public. Either way, Eloise knew it meant that her disappearing was of great embarrassment and would cause great uproar when actually discovered. Marietta and the Movement's plan may just work.

"Nope," Olaf shook his head "No Calandrian women. Just my daughter here."

"Hold on a sec." The one looking at her said "Why'd you bring your daughter with you? I thought you Northerners didn't let your women out of the village."

Eloise didn't let it show but her expression froze. This had been the one part of her story they hadn't discussed. She had no idea what to answer. Thankfully, the question hadn't been posed to her.

"That's how I make money on my ride back." Olaf said "Either of you two lads wants to get your dick wet in her it's 10 of your gold coins or something of like value, your choice as to how she takes it."

Eloise remained still but inside she was livid. She knew he'd kept that from her on purpose. Acting as though she was a whore? Her old prejudices came back to her. The man was a beast. A vicious, cruel beast. And worse, he'd blown their cover. The guards would never believe that....

"Gods, you Nilfen are animals!" exclaimed the one who'd been questioning Olaf. The other one actually looked as though he was considering the offer.

"Suit yourself," Olaf shrugged "But her mouth is second to none I've ever had."

Eloise held still. She knew her life depended on it. But inside, she was as revolted as the first guard had looked and the second guard now looked. 

"Get the hell out of Calandria, filth." The man said, waving them past. While both of them looked at Eloise with a mix of disgust and pity, believing her to be a girl being sold and enjoyed by her father. She'd never felt more rage and humiliation as they went past. Yet, she held her tongue, mot speaking until she was well sure they were past the ear shot of the guards. When they were she turned to him and spit at him, the glob of her saliva splashing against his robe.

"You contemptible, filthy cur. I am the heir to the throne of Calandria and I assure you that no matter what the risk to my personal self if you ever speak of me in such a manner again, regardless of the guise I'm under, I will make sure you are strung up and your belly opened for my personal amusement."

Olaf just wiped the spit from his robe. 

"It worked didn't it? They couldn't wait to see the backs of us." He said "And you're going to have to get used to your inheritance being mainly null and void at this point. You're just a woman now. Act accordingly."

"No matter the station of my birth I would never allow anyone to speak to me as such or use me in such a disgusting fashion. I have never done anything like what you described. What you Northerners do with your women sickens me."

Olaf simply shrugged. 

"And it's useless as a plan besides. We were saved by the good grace of Calandrian decency. If those two weren't such good examples of my nation's men our plans would all be for nought."

Olaf nudged the horse on a little faster, tiring of the sound of her voice.

"No, Princess, if those two weren't such good examples of your nation's men we'd have been delayed 10 minutes and have 20 extra gold pieces."

(RCH: Those two upstanding, if perhaps a bit gullible, Calandrian soldiers were Privates Edmund Cork and Barton Tilbis of the King's 3rd Guard Division and had in fact been briefed to watch for the Princess. When reached for comment Cork, now a Master Sgt. with the same Division, said "I kind of had a feeling something was up. She was a little too fresh-faced to be some Northerner's roadside meal ticket and when he brought up the thing about her mouth she definitely gave something away in her eyes. She could have snapped his head off she looked so angry. But the truth was I was as opposed to a union between the Princess and that Ascibian monster as anyone and was already something of a supporter of the Movement. So I certainly didn't want to call her out on it and send her back". Tilbis, retired from the Army and now a private merchant himself, said "That was the bloody Princess? Fuck me. Now I wish I'd had the ten gold pieces on me.")

~Chapter Five, in which hands are dirtied~

They'd travelled the same road for days now and the Great Western Mountains were in view. Both Olaf and Eloise knew that meant the border soon. Because of the harsh mountain passage to cross the border, Olaf had decided that they'd stop for the night and make camp rather than simply continue on through the night as had been their custom. He'd been driving for days and Eloise proved unable to take the reins from him. They'd found a small clearing and Olaf had started a fire before heading into the nearby woods to find something to eat. That was good news. Eloise was starving. She hadn't eaten a proper meal since leaving the palace and Olaf's supplies were just dried, cured meats that Eloise found awful. She'd eaten only tiny bits and pieces to get her strength up. Fresh something, anything, sounded delicious to her now. She sat near the fire and tried to warm her hands a little, the air was cool this near the Mountains. She'd been enjoying the fire so much that she'd barely even noticed Olaf's return with his arms full. He dropped the pile in front of her roughly, causing her to yelp. In front of her were two dead animals and a pile of various other things. She recoiled at the dead animals briefly before looking up at him, impressed at what he'd caught with seemingly no tools or weapons.

"How did you manage all this?" She asked, already trying to see what they all were.

"I'm the War Chief. Best hunter ever, best scrounger ever." He said, sitting down on a nearby log. "I don't know much about your wilds so some may not be edible, some may. Do you know?"

"Of course I do." Eloise said, asserting herself. "All I've done since I was a child is study my Kingdom. I can identify every blade of grass in our fields, every fish that they sell at the markets."

"Good for you." Olaf said, warming his own hands, clearly unimpressed.

"Like this," Eloise continued seeking to prove her point by holding up one of the root vegetables he'd brought "Is a Red Mountain Parsnip. Usually farmed, can grow wild. And these are Mountain Field or Princess Clara Mushrooms, named for their flecked spots. My great-great-great Aunt Clara was quite freckled about the time they became popular in our food and those are two Fastback Hares. Not eaten often, as they tend to be lean and quick, rather than your farmed rabbits but they can do in a pinch."

(RCH: While well taught, Princess Eloise had been taught something of a sanitized, royal family friendly version of our nation's history. Most in this office now accept the theory that Mountain Field Mushrooms had been renamed Princess Clara Mushrooms by the locals because of certain comments she'd made about the farmers in the Mountain region and their complaints about the heavy tax rates the local Nobles had imposed. Clara's remarks supporting the Nobility could only, in the eyes of certain locals, have sprung from the same wild fecal matter that the Mushrooms tended to grow in.)

"A fascinating history you people have." Olaf said sarcastically as he retrieved a knife from his boot, tossing it towards her "Now make them into a stew."

"What?" Eloise said, staring at the long, sharp blade as though she didn't know it's purpose.

"Cook them. Into food. For us to eat." he repeated slowly as if speaking to a child. 

Eloise was taken back. She'd never cooked before in her life. Now she was expected to skin and prepare two animal carcasses? And cook them over an open flame? She looked at him like he'd asked her to jump in the air and stay afloat.

"There's a pot in the back of the carriage. Set it up and get cooking."

"I don't know how!" She said, as if that should have been obvious to anyone with half a brain, which was about what she pegged Olaf as having.

Olaf sighed in frustration and picked his knife up from the pile along with the two Hares. He took them to where he'd been sitting and began skinning them, even the sight of which Eloise found distasteful.

"Out of curiosity, do they teach the women anything down here? You can't cook, can't drive a carriage, you looked at that knife like you'd never seen a weapon before in your life and, as you said earlier, you've never been with a man."

Eloise was feeling very small and weak until he'd said the last part.

"Of course I haven't. I'm a Princess. I was to be married to the next King. Who would want a Queen of spoiled virtue?" Eloise asked, glad to be turning the tables slightly. In her eyes, only the least civil of people could not instantly recognize this.

"Who would want any woman who didn't know her way around the bedroom?" Olaf asked, just as amazed as she'd been. "Explains your Men a bit, I suppose."

Eloise fumed some more. Olaf just continued speaking of his people as he prepared the animals.

"We men are meant to be out hunting and fighting and sailing and plundering. So our women must not be helpless waifs. They need to be able to cook and mend a broken roof and work a plow and forge our blades and rear our children. They have to know how to please us when we come home with spoils and defend the town when we're gone."

"Your wife must be a very fine creature indeed." Eloise said with a shake of her head, trying to picture the woman unlucky enough to be Olaf's fur covered bride.

"Hah!" Olaf laughed as he finished with one animal and moved to the next "A War Chief doesn't have a wife."

"So...."

Olaf continued to explain.

"Each Village has a first woman. The strongest and smartest and most able. When I'm in that Village, I'm in her house and her bed." Olaf said fondly "Although technically it's my house and my bed. Technically all of the houses are mine, I suppose." 

Olaf paused, as if he'd never really considered this before. Eloise tried to stomach her distaste for the arrangement and probed. She'd always figured diplomacy would be part of her life and learning about other nation's and their customs was part of it, she supposed.

"So how many First Women are there?" She asked

"How many Villages? 70 or 80. Something like that." Olaf said, unsure himself

"So how many children do you have?" 

Olaf grimaced as though he'd never really considered this question either.

"Twice that many?" He guessed "I don't really keep track."

This too seemed monstrous to Eloise. To have hundreds of children and not even know them? But she pressed ahead.

"And how do you choose who your first woman is?"

"I don't. They do. Whoever is first woman can be challenged by any woman provided neither of them are with child. If she can best her physically then someone comes to get the War Chief and I come to the Village and, after spending the night with the challenger and provided I'm satisfied with her in other areas, she is the new one. She moves into my house, she raises my children."

"What happens to the old first woman?" Eloise asked, now concerned for hundreds of women she'd never met.

"Does whatever her challenger did. Challenger farmed, she farms. Challenger made steel, she makes steel."

"That sounds horrible. Your women sound beastly"

"Now you know why the Ascibians were unlucky when came across one of our war parties, unluckier still if they came across a village." Olaf smirked

The whole thing sounded barbaric to Eloise. Worse yet, it was where she was going to be living for the foreseeable future. Olaf was right. She didn't know how to do any of those things. She'd be....well, she didn't know what she'd be. Useless. She looked at Olaf and ducked her head up, feeling very tired and very alone but determined. Confident. 

"Stop." She said, causing Olaf to pause from his skinning and look back at her.

"Why?"

"You're going to have to teach me, right? To skin and fix roofs and make plows and everything if I'm going to be of any use to my new village" 

Just saying that made Eloise feel awful but if she was going to be joining their culture she was as determined to be as positive a member of her new society as she'd been to be a good Queen and Wife. Olaf considered this a second before nodding.

"So what first? Fighting? Roofing?" Olaf asked

Eloise shook her head. She'd start small.

"Might as well teach me to skin and cook a small rabbit." She sighed, rolling up her sleeves.

"You're in luck. I'm the best Skinner ever. Best Cook ever too."

That night went reasonably well for her first night under Olaf's tutelage. He did a good job of teaching her the finer points of using the knife to skin, gut and bone the rabbit and then setting up the pot. There wasn't much to the cooking. There wasn't any fine spices or complicated methods to use. But Eloise was a fast learner and a hard worker and by the end of the night she'd cooked the rabbit and the other ingredients into a simple but palatable meal for the two of them. Olaf had simply shrugged. He was only impressed that a woman from the South was so eager and willing to attempt to learn his ways. The results were adequate at best. Eloise, though, had gone to sleep with her arms aching and her face dirty and smeared with animal blood but she felt accomplished. Like she'd really done something. 

She was intent to drift off to a peaceful slap but the sound of slapping of flesh had started beside her. She'd rolled over and looked at Olaf and saw his massive fist wrapped around an even more massive penis, stroking it quickly. Eloise had never seen one before, only had them described to her by Marietta. But Olaf's looked, despite his massive frame, over sized even for him. Thick as one of her arms and bloated at the top. It looked like it belonged on a horse instead of a man. 

"What are you doing?" Eloise asked, bolting upright and moving away from him

"Why? You want to learn this part too?" He asked, vaguely hopeful 

"No. And never. I want to contribute when I get to the North, not be one of your women." Eloise said, noting with some dismay that he was not stopping his stroking. 

"You won't do it, so I have to." Olaf shrugged. "Been a long time since I saw one of my villages, been with one of my women." 

Eloise rolled over so that at the very least her back was to him. 

"God, that thing is grotesque." she exclaimed, trying to ignore the sound of his hand.

"War Chief." he said calmly "Biggest cock ever."

(RCH: Olaf's claims about his particular greatness remain something of a mystery. Whether he really was widely acknowledged to be historically accomplished, and sized, as he claimed it has never been verified due to the oral, rather than written tradition of Nilfenhem and our general lack of familiarity with their culture. During the course of my research for this book I travelled by ship to the nearest Nilfenhem village and spoke with their village elder. I enquired as to where the Nilfenhem's historical records on such matters were and was informed by the Elder that he had the historical records right there and I was welcome to study it for as long as I wanted. He said this, however, while grabbing a hold of something that, while impressive, was decidedly not what I had come to see and so the mystery continues.)




Eloise's Journey



~Chapter Six, in which things are lost and found~ 

The next few days of the trip were all about negotiating the mountain pass. Despite this, Eloise's education had continued. She'd driven the carriage, made a fire and sewn the small, prepared rabbit hides into her dress so as to keep her warmer for the journey. When she'd gotten comfortable driving, their trip had progressed faster, as Olaf now could sleep some nights as Eloise drove. While making for faster travel, this did mean that Eloise did occasionally have to listen to his masturbation while on the road, something that she only would dwell upon during the brief moments that controlling the carriage through the mountains was not difficult enough to command her full attention.

They were stopped several times by guards. Twice along the way and again at the very end of the passage when Calandria's Mountain wall gave way to the Ascibian Empire's endless lowlands and farms. The Ascibian's were no more cautious or clever than any of the other guards, however, and their especial distaste for Olaf's people seemed to work in the carriage's favour. Their guards were clearly resentful that the Nilfen had beaten their army and yet won the right to still trade by land with the Calandrians and so they were more inclined to be waved ahead. Eloise, now looking wearier and stronger and dirtier, was receiving even fewer looks of enquiry. Nobody, it seemed to her, could even entertain the notion that the filthy, road weary girl could possibly have been a beautiful Princess. 

Inside the empire, their journey began it's longest stretch. While leaving Calandria had taken just over a week, the Empire was vast and the trip through it would take many, many weeks. While this meant a long and weary stretch, it also meant there was more opportunities for Eloise to learn more of what her future life would be like. Olaf seemed an eager teacher and, despite it adding time to their trip, they stopped every day. Every day seemingly had a new lesson or a refinement on the one before. He'd even spent money at the one small town they'd passed through on spices and supplies to advance her study. At one stop near a river she'd made the fire, caught fish, boned and filleted two for their dinner and then cooked it, spicing it as per Olaf's instructions before salt preserving the rest. The next stop had required repairs to the carriage which Eloise performed under Olaf's watchful eye. All of her considerable intelligence and drive were applied to every task and she seemingly had no need to ever be told anything twice. Once he taught her, it was instructed to memory and could be repeated by her on command. Some lessons, however, were harder than others.

"Ooof" Eloise exclaimed as she fell to the ground in pain. Olaf's hand had cracked into her face as she charged him in an attack. He'd sidestepped her easily and sent her sprawling.

"You are slow and clumsy and you look as though you have absolutely no intentions whatsoever of actually hitting me." He said. His tone wasn't cruel, just blunt. Eloise wiped the dirt off of her face and was on her feet, ready to try again. They'd found a particularly good spot for their camp this day, a large clearing next to a small lake, and had decided to take some time to really pursue Eloise's combat education. 

"It's not really fair, is it? You're the war chief. Best fighter ever, right?" Eloise said, circling him slowly "So I don't really need to learn how to fight you."

"If the way I fought you was the way I actually fought, I wouldn't have made it past the first challenger to my title." He said dismissively. 

Eloise attacked, thinking she'd found a weak spot. She feigned a punch to the throat before spinning around, hoping to catch him with an elbow to the stomach. Olaf had not been even momentarily convinced by her first movement and blocked the elbow easily. Now, with her back to him and vulnerable, he raised a boot to her backside and pushed, knocking her to the ground again. Eloise cried out as she felt her knee scrape against a rock, tearing some of the skin. She held herself on the ground for a second before getting up, beginning the attempt again. Olaf shook his head.

"You're hurt." He said, pointing to her bloody knee.

"I'll survive, keep going." She encouraged harshly

"We've been at this for hours." He said, rolling his eyes to the sky. "I'm hungry."

"I'll cook your damn food in a while. Keep your guard up." She said angrily, again looking at his movements, trying to see a weakness. She charged forward. Olaf sidestepped a kick, then a punch, then stepped back from a knee. Even as he moved away from her attacks easily, he admired her form. He'd shown her only a time or two how to correctly throw these attacks and now she threw them near flawlessly on every pass. She combined them well too, with creativity and unpredictability. He had to admit, if she didn't look like a soft, Southern girl, he'd have taken her for a decent woman of his people

He did tire of dodging her attacks though and decided to make an attempt to put a stop to this farce. He stood still as she lashed out with her fist, striking him in the stomach. He respected the attempt and even the force, even if he only gave the briefest of notices that she'd connected.

"There, you hit me. I'm vanquished. We're done now." He stated as fact, walking towards the carriage

Eloise stepped back, looking up at him with absolutely no doubt that she knew what he'd done.

"You let me."

"I did." Olaf nodded "But that's an important lesson of warfare. Sometimes you can win simply by being so annoying for so long that the other side gets tired and hungry and gives up."

"But I didn't really hit you." She maintained

"No. And you're not going to unless I let you." Olaf said, grabbing a blanket from the carriage. "You need to try to see your progress in ways other than the impossible."

Eloise fumed. Even after all the progress she'd made, tangible progress, that seemed like a challenging task. Still, she did her best to accept it and went back to the body of the boar that Olaf had killed that day. Even though Eloise hadn't hunted the little thing, she did feel as though it was another sign of her accomplishment. She'd carved the spear, carried the carcass back to camp, hung and smoked the meat and begun drying the hide. 

She grabbed a chunk of the cooked meat and simply taken a bite, giving manners no mind. Enjoying the flavour of the crisp, smoked meat as she felt it on her tongue. Olaf had done the same. They ate their fill in relative silence, both exhausted from the day's training. When Olaf was finished, he'd simply rolled over on his side and done to sleep despite the sun being up. Eloise, however, wanted to take the opportunity to do something she'd not done since the start of her jersey. 

She grabbed some of her own things from the carriage and walked down to the edge of the lake. She lifted her ragged and torn dress over her head and walked, naked as the day she was born, into the cool still waters of the tranquil lake. The weeks worth of grime and dirt on her body felt heavy and awful as it left her body, reminding her of the fact that it had been there in the first place. She used to bathe daily, attended on by servants and never spent a day where she wasn't dressed and perfumed with the finest fragrances and material that all the ships in the world brought into her home . Now, the small bar of locally made soap she'd gotten in town seemed like the most decadent of luxuries. She inhaled deeply of it. It smelled of nothing in particular but even that was a very welcome change from the scent of sweat, animal blood and dirt that seemed to follow her wherever she went. With the soap and the small hunting knife she now carried, Eloise managed to maintain a grooming standard that, while she never would never have found acceptable in Calandria, now at least felt made her feel a bit more at ease. 

She relaxed in the water a while. Feeling the water touch every inch of her. The jagged rocks and sand under her feet not beginning to intrude on the feeling of the water caressing her aching muscles, soothe every cut and scrape she'd accumulated. She held her nose for a second and dunked her head beneath the water as well, letting her dry, greasy hair at least get some sort of wash. As she stood up, however, Eloise saw that she had streaks of black running down her chest and over her jutting breasts. She put a hand to her head and came away with more black. The dye. The dye that had gone on so easily now rinsed just as easily. Eloise had practically forgotten it. She'd grown so accustomed to being Sonia that she'd erased the idea that she'd forgotten entire aspects of who Eloise had been. The blonde delicate princess had become a hardened, fearless raven-haired huntress. The black dye, which she quickly washed from her hair and from her body, reminded her of that. Of the ways she'd changed but also the ways she hadn't. The thought made Eloise frown and caused her to cut her bathing short. Feeling clean and cooled by the experience, she walked back to the camp completely naked, forgoing modesty so as to not have to dress in her dirty garments. She walked up to the sleeping Olaf and gave him a swift kick in the back.

"Hmmmm?" He said, roused from his sleep only slightly. "What is it?"

"I want to have sex with you." She stated bluntly. It was true. She wasn't attracted to him. Far from it. But he'd told her of what men would require of her in her new home and this was the one area of life they hadn't touched on in their weeks together. Olaf did not seem particularly surprised by the news although it did jolt him from his slumber. He stared up at her naked, dripping body and, rather than betray any degree of attraction on his own part, just looked mildly surprised at the change in her appearance.

"Your hair is blonde." He said, simply stating the fact.

"It is. Now get it out." Eloise motioned to his pants

"Can I at least ask why you've taken such a shine to me all of a sudden?" Olaf asked although his removing of his cloak clearly indicated he was amenable to her request.

"Nothing to do with you." Eloise said as she stood a little closer to the crackling fire, letting the heat dry her dripping skin. "But I may want a man someday. May want children. If I need to know what I'm doing for a family in your backwards nation I need to learn it all. No half-measures."

Olaf could feel his cock harden. Ordinarily he had little taste for soft Coastal girls, he'd been raised to appreciate the stronger, sterner women of his land. But Eloise was extraordinarily beautiful. Even after her hard journey she still had maintained her delicate femininity. Her high, full breasts capped with light peach-coloured nipples, fully hardened by some combination of the desire for sex and the dip in the cold water of the lake. Her slender form was unusual to him but her wide hips indicated she may indeed be suitable to bear the children of his people and the golden curls between her legs held their own unique appeal to Olaf. He undid his tunic as well, finally. 

His torso was as she'd expected it. Muscled, with hair as dark as on his head, and scarred. It was not at all the body of the man she'd envisioned herself doing this with. It was one forged by hard, physical work and battle. 

"And you've never done this before?" Olaf asked as he began to tug at the leather breeches he wore.

"Never." Eloise nodded, her mouth feeling dry and her body warm. Marietta had long since told her of what would actually transpire when she engaged in the act but she'd kept herself pure as was her duty. "But I'd never gutted and skinned small animals before I met you either and I figure I've grown accustomed enough to the unpleasantness and mess of your womenfolk's duties to do this too."

Olaf laughed. She really did sound like she hadn't been with a man. This gave him no pause, however, as he removed his leathers. He'd made many a girl a woman in his days. He finally removed his clothing, letting his mammoth cock come into full view.

"This....this was a mistake. This will not work." Eloise shook her head as she finally saw his massive organ in the light of day. It was an immense thing. Not smooth and soft as she'd hoped it might appear but dark and cragged, with heavy veins, with two similarly oversized testicles below it. "That will not fit inside me."

Olaf chuckled. He'd bedded Calandrian women before. One's who were shorter and slimmer than the Princess. They all said something similar when they saw him for the first time. 

"It will." Olaf stated, patting beside him on the blanket. "We just need to get you ready first. Come here and we'll begin."

Eloise nodded, trusting his instruction. She felt like a small child again, seeing Olaf before her father. He seemed just as giant and imposing as he had then, more so because of the thing between his legs, and she was just as terrified of him as she'd been then. But she did as instructed, sitting on the blanket beside him. Her body was mainly dry as she lay on the somewhat harsh material she'd slept beneath for these last few days and though on a soft patch of grass, the hard ground beneath her was still what she felt as she sat. This was a far cry from the plush bed and fine silk coverings she'd assumed would mark this occasion. Olaf looked at her fiercely, his grey eyes seeming to suck her into him, making her stop thinking of the oddity of the situation and as he leaned in towards her, Eloise felt her reservations fall away some. 

He did not kiss her lips, as Eloise had expected, but rather her neck. His beard wiry and rough as he did. She craned her head to the side though, allowing him a better access to it. He kissed for a while before his kisses became bites. Soft at first but then harder. Her neck and her ear and her shoulder. Eloise simply assumed it was the way the Nilfen mated. Eloise had been expecting tender kisses but she had to admit the sensation was not unpleasant. It felt primal and raw. As though she were being claimed by right of dominance. His large hands made her breasts feel small as he cupped them, he was clearly taking some especial delight in the feeling of the soft flesh and firm nipples in his hands. He tweaked the buds slightly as his mouth travelled down from her collarbone to them. He was only somewhat gentler with them than he'd been her neck. He sucked them into his mouth. First one, then the other and then, pushing them together, seemingly trying to fit both at once. 

After she'd seen him as a girl, Eloise had had nightmares of him. Of him having her for breakfast. The thought came to mind as he feasted on her breasts. It was an apt description. He bit gently and left his saliva on her nipples as if he were having her as a meal. Rather than be terrified, Eloise was exhilarated. The growing heat and wetness between her thighs now at a fevered pitch she'd never experienced before. Eloise moaned, cradling his head to her breasts as she felt herself almost unconsciously spread her legs. She was glad now that she'd made this decision. She wanted this. Wanted him. He kept moving his head down, past her stomach. his hands gripping her thighs and spreading them apart wider. Eloise knew what he was doing, Marietta had told her of this too. She hadn't assumed that such perversions would be in her own future but perhaps this is what he'd meant by getting her ready. 

He leaned forward and gingerly licked at the folds of her sex, tasting her wetness. This brought a moan of appreciation from the Princess. Marietta had described the act as pleasurable, so pleasurable that the two of them should try it together, but Eloise had thought that was simply an appetite unique to her friend. Now, as she felt his large, rough tongue run the length of her, Eloise again regretted that she'd not been as bold with Mari. Not that she wasn't enjoying herself, as Olaf's tongue ran over the bud of her clitoris, she moaned again and doubted Marietta could possibly have known how to do what he was doing. He flicked at it for a while, causing Eloise to throw her head back in pleasure and again attempt to pull his head closer to her. Olaf began licking it quickly, sharply and expertly. Causing a series of increasing moans and gasps from Eloise's soft, barely parted mouth. She tried to decide between closing her eyes, losing herself in the pleasure, and keeping them open and watching the strange act and so she varied between the two. Opening them in attempt to see just how he was bringing her such pleasure but closing them when that pleasure became too much to take. She could feel something building inside her, another of the things her Lady in Waiting had described, as he maintained his frenzied pace. She felt as though she was being devoured as he'd slip his tongue inside her and lick her deeply before returning to his ministrations at that tremendous and long neglected part of her anatomy that he was so expertly administering to. She felt her whole body heating up, her muscles stiffen. She knew the act was coming to a climax.

"Something...oh...something's so close..." Eloise moaned as he continued. She didn't know what it was but she remembered disbelieving Marietta's descriptions of how exhilarating it was. She would never doubt Mari again. It was so close and he was going to give her her first.....

But no. He'd stopped. Eloise opened her eyes and looked down at him, angrily.

"Why have you stopped?" She demanded. Olaf was wiped his mouth with his hand before answering.

"You seemed ready." He said frankly as he got back to his knees.

"But....that was phenomenal. I want to do more of it."

"You wanted to learn the ways of the Nilfen." Olaf said "I only did that you get you ready. Rest assured, Girl, that is not something that you'll receive much of up North."

Eloise fumed. She hated the place again. 

"Unless you become one of the Wyrd women, of course." Olaf continued as he put his hands beneath her and brought her up, lifting her effortlessly with his hands on her back so that she was being held aloft over his penis. "But they can teach you their ways themselves."

Eloise moaned in frustration but only because the heat was still there. She hoped the next bit would be nearly as satisfying. Olaf brought her down onto him, biting her shoulder again as she felt her virtue give way to him. She grunted in pain as he did, the large cock pressing into her slowly but strongly, parting her as he entered. Eloise felt impossibly full. The sensation at once pleasurable and painful. She had no real words to describe it. She felt like she wanted to go down further, take more, take this act to it's conclusion but Olaf's strong hands controlled their pace. He kept sinking, feeding his length into her. She understood why the previous act had been necessary. Even with the increased amount of her wetness it was still stretching her impossibly tight and would not have been possible if he'd not coaxed that eagerness out of her. Every time he stopped because of her tightness Eloise had assumed he'd filled her with all of what he had but, after a moment or two of adjustment, he'd push deeper. He seemed endless. In fact, she ended before he did and she grunted in pain as she felt the blunt, thick head of his cock nudge against her limits. He pulled back slightly and rested.

"That's it then." Olaf grunted as he looked down, a good third of his cock still not inside her. Still, that was an impressive amount for even a Nilfen woman. Eloise sighed as she tried getting used to the size of him. He was so large she felt as though she couldn't possibly but, as she stayed still, she felt herself almost shape to his size. It began to feel good. A very different kind of good than his mouth and lips had made her feel but it was unmistakable. When he began withdrawing himself slightly and she felt his every vein and ridge begin to rub against her on exit, Eloise had to admit it may have even been a better kind of good. As soon as he'd withdrawn most of what he'd put into her he thrust forward for the first time.




Eloise's Journey



"Oh." Eloise said, feeling as though the thrust inside of her had knocked the wind from her. She felt herself squeeze around him involuntarily as he began feeding her long, steady strokes of his cock. Slow enough so as not to pain her but hard enough to give her more of that delicious, unbearable friction. She didn't know if she could take the pleasure it was so intense.

"Please...please..." She choked out. She'd planned to tell him to stop, go slower, but as she felt his rhythm increase and the heat inside her build again, any such notions were knocked from her and a different request came to her lips "More...harder."

Olaf complied, surprised at the request. His pace increased as he felt his passage ease a little on every thrust, he fucked her harder now. Still with long, even strokes and still stopping just short of her limits. Eloise began moaning uncontrollably, her hands wrapped around Olaf's neck. She had no words, could not have described the sensation, and so she simply gasped and moaned and occasionally entreated him to go harder. She could feel that same heat building but from inside now and spreading outward. She was getting to where she'd been before, she just prayed to all the gods she knew he wouldn't stop this time.

She needn't have worried. He kept thrusting as that something finally came. Her mind going white and her mouth going dry as she screamed so loud that the day's hunting would be ruined by the animals it would scare away. She was lost in the delirious, spasming pleasure. Unsteady waves emanating in every direction from inside her, curling her toes and causing her to dig her fingers into the skin of the man who was doing this to her. The soft, blonde princess riding her first orgasm to it's conclusion with little active thought, simply animal instinct. She quivered and shook and moaned and kept begging for even more. Again he delivered, another earth shattering climax ripped from her body, wringing it of every ounce of composure she had. His thrusting never varying even as she tightened considerably around him. Olaf's expression was one of his own pleasure. Both due to his own friction and the fact that the Princess was a delicious sight when enraptured. As Eloise's second climax still shook her, Olaf's began. His cock discharging inside her with a few days of accumulated wait. A considerable volume of his hot seed filled her and she climaxed again, a smaller, sharper explosion that made her whimper such a soft whimper it sounded as though it was the last sound she had left inside her. As Olaf's climax finished he finally lay her back down onto the scratchy blanket. Eloise was barely conscious and yet had never felt so alive. As though there had been some great other aspect to life going on behind curtains all her life that she was now privy to. Like she had a new sense. She lay on the blanket as he rolled off her, withdrawing his cock one last and complete time, and looked up at the wide blue sky. 

"Now, that was a little more soft and tender than you'd get from most Nilfenmen." Olaf said after a few seconds of his own recovery. Eloise, whose brain was returning to her in bits and pieces, could not wrap her head around the concept. That had been hard and intense and almost brutal in it's savagery by her feeling. 

"How so?" She asked, her words intended to be cautious and disbelieving but simply coming out as if she'd just been woken.

"Well, ordinarily an experienced woman wouldn't have simply taken it. There's more of a give and take, back and forth. He'll be on you, giving you what he can and, if one of our women wants it harder or faster, she doesn't ask. She either chides him into giving it to her or wrestles back, pinning him and making the act faster and harder." Olaf's voice sounded just the same as it had when he'd explained to her how to fish or cook and gave no indication that what he'd just done had been any more pleasurable or exhausting than those things had been. 

"Next time." Eloise managed to get out.

"Would you like to go again now?" Olaf asked, a little surprised but seemingly up for the task. Eloise would have shouted her answer if she could but she didn't have it in her.

"No." She simply sighed. She was done for the day. She felt sleep coming on. 

"Well, know that you have much to learn on that subject."

Eloise just nodded. They'd train every day. She'd insist on it.

(RCH: Sure to be one of the more talked about chapters of this work, Eloise's deflowering at the hands of the War Chief, though embarrassing to some members of the nobility, is not in any serious dispute. Confirmation of the lovemaking techniques of the Nilfenmen is another matter and was another subject I discussed with the Nilfen Village Elder on my trip. I enquired about the claims concerning the size, skill and relative virility of their men and he confirmed the account relayed here to me explicitly, leaving no doubt in my mind as to the veracity of the account presented . When asked about the Nilfenmen's reluctance to engage their women in cunnilingus his response was "Up to everyone I suppose. Not really spoken of. Now roll over, small one, I think you'll enjoy it even more when I confirm our virility from behind this time.")

~Chapter Seven, in which the last of the guards are dealt with~

As Princess Eloise had planned, such sexual congress became a daily part of her and Olaf's trip. While her other lessons would continue as well, every night they stopped was punctuated by another bout of passionate sex. Each time seemingly more intense and pleasurable than before. Olaf had done it to her from behind, while she was lifted aloft in his arms as he stood, while she was bent over the back of the carriage and in various other positions. Eloise insisted on learning them all. She was becoming quite proficient at it. She was too small to wrestle Olaf but when she did find herself on top of him she had no trouble directing the speed and intensity of their coupling. A time or two she even managed to wrest his climax from him before she found her own, a change of pace that while it was momentarily frustrating she saw as a great victory over him. He'd exerted such a power over her before, now she felt as though she had a part of that as well. Her frustration may have been greater, however, if their coupling had not always started again a few minutes later with different results. 

While on the road Eloise tried to keep her mind off of her new discovery but she couldn't help dwelling on it at times. When she'd sit up front with Olaf she'd invariably look to him and think of some fresh bout they'd had and would ask him if they couldn't stop for a few minutes and go into the back of the carriage. Olaf would invariably agree. He'd even suggested it a time or two himself. Their journey was becoming delayed, however, and their frequent stops for lessons and such had added nearly a week onto their travel time. So it was that they had been pushing on for some time now and he'd resisted her recent advances. To a point. He'd informed her that there was something she could do while he was driving the carriage and explained in detail. She'd resisted only for a moment, it having been something Marietta had also described to her and she could still remember promising herself she'd never engage in no matter how her husband might beg. But she relented quickly. Which is how they came to be on this particular stretch of road, driving along slowly, with Olaf's thick cock wedged halfway down Eloise's throat.

She'd taken to it rather quickly, once she'd managed to get her mouth wide enough to take the thing and found the taste was not as repellent as she might imagine. She was bobbing on it quickly, wetly, her fist working the part too wide and much for her to get into her mouth as her other hand caressed and lightly squeezed the large heavy balls that were below it. 

"Unngh, I don't believe you. You've done this before." Olaf moaned, expertly navigating even as Eloise sucked him like a skilled courtesan. She didn't stop to answer. It wasn't true, she hadn't. But she took to this like she'd taken to everything he taught her. Olaf saw that a hard turn was coming. He knew it well. A final turn North before the Ascibian border town of Kirkley and then only two days until they'd be across the border. He guided the cart on the proper turn, feeling very ready to burst into the Princesses mouth, and cursed loudly. Up ahead in the distance was another block in the road and two guards. 

"Off me, off me." Olaf tapped her shoulder. Eloise complied, stopping her ministrations and removing the meaty prick from her mouth with a small popping noise. She sat upright as she saw the same thing Olaf did and attempted to straighten her now Black hair. Olaf shoved his cock back into his breeches as he continued to curse.

"Blast." He said "And I was so close to being there."

"Gods, you poor thing. I wonder what that must be like." She said dismissively, referencing their first time. "Frustrating I bet."

"Pipe down." Olaf chided as they approached. There were two guards on either side of the road but, unlike all the others they'd seen, these looked nothing like professional soldiers. One seemed far too skinny to be a soldier and held his weapon as if it might come to life and bite him. The other was heavier, with a paunch at his midsection and spectacles. The skinnier of the two was the one who approached them, nervously and doing his best to appear imposing.

"Halt in the name of the Ascibian empire, mightiest nation in the land and under the rule of the powerful Atonides the...."

"Again with that. You can just say halt, you know" the heavier one said as he shook his head in annoyance

"The Ascibian Army's guidelines strictly say that when stopping a passenger before inspection that the entire warning must be made for any such searches to be considered just and true." the skinny one countered, clearly having entrusted the rule to memory. The heavier one just looked at him contemptuously.

"The day I actually agree to be in the Ascibian Empire's Army is the day that I use that guidebook for anything other than wiping my bottom clean." 

"Agree nothing." the skinny one said before again sounding as if he were reciting "When war causes the Emperor's Regulars to be deployed to the valiant effort, citizens may be conscripted to serve in reserve units, filling such non-essential...."

"Non-essential is right. I didn't even know the Empire stretched this far North." The heavy one said as he rubbed his hands together in the cool air. "I was a student in the capital, you know. Not one of the king's empty-headed volunteers"

"And it's exactly that kind of disrespect for the selfless men who fight to protect..."

"Oh stow it. What's valiant about warring on the Hildok tribes to the south? How did attempting to conquer the Northerners protect us?" 

"The Nilfen were beasts! Men who ate their enemies raw and savage their own daughters. Their people deserved to learn our ways and..."

"You're just flat out quoting the bulletins the Town Criers read! You know they're written by the part of the government that's actually called the Department of Propaganda, don't you? The Nilfen, differing culture though they may have, were wildly slandered and grossly underestimated. Fighting them left us with massive debts, a weakened army and nothing to show for the effort"

"Oh and I'm sure that your school books are..."

Olaf and Eloise simply looked at the two, puzzled. They'd been stopped and then largely ignored as they bickered. 

"We'd like to be on our way, please." Olaf said, tiredly

The two guards finally turned to the carriage, seeing that the occupants appeared to be of the Nilfen. The skinny one almost visibly choked back a gulp. 

"N-not so fast. We've been instructed to search any carriages passing through and interrogate their passengers. Thoroughly." he said, nervously

"Oh, for the love of." the heavy one interrupted "I'm Private Filgrove and this is PFC Milgan."

"Why are you still introducing yourself to the detainees?" Milgan asked angrily. Filgrove turned from Olaf to his compatriot briefly

"Because my mother taught me to do so when meeting new people." Filgrove explained wearily before turning back to Olaf "You look like Northerners, you Northerners?"

"We are." Olaf nodded, looking oddly at the two guards still.

"Where you coming from?" 

"Calandria."

"A-ha! They admitted it!" Milgan exclaimed excitedly, tightening his grip on his sword. 

"Admitted what?" Filgrove rolled his eyes "We have carriages coming through here every day from Calandria. That's why this road exists."

"But look, it's a girl. It could be...her" The skinny guard said as he pointed his sword in the direction of Eloise. "We have to ascertain beyond a reasonable doubt that it's not...her as per our orders."

"You're right!" Filgrove said, mimicking Milgan's excitement and drawing his own sword and pointing it at Eloise as well. "Are you the escaped Princess Eloise of Calandria?"

Eloise felt her heart quicken. Not so much because of the guards or their swords but because it meant news had gotten out of her flight from her homeland. If these two knew, any soldier on the continent knew. She remained passive as she began to recite her story.

"No, my name is So...."

"You're not?" Filgrove said in mock surprise, sheathing his sword. "You're just a Northern girl on the road with her father?"

Eloise nodded at their cover simply being assumed.

"I believe my doubts have all been reasoned away," Filgrove continued "You, Mil?"

"You weren't supposed to tell them that the Princess is who we're looking for!" Milgan chided, without taking his eyes off of that very same girl. Filgrove ignored him.

"Anything in your carriage that violates the peace accord between the Empire and your people?" He asked "Or hiding anyone?"

"No," Olaf shook his head

"Mind if that one takes a look to confirm?" Filgrove motioned to his partner.

"Help yourself." Olaf shrugged

Milgan scurried back behind them and began inspecting the carriage. Filgrove looked apologetically at Eloise and then Olaf.

"I'm sorry about this, really. You can't imagine how little I want to be here," he said ruefully "Trust me, if I could choose a different king, I would. Although his sons aren't much better, I'm afraid."

"Those things about Prince Francis are rumours!" Milgan's voice came from the carriage. Filgrove ignored it.

"With any luck this Princess escaping business will bring some sense around here." Filgrove said hopefully

"Kirkley is just nearby, right?" Olaf said, changing the subject "They have an inn and tavern, right?"

"A couple." Filgrove nodded "There's the Derbyshire arms, the Hood and Fox...."

"Any of them serve food? Good, hot food? And have anything decent to drink?"

"That'd be the Hood and Fox, little west of the Barracks," he said almost eagerly "Think they're doing mutton tonight. They do it nice, all rubbed with herbs and roasted. Seen a few of you Northern types there too so they'll probably have something to hold you over drink wise."

Olaf nodded. The plan had been to stop for the night and then make the final push. The food and drink definitely made him want to stop. Filgrove simply shook his head and looked skeptically at Olaf, then Eloise.

"You lot don't really sleep with your daughters, do you?" he asked cautiously

"We don't," Olaf said definitively. "But reputations start."

Filgrove nodded, relieved, 

"You know what we Ascibians used to be known for? Before we started all this madness? The arts. We were painters and sculptors and playwrights." He said to nobody in particular. "That's where I should be. In the capital. Starting a theatre company. Writing plays."

Milgan came back from the carriage just in time to hear this

"What would you write a play about? Some bawdy comedy? Or one of those neat ones where they use all the cow's blood in the battle scenes?" Milgan asked, genuinely interested. Filgrove shook his head.

"I was thinking something smaller. Just two people. Something about us." Filgrove said with some consideration

"About us? Being guards? And fighting bandits?" Milgan said, sounding interested

"No, about this. About being here, against our will. And waiting for a carriage, with a princess inside, that might never come."

"Sounds boring." Milgan said, disappointed

"But it's a metaphor, right?" Filgrove shook his head to argue "About how all of us are used. How we soldiers allow ourselves to have our lives interrupted or even ended to suit the whims of Nobles we'll never meet for causes they never really explain. I mean, I don't know this Princess. Her escape means nothing to me. But I get conscripted because they need more guards on these roads because she's gone. Does she have a good reason for escaping? Maybe. Is it bad for the Empire? Maybe. But the empire doesn't give a damn about me, so what do I care? So the two soldiers would represent every soldier. One, the naive patriot and the other the cynical and artistic one. So, in a larger sense, it would also represent the struggle for our national identity."

"May we leave?" Olaf said, somewhat annoyed now at their bickering. Filgrove nodded and stood off the side. Milgan did the same on the other end of the road. Olaf gave the horse a push and they started off slowly.

"I don't know," Milgan said, scratching his chin as the carriage drove off "What would happen when they found the princess?"

"They wouldn't. She'd never come. Maybe she'd never actually escaped." Filgrove kept arguing for his idea "It would be about the futility of it all."

"So then where's the action?"

Filgrove's response to this was not heard by Eloise as, by then, the carriage was well out of hearing distance. She did, however, think about what he'd said about her actions. How she hadn't considered what her actions would do to people she'd never met. Also, she thought that the play Filgrove was describing did sound boring and somewhat pretentious.

(RCH: As one might suspect, the Private Filgrove described here is, in fact, noted Ascibian actor and playwright Fenmore Filgrove. This story was included at my ministry's request, after it had been confirmed, with the belief that the common folk love hearing about the early lives of celebrities. Theatre enthusiasts may even see the early seeds of Filgrove's most celebrated work in this chapter. Standing on the Side of the Road with an Idiot: A Bawdy Comedy, continues to be a popular and beloved production both in Ascibia, Calandria and in many other lands.)

~Chapter Eight, in which insults are traded~

Olaf and Eloise made their way to the Fox and Hood inn with great haste. They both had agreed that the sound of food that did not need to be killed beforehand and a warm room for the night sounded like a welcome and refreshing change of pace. Olaf had been concerned to one degree or another about extending their trip in a town with a garrison but, if the two guards they just passed were any indication, that would be of little concern. Olaf wanted a drink, Eloise wanted a bath. They both wanted to eat. 

The Fox and Hound was a large, reasonably well appointed place. Catering to travelling merchants and local soldiers mainly. Olaf had booked a room and Eloise had taken a hot bath as soon as they got there. The hot water had felt divine when she'd sank inside the tub. It was like her dip in the lake had been only multiplied by a thousand. She felt clean. She felt rested. She felt safe. The end of her journey seemed nearby. More than that, she felt like a different person. 

She was stronger now. Both in body and in constitution. She'd learned so much in barely 40 days away from home. She could hardly imagine herself as the sheltered girl she'd been. She felt womanly. And not in the weak and subservient manner that women in her home now seemed. She thought of herself as capable and confident. Not based on her birthright but on what she could do. Over the weeks their scratchy blankets had been replaced by a soft stitching of furs she'd made from the animals they'd caught, something that was as empowering as it was as a symbol of her growth as it was a welcome change of pace for her backside and knees when she and Olaf would couple. That change was brought on by her. Her skill. Her craft.