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Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 01

By: bashfullyshameless



Warning: The following story contains explicit violence, explicit sex, unfair racial stereotyping of goblins and ogres, bald-faced lies and innuendo, treachery, lazy misappropriation of pagan gods and goddesses, unsafe rooftop stunts, ego-driven consumption of alcohol, mass immolations, impalings, irreverence, arson, assault on religious workers, sentient-on-sentient devourings, divinely sanctioned sexual promiscuity, conscription, passive-aggressive posturing, adults playing with their food, undemocratic government, oral sex, adultery, destruction of private property, coarse language, questionable speech patterns, nudity, unwitting insults, completely incidental anal sex, looting of corpses, human-on-goblin violence, copious spattering of blood, numerous fantasy tropes, a lesbian temple orgy, self-important nobles, workplace accidents, negotiations in bad faith, falls from a fatal height, weaponized bedding, dine-and-dashing, breaking and entering, stalking, surveillance, frenemies and the sorcerous abuse of a dragon...

...though not all in the first chapter, of course.

*

Davos chose to die in front of the Temple of Aphrodite. It seemed like the best possible place.

Five minutes before that, he'd never entertained such a thought. He still expected that the soldiers manning the city's high walls could hold until dawn. For much of the night, he stood in the streets below while real soldiers up above defended the city with bows and spears. Davos hoped that his duties as a conscript would amount to only a sleepless night followed by a long day of clearing carts, wagons and other barricades from the city's streets.

Like all the other sailors and dockworkers conscripted from the waterfront, the young man wore little in the way of arms or armor. His black ponytail hung from beneath an ill-fitting leather helmet. He had his cutlass and an old crossbow that one of the regular soldiers shoved into his hands. Beyond that, all he had for his protection was his loose blue shirt and tan sailor's pants.

Some, like Davos, came along willingly. Others required coarse persuasion. A mere handful of regular soldiers waited along with them, scattered among and behind the conscripts to maintain order and ensure no one ran. Davos wondered if those soldiers had been chosen because they had the influence to secure a safer assignment, or because they were too unreliable to put on the front line.

"Do you know how to use that cutlass, Westerner?" asked the man-at-arms beside him. Baleth, if Davos remembered correctly. Davos's fellow conscripts mostly wielded cheap spears and axes better suited to craftwork than fighting; Davos at least had his weapon from the ship's stores.

He wondered how many of his comrades even knew how to use their weapons. He wondered how many had ever been in real battles. He wondered how many would stand their ground and how many would run. Clearly Baleth wondered the same thing.

"I've been in a few fights," Davos nodded. His plain-spoken accent sounded casual and even a bit lazy compared to the crisp enunciation of words in Loewen.

"Do you hail from a warship?"

"I've only served on merchant ships," Davos shook his head.

"How does that pay?"

"The pay is lousy," Davos grinned in spite of himself. "Meals are small and usually cold, living space is cramped and you're usually sore just from holding yourself upright and steady all day long, but you get to see the world, at least. It got me out of Murried."

Baleth frowned. "That's why you took to sea? You just wanted to travel?"

"Well," Davos shrugged, "it might've had to do with the girl my parents decided I had to marry."

"Hunh. Ugly one?"

"No, kind of pretty, actually," Davos said. "Her family had much more money than mine. It's not as if she was a bad catch."

Baleth's eyebrow rose. "Then why didn't you stay and marry her?"

Again, Davos shrugged. "Didn't love her."

A terrible roar split the night and fire swept across the top of the city wall. Flames consumed archers and men-at-arms crowded on the battlements, fully engulfing some and leaving others crawling away or even leaping off the platform. Davos saw the source of the flame for only a moment. It was larger than most ships he'd seen, with broad wings and a black sheen to its scales that partly reflected the flames. He saw its glowing green eyes as it passed overhead. He felt the hot wind of the air pushed forward and down as it flew past. Between the noise and the rush of wind, it seemed as if the whole world shook.

He may have heard laughter, too, carried through the night on those wings, but he wasn't sure. There were soon other things to worry about.

Survivors on the walls tried to rally, but the effort soon turned to cries of pain and panic. Dozens of smaller, humanoid black shapes came leaping over the side onto the walls. Blades flashed. More screams split the night. Too few men remained on the walls to hold back the goblins, who appeared to hardly need ladders or ropes to scale the walls from the other side.

"Bet you wish you'd married the girl now," Baleth grunted, and then called out loudly, "Hold ground! Sergeant Carstwick!" he yelled across the line to his right. It wasn't that broad a line; the city streets were no more than ten yards across. "Sergeant Carstwick, are we--Sergeant? Where are you--?"

Davos didn't need to look. He knew the fat sergeant was already running as fast as his chubby legs could carry him, and that others ran with him.

"Baleth!" Davos yelled. A sea of dark shapes and the green flames of goblin fire flooded the other end of the street. Goblin slingers hurled their fire in every direction, burning houses and shops as well as setting parts of the barricade alight. The charge came in almost the same breath.

He loosed a bolt from his crossbow. His target stepped aside just in time, as did the goblin behind him, but the third one back took the shot in the gut and collapsed. Davos only struck home because the number of targets made it hard to miss. The fires made it easy enough to see the mass of charcoal black skin, mismatched armor and hungry yellow eyes.

Others should have taken advantage of the enemy's crowded positioning to put more of them down, but too many fled. Davos didn't even look to see how lonely he was. He didn't dare.

"For the king!" Baleth yelled. "For your homes! For glory!" He stood tall to hurl his spear. Whether or not it hit anything, Davos didn't see; he focused on reloading his crossbow. When he looked up, Baleth flew backward from the barricade with three arrows and a pair of spears in him.

Davos had just enough time to shoot the first goblin to leap atop the barricade before his crossbow was no longer appropriate to the fight. The goblin's eyes bulged and its mouth full of broken, jagged teeth fell open. Davos found the sight too unsettling to consider whether its reaction was one of pain or anger. It fell to the cobblestone street beside him, dead from the bolt in its chest.

Many other goblins took its place as Davos drew his cutlass and snatched up his shield. He swung his blade, parried, slashed and dodged. He battered opponents with his shield as often as he used it to block their attacks. Soon, he had no time to look up from the melee.

Other men stood their ground along with Davos. How he stayed alive through those five minutes was beyond him, though much of the credit surely belonged to those others who refused to flee. Boasting was not in his nature; even when faced with a trio of opponents, one hammering away at his shield, another trying to get through his parrying cutlass, and the third between them looking for an opening, Davos presumed that everyone else around him had it worse.

Davos knew he was proficient. He didn't doubt his abilities. Yet he never would have predicted he'd be the last man standing out of the whole line.

More goblins streamed from the broken gate at the walls to the city and ran right past him, leaving their brethren to dispatch this last human soldier. Sooner or later, he realized, one or more would pause to pitch in. Three-on-one was impossible enough; four or more opponents would be far more than Davos could handle.

The one on his left swung further out to the side, drawing out Davos's shield. The goblin on the right lunged, forcing Davos to parry. He knew, even as his sword came up, that he was open to the center opponent now. No time to think.

Lunging in with his sword out low, the goblin, too, was exposed. Davos stepped forward to meet his middle foe, bringing his foot down hard on the goblin's knee. The step saved him from being skewered by his opponents to the sides.

Yellow eyes winced shut on the middle goblin's round, vicious face as his knee buckled. Davos brought the edge of his shield and the basket hilt of his cutlass together on either side of the enemy's head. The goblin made a quick, painful noise and collapsed.

Davos spun around, giving ground quickly, now backing toward the oncoming hordes rather than away. He had nowhere else to go. His opponents followed him, ready to exploit, but Davos did the unexpected again. He squatted down low, sweeping out with his shield to clip one across the knee. The slashing blade of the goblin to his other side passed over Davos's head. He retaliated with a slash of his own, cutting deeply into the goblin's abdomen to leave him falling in a screaming heap on the street.

The remaining foe backed off. Davos had his first chance to see how much of the city was already in flames, and how little of the guard or the army remained, and how freely the goblins looted. He realized there was nothing left of the line he fought to maintain.

He heard that terrible roar again, and the screams of burning and dying people that accompanied it.

The final goblin opponent grabbed at the small horn hanging from a leather string around his neck and blew for aid. Other goblins looked up from their looting or their burning to hiss at him, to hoot and howl and yell for his blood.

The army had been overwhelmed. Resistance crumbled. Goblins streamed into the city. Davos had only to decide whether to hide—from goblins who could see in the dark, and could hear and smell much better than any human—or to pick a place to make his final stand.

Davos ran. The few goblins to get in his way were either battered aside by his shield or fended off by his blade.

He came to a rise overlooking the walled estates and temples of a wealthier neighborhood and spotted a likely place. Davos had little love for the rich, and no personal loyalties to any residents of Loewen, but there were always the gods and their ideals.

Love seemed like a good cause to die for. He'd never really known it in his young life--he'd known love of family, and of friends, but since taking to sea, his romances were limited to weak moments in taverns with women who usually expected payment. The marriage his parents arranged had more to do with land ownership and favors owed between elders than the interests of bride or groom.

Love had eluded him, but he never gave up on his hopes. He was too young for that, and knew it.

There would be no such romances for him now. Love was for people who would live through the night. At this point, it was little better than a myth. As he heard the padded feet and huffing breath of his increasingly large mob of pursuers, though, he considered that it was a better myth to die for than the majesty of the queen or the sanctity of this city--neither of which, truth be told, were his. His ship arrived only recently, and he owed this queen no allegiance. It was a pleasant enough city, but not a city with a special place in his heart. He'd been conscripted right off the docks.

Davos set his gaze on the towering roof of the temple of Aphrodite and ran. Dying for a foreign city and for someone else's monarch seemed silly. Dying to protect symbols of love seemed at least relatively worthwhile.

* * *

Bodies and blood tarnished the broad white stones of the Plaza of the Divines. The city of Loewen was famous for the beautiful religious district, with large temples to Odin, Isis, Aphrodite and Frey facing one another in a broad, open square. Shrines to other deities could be found in the square and beyond it. Statues and carvings in marble walls depicted the successive arrivals of the gods to the world, the struggles between pantheons, the deaths of some and the ascensions of others. Loewen's market district was just as famous and larger in scale, yet such bustling activity did not make for clean tiles and ornate statuary.

Ariella, High Priestess of Aphrodite in Loewen, thought herself blessed to live and worship in such a place of beauty. That she would die here frightened her, certainly, but knowing that the dragon and the goblin horde would destroy the district and slaughter everyone within it broke her heart.

Blood stained her hands and her white robes. Some of that blood was red; more of it was black. Before she dedicated herself to the goddess twenty years ago, Ariella had been the daughter of a retired knight who refused to let his daughter be defenseless. She knew how to use a blade, and though she was not as well-practiced as the soldiers and knights who lay dead in the square, she nonetheless fought for her temple and her city.

Few of her peers and fewer of the laypeople of the city expected to see the slender, red-haired beauty tear into the goblins with a sword. Ariella cut down more than a handful of them before the two ogres showed up--and even one of those ogres now huddled against a statue, clutching at the wide gash she'd cut into its thigh.

The other ogre, unfortunately, made for more trouble than she could handle alone. The grey-skinned brute held both her long red hair and one twisted arm in his hand. Towering over Ariella at half again her height, the ogre's shaggy black hair and beaten leather clothing stunk of offal and worse. It wielded a massive club in its other hand, ready to smash either Ariella or whoever might charge in to rescue her. The odds of the latter went well beyond grim. Coming within a blade's reach of the ogre meant venturing within the reach of the much greater monster looming behind him.

The black dragon's claws dug scars in the marble stones of the plaza. Its breath had already set alight several shrines and the Temple of Frey. The bodies of dozens of men and women who died trying to fight the beast lay in a ring around it. Beyond that ring, between Ariella, the ogre and the dragon, and all the goblins crowding near the beast, stood the Prince and his Companions.

The carnage paused for a boasting match between the woefully overmatched Prince Alaric and the lunatic goblin riding the dragon's back. Ariella could have slapped both of them, were she able.

"Begone with your mob of savages and your foul beast!" bellowed Prince Alaric. He stood clad in his shining plate mail and clutching his father's sword, surrounded by his armored comrades. His long blond hair, released when he took off his helmet for the exchange, billowed in the wind. He was tall. Strong. Handsome.

Had he been born mute and with a few shreds of humility, Ariella might have taken him up on his advances. In spite of all of the fear and anguish brought on by the imminence of her death, Ariella's murmured prayers were interrupted by a single, sardonic plea: "Lady of Love, if I am to survive this night, please do not leave me indebted to this man for it. Anyone but Prince Alaric."

The goblin standing between the shoulders of the dragon cackled loudly. He held his shaking arms out wide, clutching a staff that glowed with the same eerie green light as the dragon's eyes. A similar, fainter green light shone in an arc around the goblin, protecting him from arrows and spears. It deflected sorcerous flame and lightning, too, as the burned corpse of the prince's companion wizard attested. 

"Demands not yours to make!" shouted the goblin shaman. "Demands mine! For my people!" His voice was low for a goblin, well within the range of human males. "You surrender land beyond Blue River!" he snarled, waving his hand to the southwest. "No more soldiers! No more humans! You pay us tribute now. Two bags of gold, each season, for every bag we have ever paid you. And... five of your females! Each season!"

"You wretched bastard!" cried out Romis, first of the Companions. His axe shook in his hands. "You wouldn't know what to do with gold or women if you had them!"

"I know it hurt you," replied the shaman. "That enough to know."

Laughter erupted from the goblin's troops. Romis and the other Companions grimaced. Ariella did, too. The shaman's demands for territory and gold might have been bitterly acceptable--perhaps after Alaric had been battered and humiliated--but the demand for women went beyond the pale. There would be nothing for it but further bloodshed.

Ariella's eyes swept the plaza. Terrified faces peered out from behind the walls of shrines and temples. In times of strife and danger, the religious district usually offered shelter. Now it offered only front-row seats to further horror. Somewhere behind her, her acolytes waited inside the Temple of Aphrodite to defend the sacred space with their lives as she had instructed. She wished they wouldn't have to see this before they died.

"So be it," Alaric said with a deep breath. He stepped out from the line of warriors, leaving behind his helmet and his comrades. Ariella noticed the telltale white glow of magic on his shield and sword. She wondered if it was that magic or the audience that strengthened his backbone now, for in private his courage was not so great.

She knew a great deal about the royal family. She knew the emphasis his mother placed on earning one's place. She knew the crown would never pass to him without some deed to show it had been earned.

It would have been difficult, she considered, to arrange a more spectacular opportunity than this for a prince to demonstrate his mettle.

* * *

"Oh fuck oh fuck get out of my way!" Davos shrieked, broadly swinging his shield to knock the kneeling goblin out of his path. The goblin screeched as he was flung away from looting its dead victim, and then again as the mob of goblins pursuing Davos through the streets trampled him to death.

Davos ran on. He leapt left and right whenever he dared, making as difficult a target of himself as he could for the arrows, spears and other missiles flying his way. Something glanced off the side of his helmet, causing him to stumble, roll and force himself back up again, never breaking his forward momentum.

Maybe I'm doing some good here, he thought. Maybe I'm causing a distraction. Giving some cityfolk a chance to flee. Buying time for defenders to rally.

Or maybe I'm just going to die horribly in a fucking gutter.

The howls for his blood grew louder, as did the racket made by his ever-growing horde of pursuers. He couldn't imagine what made him so much more attractive than easier, slower targets. Perhaps goblins were just as attracted to crowds as humans. Everyone assumed there must be something important, otherwise there wouldn't be a crowd, so why not join in and find out?

Davos hated crowds. He hated this particular crowd most of all.

The streets ahead teemed with goblins just like the ones behind him. He came to the rear of a great temple, perhaps Frey's by the look of it, and found a smaller crowd of goblins gathered there. Debris and flame blocked the path around the temple to either side. The walls of the temple to Frey bore cracks and scars.

The biggest and nastiest-looking of the goblins up ahead unlimbered his warhammer with both hands. His compatriots stepped up. The trap looked ready to close.

Davos ran on. At least his pursuers had apparently run out of things to throw. He picked the goblin on his right and headed straight for him, figuring this was it.


Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 01



His chosen foe wavered. The goblin's spear shook as he stepped back, and then Davos was on him. His sword bit deep. His shield came up to block the warhammer of the goblin's larger comrade. The expected blow was heavier than anything Davos had felt yet; his shield cracked halfway down the center, right to his arm.

Jarred badly, Davos stumbled down onto his back. He swept low with his cutlass, biting into the large goblin's ankle. Howling in pain, the goblin quickly shuffled away, giving Davos time to shed himself of his broken shield and to look for an escape.

Debris lay piled in front of the wall. Davos spotted an overturned cart beside it, and a huge crevasse in the wall, and the ledge up above it... and the oncoming mob, now heartbeats away. Nowhere to run in any direction.

Davos scrambled up, swinging his cutlass wildly to get his opponent out of his way. The goblin fell back onto the street. Davos didn't bother to finish him off. Instead, he stepped onto the large fallen blocks, and then onto the overturned cart, placing his cutlass in his teeth as he had so many times while climbing the ropes on his ship. The cart did not hold up under Davos's weight, but it gave him the boost he needed. He leapt for the crevasse in the wall.

Goblins raged and howled as he caught a handhold, and then secured another, and climbed for his life. He pushed himself further, climbing the battered wall as quickly as he could until his hands reached the ledge.

Small fires continued to burn inside the temple. No safety awaited him within. At best, the roof offered a moment's respite. Davos spared two seconds to consider what to do.

Then he looked down and saw the swarm of goblins boosting one another up onto the wall to climb after him. He remembered then how quickly they had overcome the city's defensive walls.

Too many to fight, he knew. Nothing else to do but run. Run until there is no place else for hands or feet, and then go down swinging. Davos climbed on, swinging himself over the side of the wide roof of the temple. Small patches of tile tumbled away as the temple burned. He ran across the roof, hoping it would not cave in without sparing a thought as to whether it made any difference. He pulled his sword from his teeth. As long as he had space to flee, he would flee.

The Plaza of the Divines opened out to him. Hordes of goblins gathered around a single large, black beast, whose broad tail lazily swept up toward the roof of the Temple of Frey.

Bloodthirsty calls behind him pushed Davos on. Dragon or not, he was as good as dead anyway. Better to go out doing something wild. Davos leapt off the roof, sailing through the air with his heart in his throat until he landed on the dragon's tail.

He scrambled on. The monster swayed and undulated, shifting under Davos's feet almost like a ship in a wild sea. At least, that was what he told himself. A voice inside him screamed, Loki's gaping cunt what the hell am I doing?!

He ran across the dragon's tail, then up its back, and then came headlong up to the big goblin standing on its shoulders with a glowing staff in his hands. The goblin spun around in surprise. A field of soft green light shone around him. It had protected him against arrows, and spears, and magic.

It could not deflect something as large and broad as a human body. Davos didn't even know what the glow was all about; he merely saw a goblin wielding sorcery, and took the only action he could. He tackled the goblin shaman straight off of the dragon's shoulders.

Davos held just enough of his wits to keep the goblin in front of him. He knew how to take a fall: arms out, knees loose, head tucked in.

The world went black. Roughly.

Then awareness returned. He lay on the ground, sore all over, surrounded by noise and shadow and smoke. He rushed to his feet. A goblin struggled to rise beside him, wheezing for breath. Wielding a staff.

Davos opened the goblin's throat with his cutlass.

The shaman fell back. The light from his staff died. For a moment, the world around him went completely still, and then disorientation from his fall caught up to him. Davos swayed on his feet, still trying to track his surroundings. There was a battle, wasn't there? Something scary? Shouldn't he be dead?

"Gnrruugg!" something tall and frightening bellowed. Davos saw the ogre just in time to duck the broad swing of its club. He dodged to his right, stumbled over the dead shaman, fell, and rolled out of the way of the next swing of the club.

Behind the ogre, Ariella gathered herself and looked up to the dragon. It seemed frozen in place. The green light shining from its eyes quickly dimmed. Then she heard the ogre's club crack the tiles of the plaza, and saw the stranger trying to avoid it. The priestess wasted no further time in observation. She pulled the spare dagger from her sleeve and lunged at the ogre from behind.

Davos knew his time was up. The ogre had him. Its club was halfway in swing... and then flew from its hands as it jerked upright and grunted in sudden pain. Davos blinked and saw a woman in white behind the ogre, arms outstretched as if stabbing it in the back.

The ogre struggled to overcome the pain. Its eyes opened toward the sky just in time to see the dragon's maw come down upon it. The ogre's scream was cut off by dozens of fearsome teeth.

Black blood erupted from either side of the dragon's mouth, drenching both Ariella and Davos. It spat out the grisly remains in the next instant. Clawed feet rose from the plaza's streets only to come down again, shaking the world all around everyone. Flame shot from the dragon's mouth, engulfing a broad swath of goblins.

"I will be made no one's fool!" roared the dragon with a voice that shook the plaza almost as badly as its footsteps. The dragon reared back, its tail sweeping away goblin marauders, human bodies and debris. It blew another long gout of flame, catching far more goblins than humans, but plainly indiscriminate in its rage.

Another huge foot came down on the body of the shaman, sending blood, flesh and broken wood from its staff everywhere. Human knights and men-at-arms fell back from the dragon alongside the surviving goblin hordes.

"None shall live to speak of this!" the dragon declared. Blasts of flame went left and right, sweeping the plaza. "None shall survive! All shall burn!"

"Stop!" cried a single voice.

The dragon's head stopped in mid-sweep. The flames cut out in time to spare the Temple of Aphrodite, and the lone, blood-spattered human standing before it with one hand up.

"Just... just stop for a moment," huffed the human in sailor's garb.

"Hmm?" rumbled the dragon.

"I can't let you do that," he said.

The dragon's eyes narrowed. Its snout came ominously close to the human. "You cannot?" it breathed. "And who are... you? No. Wait. You."

"...yes?" blinked Davos, who stood only through an act of pure willpower.

"Yes. I understand now. I... see. You broke the enchantment."

Davos blinked harder. He didn't remember when the battle went from having one dragon to having three, but they seemed to move in perfect synchronicity. At least now maybe they would talk. Woozy and exhausted, Davos reached out with one hand to lean on the snout of the dragon in the middle. "Whazzat mean?" he asked.

"I am in your debt."

"Oh... that's... nice?" He couldn't remember ever loaning anything to a dragon, but it seemed foolish to look this horse in its mouth. Its fire-breathing lizard mouth, or whatever it was.

"Tell you what," Davos managed. "Just don't burn the temple. Wait. Town. I mean the town," he corrected. "Just... just go home and we'll call it even."

He heard another rumble, and then something that sounded like an earthquake saying, "Agreed." He felt a massive gust of wind, followed by another, and then another. The snout wasn't there anymore for him to lean on, either. The wind abated, along with all the dust it had kicked up.

Davos's eyes fluttered open again. The world seemed to spin a bit, but at its center were several people, all looking at him strangely. There was a man in shiny plate mail, with other warriors around him, and a red-haired woman in filthy, blood-drenched robes.

"Wow," Davos said to the woman. "Without all that mess all over you, I'll bet you're really beautiful."

He tried to say more, but then the world spun again. The ground rushed up to slam him in the back. "Oww!" he moaned. "My head fell off of my helmet. Oww..."

* * *

Awakening in a bed rather than a hammock--or less--always stood out these days. Consciousness gradually returned, and so did the pain. Dull, throbbing, all-over pain seemed to fade into his mind along with the rest of physical sensation. It was punctuated by the sharper throbbing of bruises on his shoulder, his left forearm, his head... and by the burning pain of pulled muscles in his legs.

Davos moved a little, testing his muscles and the sensation of the sheets. The muscles worked. So did his skin. Apparently he had no clothes on at all. The bed felt very comfortable. It was more comfortable, perhaps, than any bed he'd ever lain in.

He felt a light breeze on his face, coming through a window off to one side. It was daytime. Of that, he was certain before he opened his eyes. When he did look, finding himself in a bedroom with grey stone walls, artwork and fine wooden furnishings, he had a single, overriding thought:

"I can't possibly pay for this room," he croaked.

"Ah. You are awake," said a gentle, male voice. Davos's eyes swept the room to find a middle-aged man in a fine jerkin and silk shirt sitting in a chair with a small book in his lap. Beside him in another chair sat a young woman in white robes and a hood. Blonde locks peeked out from underneath her hood as she rose. The older man stood as well, closing his book and leaving it on the chair.

"Where am I?" asked Davos.

"You are in the Temple of Isis in the city of Loewen, which still stands... largely thanks to you. I am Edward, Steward to Her Majesty Queen Lisanne."

Davos's eyes widened. "Steward to the queen? And you've been here waiting for me to wake up? Are you sure you don't have me mixed up with someone else?" His eyes flicked to the woman, who stepped forward with Edward but said nothing. He couldn't make out her eyes under that thin hood. The silver emblem hanging from a chain around her neck bore the symbol of Aphrodite rather than Isis.

"I know very little of who you are," Edward smiled patiently, "but there is no mistake. You have become a man of no small concern. A great many important people have awaited your recovery. The priests of Isis had a fair idea of when you would awaken. I haven't been waiting long at all."

Though he listened, Davos's eyes were mostly on the young woman. "Have you been waiting to speak with me, too?" he asked. Though he'd been through the most basic of rites administered by the acolytes, Davos had always felt a bit shy around them. The tales of drunkards, tavern rats and sailors about the priestesses of Aphrodite did little to allay that shyness, though he knew all such men were of dubious credibility. Yet the warmth and ease in his own voice surprised him. "What's your name?"

"I am Cinna, sir," she said, nodding her head in a bit of a bow. "I have waited... longer. How do you feel? Are you well?"

"I'm sore. Sore all over, really. A little confused, and thirsty, but... I think I'm well."

"I am to ask your name, sir," said Cinna, seeming to cut off Edward's next statement. "Your name, and where you are from." She didn't seem to pay any attention to the steward. Davos considered that the hood might make it hard for her to see Edward's open mouth or gesturing hand, but he abandoned that excuse quickly. Cinna's body language spoke of humility and a subtle presence, but just the same she didn't wait on the man beside her to speak, regardless of his stature and importance.

"Uh. I'm Davos. Davos of Murried. I came here as a sailor on the Jaunty Dolphin about two days ago... well. Two days before the battle. How long has it been since then?"

"Ah," nodded Edward. He opened a small parchment case hanging from his belt, drawing a scroll from within and unfurling it as he spoke. "From your garb and armament, we suspected you might be a sailor. You had the look of a foreigner in these lands. It appears our assumptions were accurate accurate.

"The sun has risen twice since the battle," Edward continued as he consulted his scroll. "And... yes. The Jaunty Dolphin set sail the morning after the battle," he frowned. "Several ships left the city as soon as they were able. I'm afraid yours was among them."

Davos let out a bit of a groan and leaned his head back onto his pillow. "I'm sorry," Edward said. "Whether your captain and crew thought you dead or simply couldn't wait, I do not know. I can assure you that no one in Loewen will mistake you for a deserter. Not after what you have done."

"What do you mean?" Davos blinked. "After what I've... wait." He blinked at the ceiling again. His eyes widened. "The battle."

"Yes," nodded Edward. "As I said, you brought the battle to a decisive halt. You slew the leader of the goblin horde. You turned the dragon against its allies and drove it off," he smiled gently. "You are quite the hero."

"I'm--what? But I--"

"Are you alone here in this city, Davos of Murried?" interrupted Cinna.

"Yes," Davos answered, glancing at Edward curiously. The steward merely shrugged and looked to the priestess for further elaboration, just as Davos did.

"What gods do you worship?" she asked.

"Um. All as are appropriate," he shrugged. "I pray to the seas most commonly. I sacrifice to Isis, Thor, Athena..."

"But not Aphrodite?" Her tone gave no indication of her feelings on the matter. The priestess maintained a perfectly neutral demeanor.

Davos glanced at Edward for only a moment, now feeling somewhat embarrassed. He didn't talk about this much. "I took Aphrodite as my patron when I came of age," he admitted quietly. "I pray to her often, and give to her shrines when I find them, though to no direct purpose. I have not asked for intercession or petitioned her temples."

"You are without a lover," noted Cinna.

Davos shook his head. He gave a bit of a frown. "Or a job, apparently."

"You've little to worry about there," assured Edward. "The Temple of Isis expects no payment for your care. I am here in part to see to your needs from here, at least for a few nights. The city is still in recovery, and the queen and king are still quite occupied with that, but when such matters have been settled, the crown looks forward to rewarding you appropriately." He smiled as a look of surprise crossed Davos's face. "I cannot say what that will be, but you will certainly see greater fortune here in Loewen than you would have expected on the Dolphin."

Feeling a bit too overwhelmed to crack a smile at that, Davos only nodded. His eyes turned back to Cinna.

"You set out to fight for the Temple of Aphrodite," she said flatly.

"I did," he nodded. Then he glanced at Edward. "I fought near a gate, but the lines broke. I had no orders to go anywhere or report to anyone if that happened."

"You've no need to explain yourself to me," Edward shrugged. "We're all well aware of the chaos of that night."

Davos frowned. "The red-haired woman. Is she alright?"

"She is fine," answered Cinna.

He let out a sigh. "That's good," he said. "She saved me from that ogre."

"Do you know who she is?" Cinna asked.

"No," Davos shrugged.

"She is Ariella, High Priestess to the Goddess Aphrodite," Cinna said. "I must go to her now. For myself," she added, only now showing any emotion as her voice softened, "you have my gratitude, Davos of Muried. For all that you have done. Thank you. I hope to speak with you more later, when I am not on the business of the temple. " With that, she gave another slight bowing nod of her head and left the room.

"She speaks truly," Edward explained as she left. "I understand she has been here since you were brought in."

"Didn't you say it's been two days?"

"Yes," he nodded sagely. Then he shrugged off that concern for more practical matters. "I'll fetch one of the acolytes to look over your wounds. If you're ready to move, we'll see to getting you settled in new lodgings."

* * *

Repairs to the rest of the temple could wait. The main doors stood secure once again and the blood and bodies had been removed for proper burial--or cremation, as was the goblin way. Ariella bore no love for her attackers, but her anger and will to do harm ended at death. She saw no reason to insult a foe beyond the grave.

She stood naked in the entrance to the inner sanctum, watching as her acolytes performed rituals of thanks and praise around the statue of Aphrodite. As with all such rites, the faithful bared their bodies to the goddess in a quiet demonstration of gratitude and joy. Ariella's beauty was second to none, possessed of flowing red hair, a slender, shapely figure and full, pert breasts. She bore a youthful glow that refused to wane as the years passed; she looked to be perhaps halfway through her twenties, though she was more than a decade older. Aphrodite granted health and beauty to her devotees, and the faithful celebrated her in turn by exercising those blessings in her honor.

Men fantasized about events within the temple. Not a season passed without some foolish man caught trying to slip inside. On the one hand, Ariella couldn't blame them; the salacious tales shared in taverns were not far from the truth. Even after all these years of service Ariella was still easily aroused by the sort of worship that occurred beyond the public eye. Even now her warm body trembled.

Yet few men carried with them the proper reverence for the goddess and her dominion. They succumbed to lust, but did not respect it. Not all men were so shallow; some other temples housed men as servants and even priests, but Ariella's temple was not so fortunate. The goddess refused to lower her standards. Ariella considered the failings of her male petitioners a shame, but devotion to Aphrodite had to be for Aphrodite, and not for her rewards.

Today marked Zenobia's first service as the honored avatar of the goddess. Now a month past her twentieth birthday, the lithe and slender brunette had completed all of the necessary services to take her place as a full priestess. Ariella could not help but smile whenever she looked at her young apprentice; shyness was not a common trait among Aphrodite's servants, but Zenobia never quite overcame hers. She pushed out of her shell and took her place among the others as an act of both faith and desire.

Ariella admired her courage. She also appreciated the special twist that Zenobia's shyness put on her sexuality. Her hesitation often increased the desire of her partners.

Zenobia reclined naked on the altar, cradled in the embrace of another nude acolyte with her arms and legs spread wide for her sisters among the faith. She had spent much of the night previous in secluded meditation. Her morning consisted of ritual bathing and grooming. For all her natural beauty, serving as the mortal intermediary for Aphrodite required special care and preparation.

Once the ceremony began, however, all the avatar had to do was lay back and accept the worship of the devoted. A proper mindset was important, but the primary role of the avatar in this ritual was to receive love and sexual pleasures for the goddess. Aphrodite welcomed her avatars to enjoy the role.

Blonde and lovely Keaswen sat behind Zenobia to offer her intimate and affectionate support as their sisters in faith saw to the pleasure of Zenobia--and, through her, the goddess. Zenobia draped her arms on the naked backs of two more women, each of them leaning in to kiss and softly knead her breasts. Zenobia's head rolled from side to side against Keaswen's shoulder as the chosen avatar sighed out her pleasures.




Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 01



As the sensations on her breasts built, another priestess moved in to bring the ritual to the next level. Ariella looked on with open lust and appreciation as Merra slid on her hands and knees to prostrate herself between Zenobia's spread legs. The view of Merra's lovely ass offered up a visual pleasure that Ariella fully indulged in. Her gaze lifted from Merra's flesh to the face of their avatar. Zenobia looked down, eyes full of anticipation and her chest heaving with breath as Merra brought her kiss to the wet and hungry lips at her center.

"Oooohhh!" called out Zenobia. Neither woman at her chest slackened in their attention. Keaswen offered sweet caresses to Zenobia's neck and shoulders. Merra focused on her task at hand. Her head tilted only a little, just enough to allow her to gaze up at Zenobia as the young priestess further lost herself to ecstasy.

Outside the walls of the temple, many men spoke of the evils of such acts. Women, many of them claimed, were not to lie with women. Ariella knew better; she knew the will of her goddess. So did any who had the courage to listen. In truth, Aphrodite wanted mortals to enjoy love wherever they found it.

Zenobia sang out the first of what would be many orgasms. Her body would be stretched to its limits, subjected to the attention of each priestess and acolyte in the temple before the ritual was done. The goddess would see to her in that time, ensuring that Zenobia would know nothing but pleasure. Zenobia would never forget the experience.

Ariella never forgot any of her services as avatar. She had been blessed with the sacred duty countless times over the years, and been overwhelmed with gratitude every time. Her dreams often consisted of nothing but clear, consuming memories of such services.

Her hand drifted to the moistening flesh between her own legs as she watched. Aphrodite fully approved of that, too.

"Ariella," beckoned a soft voice. The high priestess dropped her hand back to her side, not at all out of shame but rather to end the distraction. She turned to find Cinna standing before her, still clad in her hooded robes.

"You have news," said Ariella.

The younger priestess nodded. "I do. Your rescuer from last night has awakened." Her eyes roamed Ariella's body with undisguised hunger and appreciation. Within the temple of Aphrodite, such open desire was accepted as flattery.

"He saved more than just my life," Ariella smiled.

"Indeed," conceded Cinna. "His name is Davos. As his clothing indicated, he is a sailor. His ship departed while he recovered, without warning."

"Will he stay in the city?"

"For a short time, at least," Cinna nodded. "Edward, steward to the king, has seen to his lodgings and requested that he stay until the queen and king see him."

"That is what I expected," Ariella sighed. "Regardless. You've seen him. Tell me: what do you think?" She waited for an answer, but within a heartbeat knew Cinna's intentions. "Oh, don't tease me," she urged. "Out with it."

"I believe he carries the favor of Aphrodite already," Cinna said with a quiet smile.

Despite herself, Ariella felt surprised. She had considered such a thing might happen, and even half-convinced herself that it might be likely, but to hear her suspicions confirmed... "Tell me."

"I desired him," Cinna said. "He is handsome enough in his own right, though not extraordinarily beautiful. He has a young sailor's body: tanned, fit, lean. His words were kind and respectful. He bears none of the disdain for women shown in other lands. I enjoyed his voice. But I felt lust beyond that," she admitted, nodding to herself thoughtfully. "He possesses an appeal to him that he does not consciously use." Cinna's eyes flicked over toward Zenobia, who moaned her way through another climax under Merra's relentless attention. "Should he become conscious of Aphrodite's favor, I expect he could be devastating."

"And the rest?" asked Ariella, openly intrigued.

"He seems bright, and earnest. I felt compassion and humility. I heard his story, though not many details. He thought he might die, and decided to die for a worthy cause. So he came to the temple during the battle."

Ariella gave a slow nod. "He came to defend Aphrodite."

"Yes." Cinna let it hang for a moment. "He has no wife, nor a lover." Her grin became wide as she watched Ariella's eyes.

"Ooooh please more," pleaded Zenobia. "More!"

The high priestess could not help but smile. This news inflamed her passions as much as the ritual, leaving her all the more needful. She had no reason to hold back. Rank had its privileges. "Come," Ariella said, and turned to join the ritual as Cinna disrobed behind her.

Ariella's hands slid over Merra's ass and her back, caressing her lovingly while silently instructing her to move aside. She heard a whimper from Zenobia as Merra complied, and a further wordless plea as Ariella guided both of the acolytes away from her breasts.

Zenobia's eyes fluttered open to see the high priestess loom over her on hands and knees. "Worship me," Zenobia beckoned softly.

Ariella chuckled. The younger priestess spoke with the words of the goddess, but the voice was still her own. She approved of the way Zenobia threw herself into the role. "As you wish," Ariella said before her lips closed on Zenobia's mouth in a deep, indulgent kiss.

Keaswen pulled away, guiding Zenobia onto her back as the high priestess claimed her right to make love to the avatar personally. Zenobia sighed with pleasure when Ariella's hand came between her very wet legs, stroking her labia and coating her fingers in preparation for further intimacy. Their kiss never broke; Zenobia and Ariella slid together, nude and needful, caressing one another with their whole bodies. Zenobia let out a noise of surrender as Ariella's fingers slipped inside her.

A trembling hand mirrored Ariella's efforts between the redheaded priestess's thighs. She adjusted her knees to widen the space, welcoming such touch. Ariella had made love with Zenobia several times before--indeed, she had been with all the women of the temple--and appreciated how the younger priestess improved every time.

They clung together, probed together and moaned together. Soon, Ariella lost herself to passion just as Zenobia did. Acolytes and priestesses surrounded them both, showering them with kisses and caresses. Though the two women remained fully conscious of every pleasure, they focused purely on one another.

Ariella felt an orgasm build. She broke her kiss with Zenobia. To her amazement, Zenobia hissed into her ear with a confident, sensuous voice that was not her own: "You will soon know greater pleasures in my service," the avatar warned. "Your duty will become clear. Open yourself. You may fear for your heart; put the fear aside and embrace your task."

This time, it was Ariella who moaned in surrender.

"I will be with you," said the avatar, "and you will know joy." 



Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 02



Davos lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was the second real bed he'd been on today, and even more comfortable than the first. Laughter and raised voices drifted into his room from downstairs, but not so loudly as to distract or annoy him. The thick, rich lumber used to build this inn blunted most of the noise. The muffled tones of a bard who'd already earned more than his night's supper kept the remaining noise pleasant enough.

Only two nights from an attack that would have razed their city, he thought, and they are in high spirits once again. It must be nice to be rich.

He let out a sigh. That was unfair. Though the patrons of the inn were clearly of wealthier means than most in the city--Edward had insisted that Davos stay at the finest inn Loewen had to offer--Davos could not know how much these people had lost in the siege. Perhaps they had all lost friends and loved ones, and the high spirits served to push back the darkness of grief and fear. Perhaps this was just how Loewen dealt with tragedy, and he'd find the same attitudes in the less elegant inns if he cared to go out and compare.

Regardless, he didn't get up off the soft bed. He just looked up at the ceiling.

Four years at sea. Terrifying storms, tedious days, the same old food night after night, laughable pay and muscles sore from simply holding himself upright as the ship rose and crash in the waves. Davos could count the number of nights he'd slept in a bed on land over the course any given year on his fingers and toes. He'd fought pirates, rival crews, goblins on distant isles and even a genuine sea monster or two. It wasn't all bad; there was much to love about the life despite all its hardships. Davos saw more of the world than most people ever dreamed of, he learned valuable skills and had plenty of wild stories to tell.

He didn't feel like telling any stories tonight. The inn was abuzz about his presence. Patrons had argued over who got to buy him dinner, and drinks, and whom he might sit beside. Women cast him come-hither glances--wealthy women wearing wedding rings among them, as well as their unwed daughters--with a frequency he'd never found before. People told him how he had saved their businesses. Their friends. The temples.

Davos could get to like that sort of reception, but just now he couldn't handle being in such a crowd. He excused himself politely, citing a soreness of his injuries that he did not actually feel, and headed upstairs.

The room was his for the next several nights. Unsure as to when the king and queen would see Davos--a thought that the young man still couldn't process--Edward wanted to ensure that Davos wouldn't have to worry about finding a place to stay while he waited. Meals were covered, and indeed several people seemed inclined to pay even further forward for them.

Until today, his belongings consisted of his cutlass, the clothes he wore and the old rags in his small sea chest on the Dolphin. When he was conscripted, there were a handful of silvers in his pockets and a few handfuls more in his chest. Now he had a new coinpurse filled with gold, also courtesy of the king's steward. It didn't make him a rich man, but it was far more than he'd made in all four years as a sailor put together--and that with comfortable lodgings, new clothes and meals paid forward for some time, and random strangers happy to buy him drinks.

He could get used to this sort of living quickly, and that was what scared him. Once it passed, as all things did, would he miss it? Would he be bitter? Would that thought prevent him from enjoying it while it lasted?

The knock at his door drew him from his thoughts. He rose from the bed and walked to the door on bare feet, still dressed in his new loose white shirt and breeches, though his belt hung from a chair across the room. Anyone calling on him at this hour shouldn't expect a man to be fully dressed, should they?

The lovely woman at the door had caught his eye many times that night. She had a decade and more on him, to be sure. She must have been a wicked beauty as a young woman. Time had softened her features without diminishing them in any way. Her light blue eyes and white-blonde locks complimented a smile that was equally gentle and confident. "Forgive me if I'm disturbing you, sir," said the tavern maid, "but my shift is over for the night, and I thought to check on the room and see if you wanted anything before it got too late."

Her tones and her smile charmed him immediately. She didn't come off as a humble maid. He liked that. "No, everything's fine, thank you," Davos replied. "Everything here is... lovely," he said, his eyes taking in the shape of her. From the glimmer in her eye, she caught the double-meaning in his answer. He hadn't even intended one, but he didn't mind the reaction at all. The thought occurred to him that it might be good to let the innkeeper know that he'd been well-attended; it never hurt to compliment someone's staff. "What's your name, again?"

"Juliana, sir," she replied, nodding a bit rather than bowing. Her eyes never left his.

"I would ask you not to call me 'sir,' though," he smiled back. "I'm a working sort, not that I'm offended or anything. I just don't want to go putting on airs. Call me Davos."

"Mm, afraid the gentry won't like it if you forget your place?" she teased.

"It's less about what they think and more about respect for my peers."

Juliana chuckled. "Well, as a fellow working sort, then, I'll gladly embrace your humble nature, Davos... though you'll forgive me if I slip and call you 'sir' when in the presence of our loftier guests. I wouldn't want them to think of you as part of the common rabble."

"That's considerate of you, thank you," he replied.

"I'd have thought a young man like yourself would stay up later in the taverns. Have you not found the crowd to your liking?" Juliana asked.

Davos shrugged and gestured for her to come inside, as the conversation didn't seem to be drawing to a close. He certainly didn't mind... but as Juliana walked past, treating him to the scent of her perfume and another sight of her figure, Davos wondered when he'd picked up such good manners. He knew instinctively that he should invite her in, that talking in the doorway for more than a moment was rude... but it wasn't as if he'd been trained in the local etiquette.

He also wondered what sort of tavern maid could afford perfume. Then again, this was the nicest tavern in the city, and Juliana had great charm. She probably did quite well on tips alone.

"After everything that's happened to me in the last few days, I feel like I could stand to avoid crowds and adjust a little more quietly," he admitted. "Everyone else has had two days to let things settle. I apparently slept right through that time. I'm not quite up for a big party yet." He paused. "I don't mind the current company, though."

Juliana took the compliment for what it was. "I can understand the need for quieter surroundings, then," she nodded, "though I don't want to intrude."

"Oh, if only I could have more such intrusions," he chuckled.

"I'd hoped as much," she smiled back. "For myself... I'm sure you've already heard it said many times, and will hear it even more, but I wanted to thank you for what you did during the battle. I would have lost loved ones had it gone on any longer. I might have lost everything."

Davos shrugged. "I didn't exactly have a grand plan to save the day."

"Again with the humble corrections," she teased, stepping forward to close the distance between them. He noted the way she looked him up and down with an appraising glance. "I've heard the story from witnesses. Important people come here all the time. Whether you planned it out in advance or not, what you did took quick thinking and courage, and no small amount of prowess."

He just smiled. "Thank you," he said. His eyes met hers. "I can't complain about where that night has landed me, or the company it placed me with."

"More compliments," Juliana observed, "like those I found in your eyes downstairs. I have to admit, I looked forward to this little errand tonight with a bit of hope."

"What sort of hope?" Davos asked. He stepped closer, too, knowing instinctively that he would be welcome in her personal space. Davos wasn't averse to such situations, but he'd never flirted so heavily or so quickly with someone he'd just met. Usually he needed more time to get to know a woman and sense whether his overtures would be gladly received before he dared make any. With Juliana, everything just felt right.

He sensed that she'd made her decisions before she even came up to his room.

"Hope that you would appreciate my company," she answered softly. "Hope that you would perhaps want to banish all that blood and toil with something... life-affirming. Something pleasant."

The prospect sounded as irresistible as her lips and that bare, smooth neck. "I hate to even ask, but--"

"I'm not the sort of company one pays for, no," Juliana replied without the slightest reproach or irritation. "We don't forbid that here in Loewen, but I am not in that line of work. But I don't blame you for asking."

"That's good to know," Davos said. He didn't tell her that he couldn't have turned her down if she'd answered differently. He just kissed her.

She felt exactly the way she looked: soft and alluring, a mix of gentleness and fiery hunger that swept around him with a shameless embrace. The feeling of her breasts against him only stoked his arousal, as did those lips and that tongue that teased and explored his mouth.

Juliana was not shy with her hands. They were under Davos's shirt before he had a chance to catch his breath. She let out a little noise of approval at the feeling of his taut muscles. Her fingernails scraped lightly against his skin, exciting him further.

She pulled away from him, backing toward the bed with a come-hither gaze that he could not ignore. The drawstrings of her bodice were already in his grasp. She kept moving backward, gladly letting the knot unravel and then beckoning to him with a finger once the job was done.

As he stepped up to meet her again, Juliana sat on the bed. She stopped him with her hands on his hips, looked up at him and smiled. Her hands reached under his shirt again, but they explored the waistband of his breeches rather than his flesh. "You should get rid of this shirt," she winked. Davos obeyed, and by the time he had the garment off he found his breeches unlaced and sagging. "Oh," Juliana murmured. "As I'd hoped."

The flesh she found waiting for her there was, of course, erect and stiff. Davos thought for a moment that it seemed more substantial than usual, too, but then her hand stroked him and her breath fell across the head of his cock and such thoughts fled from his mind. All he knew was her touch and the beauty of her face.

Her lips trailed a circle of kisses around his shaft just below the head before her kiss enveloped that sensitive flesh. Davos let out a sigh of appreciation for the wet warmth that brought him into her mouth. Juliana paused only to look up at him with a smile in her eyes before she welcomed more of him into her, bringing as much as she could of his cock into her mouth. Her fingers encircled the base of his shaft, giving him small squeezes and strokes to enhance his bliss since she couldn't take him all the way—which was its own exciting revelation.

He'd been with women before, but only a handful of times. He'd had one or two kiss his cock in a bit of naughty play, but never did anyone lavish such attention and oral pleasure upon him. The longer Juliana carried on, stroking him with both her hand and her mouth, the better the sensations got.

Selfish reactions eventually got the better of him. Davos's hips tentatively pushed forward as his body longed to go deeper into this already amazing pleasure. It didn't bother his partner at all. He felt a little laugh all along his cock, and then felt her free hand grip his ass to let him know he was welcome to express his urges even if Juliana couldn't accommodate them. She continued to suck his cock, and when his hands caressed her shoulders and her hair, she let him know with a single gaze that this, too, was appreciated.

"You will... let me... return the favor... right?" he breathed.

Juliana made a deliberate show of pulling back from him as if to emphasize his length and her enjoyment of it. "Would you like to do so now?" she asked. "We have all night long."

In truth, Davos would have loved nothing more than to let Juliana continue until he'd lost all control, but something compelled him to put that off. "I think I'd like to start this off right," he said.

Juliana sat up straight then, loosening the drawstrings of her bodice. Davos helped her with that and explored her skin with his fingers at the same time, finding every bit of her just as soft and welcoming just as her kiss. Juliana's sexy confidence blended with a compassion and warmth that made him long to please her. Soon, out of her bodice and wrapped in his arms, the two kissed and caressed their way to mutual nudity and excitement.

He took his time with his partner. Juliana deserved a long, indulgent bout of love-making. Davos decided that based on nothing but this sole encounter, but she had already made his night and he wanted to reciprocate. He mapped out her body with his hands, avoiding her breasts and her groin at first both to tease her and to savor the rest of her before moving on. Eventually, those most sensitive and enticing parts of her body were too much to ignore.

The bed offered enough room for Davos to lay Juliana out on her back so he could slip down to lie with his shoulders at her thighs. The older woman watched with eager approval as he stroked and kissed the inner sides of her legs and used the warmth of his breath to tease the short, well-groomed triangle of hair over her lips. Davos kept his cool and moved with deliberate slowness, making the most of her anticipation.

When his lips first touched hers, Juliana sucked in a sharp breath and then released it with shuddering tones of approval. He found the tasted of her appealing enough to keep him going. Davos continued with light, gentle probing with his tongue and his lips, giving him a chance to learn what pleased her. He had never practiced this with a woman before--the few times he'd been with someone, she was either put off by the thought or the tryst simply didn't take such a direction--but Davos picked up on his partner's cues swiftly.

Juliana seemed at once energized and immobilized by the ecstasy of his kiss. She whimpered when his lips or his tongue eased off and gasped when his touch intensified. Davos played with her a while, learning his way around her labia and the rest of her tender flesh. He caught on quickly to the sensitivity of her clit, and before long he focused his attention there with a slow, constant motion of licks.

Out of curiosity, he brushed his finger against and between the lips of her pussy as he licked and kissed. He saw that she liked this, too. His exploration brought him to quick discoveries that eluded many men. Juliana seemed utterly swept away by the pleasures he gave her, which caused Davos further excitement.

He had no idea of the speed and grace with which his skill grew in those long, enjoyable minutes. For all Davos knew, all men picked up on these lessons just as quickly once they gave this a try. What mattered to him was the pleasure he gave his partner and the appreciative, pleading messages in her eyes and her breath. His free hand roamed her body, tracing against her belly, cupping and kneading her breasts and ending with two fingers sucked greedily into her mouth.

Davos continued. He found just the right strokes with his tongue and realized that Juliana loved the brush of his curved finger up against her inner flesh. He kept up a steady pace with both motions and saw Juliana's enjoyment build. He continued this attention in response to her wordless wishes until her panting breath intensified. It seemed as if she might explode--he was familiar with the concept, of course, but he'd never gotten a woman there through this sort of treatment.

Juliana gasped, whined and then crested with a loud moan of blissful relief. Her body throbbed under Davos's touch. He felt her sex tighten around his finger and felt her grow wetter between her legs. Davos wanted to keep her in such a state as long as he could, and stretched the moment out much longer than he realized. He knew when to ease off on his attentions and let her come down from that high, but even that was a ride of pleasure Juliana hardly expected.

When the spasms of climax subsided and she had control of herself once more, Juliana laughed with affection and surprise. "Gods, that was wonderful!" she huffed. "How did you learn to do that?"

"You're my first," Davos confessed, gracefully wiping off his mouth, "at least in this. I've been with a woman before, but..." he shrugged. "Was this unusual?"

Again, Juliana laughed with joy. She reached for him and drew him up to lie against her, which he did gladly. The feel of her naked body against his was a luxury. He felt as if this woman had been made to be loved. "I've enjoyed that particular sort of fun in the past," she told him, "but you... you're good at that."

She favored him with a kiss before he could speak, wrapping her arms around him with heated desire and shameless appreciation. She felt vulnerable in his embrace, which only aroused Davos more. The whole world had fallen away from him and his partner from the moment they got to the bed; to Davos, there was just Juliana and whatever the night would bring.

"I'll be happy to do that for you again," he offered.

Her eyes danced. She clearly liked the sound of that. "Perhaps later," she said, "but now I want something we can share." He felt her hand drift to his hard, erect cock. "I want to experience this."

They laughed together, caressed and groped and wrestled a little until Davos got between her legs. The first brush of his cock against her wet lips brought all of her playful struggles to an immediate halt. It felt too good to tease anymore. Davos slid against her, coating himself with her juices before making his first tentative push. He was so stiff and firm he didn't need a guiding hand; Davos simply drew her legs up around his hips and pushed.

Virtually everything about her seemed to welcome him: her embrace, her eyes, her voice as she moaned and most of all the wet embrace of her pussy around his cock. She drew up her legs around his waist as he slowly penetrated to the base of his tool and stayed there for a moment to savor their union. As he backed out, Juliana seemed to shake, but her legs tightened before he got too far. She all but squeezed him right back into her, and her sex seemed to squeeze his in turn as he invaded her once again.

Within only a few strokes, this coupling became better than any Davos had enjoyed in the past. His partner felt so good at every turn, matched his desires and showed every appreciation for him. Davos's head swam with pleasure as he thrust into her again and again, wanting to bring her to another climax as good as her first.

Once again, his technique and talent grew in leaps and bounds without conscious effort or forethought. Observing his partner's needs came naturally to him, as did a sense of when to be gentle and when to give in to the selfish urge to fuck. When that need got the better of him--and Juliana as well--he took her wrists in his hands, pinned them to the pillow over her head and leaned back a little to allow his hips to slam forward into her in a constant assault of ecstasy.

Juliana surrendered completely to him. Her legs fell away, remaining parted to give him all the access he could want. Soon her breath warned Davos of the climax that approached. He realized he was not so close to satisfaction himself, and so he was all too happy to continue pushing her along. When he fucked her into her wild release of tension and joy, he slowed long enough to savor the moment as he had with their first union. As he had while he pleased her with his mouth earlier, he fell into a lazy but indulgent pace of stimulation to let her come down from that peak, but he didn't want to end it here. He wasn't done.




Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 02



She thanked him with her kisses and her embrace, and with her cooperation in any way she could give... but soon, all she could do was lie back and enjoy. It was all that her partner wanted, anyway. Davos plundered her long through the night, giving her more than a few orgasms along the way and granting her constant bliss in between. When his satisfaction finally arrived, building from a passionate frenzy into a long, throbbing release that seemed to ripple through his whole body, he found it just wasn't enough.

He knew it wasn't ordinary. Davos realized he should need rest, and that this one climax should have left him spent. Instead, while his cock grew slightly sensitive for a time and his pace slowed, his desire did not. He wanted more.

Juliana happily provided.

* * *

She woke him with her mouth in the morning. Davos glanced toward the window--a glass window, not simply a portal with a wooden covering, which gave him a reminder of his plush lodgings--and found the sky glowing with early twilight. It was about as much sensory input as he could handle, though, given the warm and decadent pleasures now lavished on his cock.

Juliana gave a little laugh as he stirred. Her eyes looked up at him with adoration. He noticed immediately that she was already dressed. "I was hoping to taste you before I left," she said, "but with your stamina, I don't think I'll quite get there."

"I'm willing to help as much as I can," Davos joked.

Her hands and light kisses continued to please him, but he knew not to expect much here. The fact that she was dressed and had her hair brushed told him all he needed to know. "I came here last night to thank you for all you did," she said, "but I'm left even more grateful now. You were wonderful last night. That was amazing. I barely slept, but I feel so good I am hardly tired."

"I'm more than willing to share the room with you again tonight if you like."

"I won't be able to take you up on that," Juliana said, "much as I would enjoy it. I have other commitments. Davos, I must ask a favor of you."

"Please do," he said, propping himself up on his elbows.

Juliana sat up. "Would you be willing to keep this to yourself? I don't need anyone getting the idea that staying a night here includes me as a bedmate. Rumors can hurt in more ways than one."

"Of course," he said. "I'll say nothing to anyone."

She nodded. "And could you perhaps... check the hallway before I step out to make sure no one is about?" she asked with a hint of shyness. "If I'm seen leaving your room at this hour, it won't much matter even if you do keep this quiet."

Davos sat up, moved closer to her and kissed her lips. "It's nothing. I understand."

As he stood and swept his breeches off the floor, Juliana added, "I'm not at all worried about my husband so much as the other guests." Davos's eyes went wide and his back stiffened. He looked to her with an expression of awkward shock. The older woman simply shrugged. "He and I have an understanding, but it works best if no one else has cause to talk. If that happens, he has to put on airs of indignation for the sake of appearances."

The cool confidence that had possessed Davos from the moment Juliana walked in now faltered. "I... your hus... I'm sorry, you have an understanding?"

"It isn't as if he never claimed an indulgence or two," she said with a tilt of her head. "He knew I was coming up here last night. He doubtlessly knows why I was not in bed when he turned in. It will be fine." She paused. "Are you troubled?"

"I'm... I'm sorry, I'm just not used to such things."

Juliana stood and stroked his cheek. "It isn't common in this realm, but it's not unheard of, either. I hope I didn't mislead you into thinking I was out for more than a night's pleasure," she said gently. "I love my husband. I'm a very lucky woman. He is as good a husband to me as he is a manager of my inn."

"Uh-huh," Davos said. Then he blinked. "No, no, I didn't... I didn't read more into last night than you wanted, no. I'm grateful."

She smiled. "As I said, I can't be here again tonight... but I would dearly love to share a bed with you when the opportunity arises again." She kissed him lightly on the lips and then nodded toward the door.

Davos wrenched his thoughts back to the present and followed her gaze. Though the revelation still had his mind spinning, he didn't feel like the memory of the night had been spoiled. He felt great.

With the drawstrings of his breeches tied, Davos moved to the door, made sure that Juliana was just out of sight, and opened it up to the hallway to look outside.

Standing right in front of his door was a young woman in white robes, with the hood drawn low enough that all he saw was her smooth chin and blonde locks of her hair. "Good morrow, Davos of Murried," she said in that strangely emotionless, monotone voice of hers.

He didn't quite jump back, but the moment gave him a start. "Um. Hello?" he replied awkwardly. Her name jumped into his head. "Cinna?"

He thought he saw a smile, but she bowed before he could be sure. "Yes," she answered. "I am glad to be remembered." Her tone didn't exactly convey cheer, but it didn't sound sarcastic, either. She was incredibly hard to read.

"You wouldn't be easy to forget."

"Am I disturbing you?" she asked.

"No, but I--how long have you been here?"

"Not long at all," she said. "I received portents telling me when to arrive, and why. Is your companion still present?" she asked as if already knowing the answer.

"My... I'm sorry?" Davos blinked, his mind reaching for a dodge. He pointedly did not glance behind the door to Juliana.

"You were not alone last night," Cinna explained. "I could provide some cover for her departure. You have my word as an acolyte of Aphrodite that I will not speak of it. The goddess has entrusted me with this."

Only then did Davos glance to Juliana. The older woman pursed her lips in resignation but then stepped out of hiding with grace and dignity. Cinna looked to her and said, "Good lady, I appear to be a bit disoriented. Your inn is larger than any I have been at before. Would you show me to the stairs?"

"Of course," Juliana nodded. She spared Davos one last flirtatious glance before she walked out with Cinna. Davos leaned out of the doorway and saw the two chatting together quietly as they headed down the hallway, then around the corner to the stairs. Cinna offered her thanks one last time to Juliana before the older woman stepped out of sight. As they parted, another door opened near the stairs and a man stepped out. He clearly saw their passing and heard them speak, but took no special note of it.

Cinna then returned to Davos's door. "Davos of Murried," she began evenly, "I am to invite you to the Temple of Aphrodite. The high priestess wishes to speak with you. She wishes to convey her thanks personally for all that you have done, and also to speak with you about your future. I believe you will find the meeting greatly rewarding."

"That's... very kind of her," he said, "and you. I'm sorry I am not properly dressed to receive you."

Cinna offered a brief smile. "I am not."

Her reply brought Davos's thoughts to a halt. The smile vanished before he could be certain he'd seen it. "She wants to see me now?"

"Soon, but it need not be immediate. If you have prior plans for the day, the sun will rise again tomorrow. However, I believe that sooner is better, both for her and for you."

"No, today is fine. I should probably clean myself up before going to your temple," he said. "Have you eaten? I've only just woken up, myself."

"You will have to bathe at the temple before you see the high priestess, regardless," explained Cinna. "We would be happy to provide a meal. I do not say this to rush you out," she added, her tones still even and almost emotionless, "but rather to ease your concerns."

"That's... kind of you," he nodded. Davos glanced over to his shirt and boots by the foot of the bed. "I suppose I'll be forgiven if I'm not quite dressed for a formal occasion?"

Again, Cinna almost smiled. "I don't believe you need concern yourself with clothing for long, no."

* * *

Breakfast was a simple matter: breads, fruits and a couple of cheeses on a tray. The matter of bathing and grooming would have been simple enough, too... but for the obvious importance placed upon it by the temple's builders and its inhabitants. Davos found himself in a room built around a bath that sank right into the floor of marble tiles. Heated stones in baskets at the corners of the tub kept the water warm. Davos wondered if the tub was filled through pipes or magic. Both options seemed equally extravagant and equally plausible.

Curtains offered some degree of privacy, while rows of candles provided plenty of light. Davos scrubbed himself with washcloths and even managed to get a comb through his scraggly hair once it was washed. Given the oils and other implements, he suspected that bathing was something the acolytes did to relax. Knowing that he would speak with the high priestess herself made that a little unlikely. For all the words and gestures from Cinna and the other robed, hooded acolytes that spoke of hospitality, Davos felt like an intruder.

"Davos," came Cinna's voice from behind the curtains, "I have some clothing that I believe will fit you. May I enter?"

The request gave him pause. Davos immediately wondered why she didn't just tell him the clothes would be on the other side of the curtains. It wasn't as if the floor was dirty. The whole temple seemed immaculate. He suspected the dirtiest things in the building were the clothes he wore when he walked in.

Men and women in Davos's hometown observed a fair degree of modesty. The incidental sight of a naked person scandalized no one, but such indecencies were at least avoided in good faith. Yet Davos remembered Cinna's hints of mirth and the fleeting smiles he caught at the inn. Perhaps he felt secure or even a little brave after his night with Juliana, but he felt a little bit bolder than usual.

"Yes," said Davos. He sat upright in the sunken bath. With its clear water and the light of so many candles, only so much of him would be obscured.

Cinna pushed up one side of the curtain to enter. Her hood remained low. Davos strongly suspected that she had a pretty face under there, but he couldn't see more than her chin and her mouth. The acolyte came in with folded fabric and a coiled leather belt, which she put on a table beside the towels. "I believe these will fit well enough," she said. "If nothing else, they will likely be comfortable. They are yours to keep if you like them."

"Thank you," he replied.

Cinna merely bowed her head a bit, and lingered there for a moment before she turned to leave.

"Cinna?"

"Yes?" she asked, turning again.

"Are we alone?"

"The other acolytes tend to other duties for the moment, yes."

"Have you been watching me bathe?"

She paused. "Pleasantly, Davos," answered Cinna, her tones still measured and even as always.

Davos felt brave again--and playful. He took a risk, hoping he had read the mysterious woman's interest correctly. "I'm about finished," he said. "You don't have to leave if you don't want to. I won't tell anyone," he added with a grin.

Cinna remained where she stood. "The goddess values discretion."

He wondered if that was an exit line, but she stayed in the room, facing him. Clearly she could see perfectly well through that hood. Davos smiled a little, gave himself one last rinse and then stood from the bath and walked up the steps toward the towel. He felt Cinna's eyes on him the entire time. Something about having a woman watch him like this while naked--and openly admit to wanting to do so, whether by word or deed--gave him a little thrill. Davos dried off and then put on the loose pants and shirt, both of them not too far off from his usual preferred cut of clothing but newer and nicer.

"There are lands where pants are considered barbaric," he said as he dressed. "Men wear togas or long tunics or even kilts, but never pants."

"I think I prefer barbarism," Cinna deadpanned.

"Thank you for the clothes."

"Thank you for the indulgence. And the discretion."

Davos couldn't help but smile. "I take it you haven't seen many men?"

"I have seen men naked. Even attractive ones," said Cinna, "but that does not mean I do not enjoy seeing more. You are pleasing to the eyes. Aphrodite is a goddess of beauty, particularly that of women... and men. To appreciate beauty is to appreciate her grace."

"Ah. So it's a matter of philosophy?" he grinned.

"I am an acolyte by choice, not by birth or obligation. I would not be here if I did not find all of the goddess's teachings in line with my own thoughts."

"I would love to hear more about it, and about you. Will I have a chance to get to know you better?" he asked.

"I have duties and responsibilities," said Cinna, "but they do not bind me to the temple at all times. Should you wish to meet with me later, I will make the time. But for now, the high priestess awaits. Please follow me."

Cinna led him from the bath and through the halls of the temple. Again, he was taken by the building's simple, elegant beauty. Its marble walls and high ceilings were lit by simple but elegant candles and lanterns, and while he found paintings, statues and other forms of art, with a range of subjects from lovers to nature, the collection fell far short of being gaudy.

The pair encountered no one as they walked. Cinna had spoken of other acolytes, but so far Davos had yet to meet any.

She brought him to the tall double doors near the main entrance, where he knew the acolytes conducted holy day worship and formal ceremonies. Temples to Aphrodite rarely took in crowds. Individual laypersons might come and go as their needs and their faith dictated—as one of the faithful, Davos had been inside a couple of other temples—but generally that was restricted to the main chamber. Davos knew that few people saw as much of a temple as he saw now.

Cinna led him through the main chamber, up toward the altar and past the statue of Aphrodite that rose above it. She walked to thick silk drapes hanging behind the statue, pulled them aside and knocked on the door beyond it. Davos wondered how many other than the acolytes ever walked where he stood now.

He heard a voice say, "Enter," from behind the door. Cinna pushed the door open and stepped back out of his way. Davos's breath caught. He was quite certain that very few people indeed went where he'd just been invited. A chamber behind the altar and the statue of the goddess had to be a sacred place where only the true servants of the goddess were allowed. Only acolytes and priestesses... and now, apparently, Davos.

"Your reverence is appropriate," said Cinna in a hushed tone, "but you are welcome. Leave your worries behind. The high priestess knows what she does."

With that, she fell silent. Davos swallowed hard and walked inside. Cinna shut the door behind him.

The surroundings were simple enough: more marble walls, more candles in sconces, but the ceiling was a bit lower. The air felt fresh in here despite the absence of any visible window. He found a smaller altar, a wide and shallow golden bowl filled with water upon it and a shelf filled with various bottles, scrolls and jewels. A man could live like a king on the treasures in this room.

He saw the statue of Aphrodite against one wall, even more elegant and beautiful than the one in the main chamber... and the plush bed that lay underneath the marble goddess.

He also saw the high priestess, clad in a thin, sleeveless dress of white silk that clung to her wonderful figure. The center of it plunged down low to reveal more alluring cleavage than any woman would dare show in most of the ports he'd visited. The simple silk cord around her waist ensured that an observer would see the shape of her hips. Slits up the sides revealed the priestess's long, smooth legs. Her golden necklace, earrings and bracelets were small, simple and entirely perfect.

The woman's beauty took his breath away. He could stare at that face and that long, flowing red hair all day long. "Welcome, Davos of Murried," she said. "I am Ariella, high priestess to Aphrodite in Loewen."

Davos nodded, and then paused. "Forgive me," he said, "I don't... I don't know the etiquette for such a sacred place, or this..." He held out his hands in apology. "I don't know whether to bow or kneel or what to call you. I mean no disrespect. The acolyte who accepted my dedications to the goddess in Murried was not one for giving such lessons."

The beauty before him just smiled. "There is nothing to forgive. As Cinna said, your respect and humility is clear in your heart. I believe you can imagine how rare it is for an outsider to be allowed into this space."

From her posture and poise, Davos knew that this woman could treat with the kings and queens of humanity and the elves as an equal. She was perfectly used to her position of authority and leadership. Yet he heard friendly notes in her voice as she spoke to him. She wanted to put him at ease and address him as an equal. Her next words made that plain: "The proper form would be to take to your knees, bow your head on the floor and stretch out your hands. You would address me as Revered One. But you, Davos, must call me Ariella, and you must not kneel or bow. The goddess bids you be at ease. You are as welcome here as a lover."

He blinked. If anything, her words filled him with more awe than he would have felt had he bowed and scraped from the beginning. "Surely I am not that worthy."

Ariella's smile twisted a bit, and she tilted her head in concession of his point. "Well, again, this is the inner sanctuary of a goddess," she said, "and you are but mortal. Yet the goddess knows your heart. You would not be given such a welcome were your reverence or humility in doubt." A glimmer of humor shone in her eye. "I see that you are properly overwhelmed, as it should be. My words are deliberately chosen. We have matters to discuss, and I believe when we are finished, you will have a proper perspective. You are as welcome as a lover, Davos, here in this sacred space and in this temple, now and in the future."

"I am indeed overwhelmed," he said.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I feel somewhat the same?"

He bit back his first incredulous response. Davos's awe remained, but he quickly got control of it. "I would say no, but I wouldn't call the high priestess a liar."

Ariella laughed. "By now you've been told over and over again of how great a deed you accomplished in the battle," she said. "I don't need repeat it. But on a personal level, you saved me from both death and humiliation. You saved my temple and my acolytes, which comprise all of my worldly loves. And you did so through a deliberate choice to put this temple and my goddess before all other concerns. You expected to die that night, and you chose to die for her.

"The goddess watched you, Davos. She knew your heart when you joined the battle, and she knew what you would sacrifice. You became special to her. That is why we must speak. I would have you know the blessings that Aphrodite has bestowed upon you... and, for myself, I would have you know my gratitude."

He blushed and bowed his head, unsure of what to say. When his eyes rose to hers, he said, "You saved my life that night, too."

"Another man might overlook that," she replied. "That you acknowledge my actions speaks well of you. But I think we can agree where the greater weight of debt lies between us, even if only in principle." Ariella gestured to the bed. "Tradition and the will of the goddess dictates what is kept in her sanctuary. Chairs are not on that list, but as we are both fully welcome here we may make ourselves comfortable. Will you sit with me?"




Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 02



"Of course," Davos nodded, and laughed a little as he sat facing her on the edge of the bed. "I'm not sure how a man turns down any request or invitation you make."

"You might be surprised, then," Ariella replied dryly. "Many see little value in what we hold dearest here. The goddess of love does not often win wars or make the rain fall or the crops grow. She does not keep the seas safe, or guide the craftsman's hand, or bring out the sun and moon. It is not Aphrodite's name that is called out during childbirth, by mothers or by those who watch over them. The only souls she guides into the afterlife are those that dedicate themselves to her. Some resent my influence in the city, and see me as little more than a pretty face accorded far too high a place on account of looks alone."

"I can already tell that you are much more than that."

She nodded. "I am irritated by such reactions, but no person is loved by all. Attitudes such as those arise from a number of sources. I do not let it stand in my way, nor do such concerns cost me sleep at night." Ariella let the thought pass without trouble. "I see that you hold much different attitudes."

"Anyone can see the importance of all those other concerns you mentioned," Davos conceded, "but in the end, love is still at least as important as the rest."

"Yet you have no lover in your life," said Ariella. She didn't explain how she knew that, nor did Davos stop to wonder. "I would know more of you, Davos. Why a life at sea? What was life in Murried that you chose to sail away? Or was it your choice at all?"

"My parents wanted me to marry a girl to bring her farm into our family and raise our fortunes. She was a lovely girl, and my parents quite insistent, but... I wasn't in love with her," he explained. "Nor did she love me. We got along, but we could not call it love. I would not allow us to be trapped together to make our parents happy, so my parents cast me out. Hers were much more forgiving," he added, "or that story might have turned out differently.

"I just wanted something more. There was a whole world out there to be seen, and I wanted to see it. Others value peace and quiet and stability, and I don't blame them, but... I felt like I would suffocate there. I didn't want the same life that was handed down to my family and our friends' families. I scouted out ships in the port, found one that did not strike me as unsafe or untrustworthy, and I signed on."

"So you left your family behind?"

"I've been home a couple of times and we've made our peace, but I've always left. It's not the sea that I love so much as the freedom of travel."

"Yet you are lonely," observed the priestess.

"Yes and no," he nodded. "I've always been the independent sort. My mother used to say that my siblings never wanted to go to market or out into the woods alone, but I hardly ever even stopped to say when I was leaving.

"There are times when I'm lonely, yes. I enjoy companionship, but not many of my shipmates have made for good company. I like people. I like to have friends. But most people get tied down, and it becomes a choice of either being tied down with them or moving on... and that's a hard choice.

"I've seen islands and coastlines that I would call paradise, but their beauty is somewhat wasted when you've no one to share it with."

Ariella smiled. "It doesn't sound as if you took to the sea in search of fortune."

"Oh, I like money as well as the next man," Davos laughed, "but if I struck it rich, I don't think I'd put my money into a home."

"A ship of your own, perhaps?"

He shook his head. "Too much responsibility. The captain can't just walk away from his ship. It's every bit as much work as tending a farm, if not more. You might see far more of the world, but in the end the ship is still your home."

"I imagine being tied down to a lover is just as unpalatable, then?"

"No, not at all," Davos answered. "Not if she were to travel with me. As I said, I enjoy people. I enjoy meeting new faces and making new friends... but I don't especially like leaving others behind. It's simply the cost of travel."

The thoughts that occurred to him required a little consideration of the proper words. He'd always been a relatively witty sort, but apparently his short time here in Loewen had encouraged him to work toward eloquence. "On the night of the battle, I chose to come here to defend the ideals of love... but in truth, I wish it wasn't such an abstract matter in my life."

"You made love last night, Davos. No, no one told me; Aphrodite graces her servants with a certain degree of insight," she explained gently. "You had a wonderful night with a woman you did not know beforehand, and while it was fleeting, you felt loved, and for the night you loved your partner in return. I imagine it was beautiful and fulfilling."

Davos pursed his lips. "She asked for discretion. This is twice now that we've been discovered."

"I can see what you have experienced," said Ariella, "but not the details. I don't know who your lover was. Regardless, the secret is safe with me."

"Thank you," he said, taking her at her word. "I could stand to have more such nights."

"Many more?"

Once again, he blushed. "As many as the goddess might grace me with," he admitted.

"That is the most important reason I summoned you here, Davos. You will indeed have many more such nights. More than any other man or woman would believe, if you tried to tell them."

Davos blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Aphrodite has blessed you with her grace," Ariella explained. "I see it in you as plainly as you see me. She wishes to reward you for your service, for your courage and willingness to sacrifice, and for everything of hers that you saved. She is a goddess of beauty, of passion and love--erotic love in particular, though tact and pragmatism keep me from loudly proclaiming that central aspect," she smiled. "Yet you should know. You must know, lest you misinterpret the rewards and the joys to come.

"Davos, let me ask you: have you found yourself feeling braver with women in the past day or so? Have charming words come to you more easily? Do you find that women's eyes linger on you longer than they did before you came here?"

His eyes widened as she spoke. It was all the answer she needed.

"And last night, did you find yourself able to give and enjoy more pleasure than you ever had? Did you feel more potent and virile? Did your partner rise to the occasion of lengthy, passionate lovemaking without fatigue?"

"Yes," he answered quietly.

"And did you both find it easy to part on good terms, with neither longing nor a sense of loss?" Ariella mirrored his nod. "You carry the blessings of the goddess of love, Davos. Aphrodite has rewarded you as only she can. Intimate companionship will be far easier for you to find from now on. She will help you find it when you seek it out, and even when you do not, she may often still guide you to erotic pleasures you do not expect. And though you should not take it for granted or enjoy yourself recklessly, you will find fewer negative details or unwanted attachments."

The thoughts processed in his mind. "Does she--does Aphrodite want anything of me in return?"

"Yes," Ariella nodded again, smiling. "You may occasionally be guided toward matters of Aphrodite's interests. That will likely not bother you, for you already followed her as your patron. For the most part, she wishes you to embrace her rewards and enjoy them, but on occasion you may find yourself... directed toward certain affairs. All you need do is be true to yourself; again, the goddess knows you to be a faithful devotee, or she would not invest you with such a reward.

"There is nothing sinister or manipulative at work. She knows your heart and your needs. The goddess cannot love you herself, lest her full glory end your life. But she can love you through intermediaries. Rites and rituals within the temple serve much the same purpose. Every indulgence can be an act of worship on your part, Davos, if you keep the goddess in your heart.

"Had you a lady love to whom you were committed, I imagine Aphrodite's rewards would be much different, though equally wonderful. But as you say, you wish to enjoy the beauty of the world. You value love, but also your freedom. Aphrodite has honored that, and struck a balance."

Davos's heart pounded. He felt himself growing aroused as she spoke, though the gravity of her statements were as much to blame as the beauty before him. Davos knew in his heart that her every word was completely true. Even if he had trouble digesting it all, the ramifications sank in and excited his body.

"One often hears sagas of heroes who roam the world and love freely, only to leave their paramours behind in search of new adventures," explained Ariella. "Yet one is often left wondering if that hero leaves behind a broken heart, or an unwanted child or sickness or shame. You need concern yourself with none of that, Davos. The goddess wishes you to know her love, on your terms, and not to trouble yourself with a sad aftermath because such things simply will not happen. You will not leave behind children or broken hearts or shattered dreams. Your liasons will not easily or likely be discovered. Your trysts are between you and your partners, and your life and loves a matter for you and for the goddess herself. Enjoy your fortunes, and remember and honor the one who grants them."

The thought took his breath away. He'd never even considered living such a life--even if he could muster up the charm, he worried about exactly the sort of aftermath that Ariella now said would never be a problem. "What if... what if I someday find someone that I want to settle with?" he asked. "What if I find one special woman?"

"Then stay with her," Ariella shrugged. "Aphrodite does not disapprove. But I think you will find, even then, that matters of jealousy and possessive feelings will be quite muted. A blessing such as this is meant to be more than what most men and women find in their lives. Love freely. Embrace your lusts. Take love and lust as an adventure.

"Remember, the goddess appreciates a pure heart, but she is not borne of the strict standards and traditions of any age. Her restrictions are few. She despises rape and views incest as a crime. Yet she has aided many an affair outside the bounds of parental approval, or marriage, or the enmities of kings and queens. Not all of her affairs have been altruistic, either; Aphrodite understands a little selfish lust. There are tales of her having a husband before she came to this world, yet she had so many lovers that it was impossible to keep her infidelity secret. And yet we cherish her still.

"It is not Aphrodite who will dictate your standards, or your sense of right and wrong. She wants you to be loved, and to enjoy her rewards. To be blunt, Davos, you could be quite ruthless and selfish with the charms you wield and never once draw the ire of the goddess." Once more, Ariella tilted her head, watching him curiously. "But I don't think that will happen. You are too kind for that."

Davos shook his head. "This is much to think on," he said, "but to take what you say at face value--and I don't doubt you, but it is much to accept--even if all this comes to pass, I don't see how I could abuse it that way."

"The goddess would not see it as abuse," Ariella shrugged. "She can be a bit naughty, as it were. But if you are true to yourself as well as to her, I doubt you will have many regrets. It is one of the reasons I wished to speak with you," she added softly. "Cinna read kindness and humility in you, and I see it, too. Another man might grow arrogant knowing he had such gifts. I don't think that will be the case for you... and so I thought it best to tell you, explicitly, lest you mistake the blessings of Aphrodite for blind luck or something sinister."

"Thank you," he said. "Last night seemed like such a stroke of luck, but if it happened with frequency, I would have wondered, yes. Do you know how this works?" he asked curiously. "Will I know... will I know when it happens? I'm not even sure what questions to ask."

"Ask anything at all," the priestess assured him. "You would not find anyone else with these answers. I am her trusted servant, and I am the one with whom she shared her intent. And I am somewhat similarly blessed," Ariella conceded, "though my blessings do not play out as yours shall.

"As to your first questions, you will likely not feel anything different at all other than a greater urge to indulge. There is no glow of magic or recognizable portent. Your charms are already developing, and your visage is deeply appealing; you may see no difference in the mirror, but I can promise you that I see an exceptionally attractive man before me."

He did not blush this time, but it was a near thing. "I don't know if I've ever seen anyone as beautiful as you," Davos replied.

"Even the most beautiful people often doubt their appearance, or think themselves ugly or that those who compliment them are misguided. There is power in knowing that one is, in fact, greatly attractive." Her grin turned soft, and her voice dropped a little further. "Not every woman will find you so... but most will. I think you'll know it when it happens."

Davos's eyebrow rose. A grin played at his lips. "Like now?" he asked, leaning in closer.

"What makes you think so?" she asked, but didn't move away.

"Your tone," he said. "Your smile. The way you lean forward and touch your neck. It's no sure thing, but I've felt a tension build through our conversation."

"A moment ago you were overwhelmed," she reminded him coyly.

"I'm still overwhelmed," he nodded, but he gave no outward sign of it.

"You're aroused," she corrected with a cool, playful rise of her eyebrow. She didn't need to look to his groin to know.

"After everything you've just told me, it would be hard not to become aroused, don't you think?" He shifted closer to her, and she did not move away. "If I'm wrong, I'll apologize, but I believe I am on the right track."

"Others have thought so, and been wrong."

"I imagine you have a long trail of disappointed suitors."

"Dozens more with every passing year," she admitted. "Brave and fine men, many of them. Confident, and not without reason. But not what I want."

"Then I'll try not to join them."

"Would you have been this bold four days ago?" Ariella asked. Her eyes followed his fingers as they reached out to touch her flowing red hair.

"Not with a high priestess of any god or goddess, no," Davos admitted evenly.

"Then why now? Because I've told you that you are attractive? There is a difference between appreciating the grace of the goddess and being susceptible to it."

Davos nodded. "I think both are at play here."

"Ask yourself why you know that," she said as he drew closer.

His advance halted teasingly. He could feel her breath on his cheek. The heaviness of that breath supported his instincts, but her choice of words confirmed them. She did not ask him why he felt certain, but why he knew. "I'm not sure I have an answer for you," he whispered. "I just know."

"Then you know how it feels when the grace of the goddess takes hold," she smiled, close enough that he felt her cheek against his as her lips moved. "You do not have to fumble through impressions and mixed messages as ordinary people do. Not anymore. Now you know."

Davos smiled, too, but only until he turned his head to meet hers in a soft, longing kiss. He would willingly have drowned in those lips. The feeling of her body against his as she slipped into his arms was as nothing he'd ever known; even after the passion he'd experienced last night, Ariella amazed him. He knew instantly what she meant by sharing the grace of Aphrodite, as the mere caress of her fingers along his arms and his shoulders pleased him as much as the directly carnal touches of other women. The taste of her kiss thrilled him.

He knew, as surely as he knew that she wanted this, that she was equally aroused.

"You are a good man, Davos of Murried," she told him softly. "I know that much of you for certain. As I said before, you saved my life and all that I hold dearest in this world. You are kind, humble and exquisitely attractive. And above all, you and I come together here in this holy space as two favored and loved by my goddess." Her eyes glimmered as she looked up into his for only a moment. "I could have any man or woman in the kingdom, most with little effort... yet I desire you as much as I have ever wanted anyone or anything. I want every intimacy with you."

The confession hung in the air until the space between them closed in another kiss. Davos ran his hands over her shoulders, knowing his touch affected her the same way hers excited him. "Is it hubris to lie in this bed?" he breathed against her ear as his hand drifted down to her breast.

"No," she whispered back, and then gasped as he gently cupped and kneaded her flesh. "Remember... we are as welcome here as... as lovers." The sensual pleasures of his touch on her breast and the stroke of his fingers on the back of her neck had her head swimming. "It is a sacred privilege... and should be honored... and accepted."

Her hands untied the knotted leather at the rings of his belt and let it fall to the floor. Ariella's body writhed at his touch, flowing this way and that in his embrace to offer as much of herself as she could. She panted when his lips came to her neck and kissed her flesh hungrily.

Davos's confidence grew as quickly as his desire. He had indeed changed. As she suggested, he would not have approached her so surely a week ago. He might have made his best and bravest effort had he thought her interested, but a week ago he almost certainly would never have gotten close enough to try. Nor did he blame her for that; she had responsibilities and concerns he did not yet know. But now the high priestess of Aphrodite melted in his arms and wordlessly begged him for more... and he knew, without even considering it, that he could deliver all she wanted.

It was all he wanted to do, too.

They kissed and clung to one another, heightening need and appreciation propelling their movements. Ariella did not wait for Davos to take the next step. She pulled the shirt from his shoulders with a sudden fierceness and all but shoved him onto his back on the bed before straddling his hips.

Her hands ran over his chest and his tight stomach. "A sailor's muscles," she noted with open lust. "Your body is lean and strong. Tanned by the sun. But your hands are much softer now than they should be, aren't they?" Her hips gyrated to grind her crotch against his, leaving her gasping with pleasure. "Ah," she whimpered softly. "This is... ah... ah."

Davos's hands slid up her arms and over her shoulders. He took the fabric of her dress in his fingers and slipped it down, watching in wonder as her lovely breasts were revealed to him for the first time. The trembling breath of his partner gave her every approval. She enjoyed the rapture on his face almost as much as the feeling of his body underneath hers. Ariella gracefully rose on her knees, allowing him to pull her dress the rest of the way down.

"We have been dressed for far too long," she told him solemnly. With the fabric down past her thighs, she lifted and swung one beautiful leg away, then brought it back to his side and did the same with the other. She sighed happily at the sensation of her partner's hands on her naked hips and ass, and then slid down against him to grip the hem of his pants in her hands and pull it down with deliberate slowness. Her eyes lit up at the sights it revealed; again, she did nothing to disguise her lust.

He understood why. Lust was sacred here.

Ariella kissed and caressed her way back up his naked legs, but as her fingers moved in on his groin, Davos gently took her wrists. "Come up here," he said. "I want to taste you."




Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 03



One could not technically call it meditation, given her attentiveness to the muffled noises floating out of the innermost shrine. Cinna sat cross-legged outside the curtains and the door to the sacred space, assuming the posture and serenity of a meditative effort. She remained in place for hours. At a glance, no one would have suspected otherwise, and in fact she felt calm and peaceful. She also felt pleased, and more than a little aroused.

The moans and whimpers of the high priestess were music to her ears. Ariella had a way of reducing all of her partners to helpless wrecks. Cinna thought—lovingly—that it was about time her mentor had a taste of her own medicine.

The acolyte hoped she might experience such a treatment, too.

Footsteps approaching from the other side of the main chamber pulled her from her reverie. Cinna's head lifted, just barely, to greet Zenobia as the other acolyte's sandaled feet brought her to a halt before her. The younger acolyte had not run, but a sense of urgency was plain in the pretty brunette's expression. "Prince Alaric is at the entrance," she announced softly.

"He is not to enter," said Cinna.

"He understands," nodded Zenobia. "The prince did not come alone. There are a pair of Companions with him, and one and two of the royal servants."

"Then we can expect some semblance of diplomacy from him this time," Cinna frowned as she rose. "Your hood, Zenobia," she reminded gently.

Zenobia blinked and then blushed, tugging the hood of her robes further down her forehead to cover the eyes. Strictly speaking, the hoods were not entirely necessary or required, but they offered a measure of distance between the acolytes and the laypeople of the city. An acolyte could pursue lovers all she wanted in her free time, but Zenobia's duties of the day made her a face of the temple and the goddess, and not her own personal interests.

The matter did not lead to further reproach. Among the comforts and rewards of service to the goddess was an almost palpable affection shared by those who lived and served in the temples. Romance, intimacy and passion rose and fell like the tides within Aphrodite's temples. Even at their lowest ebb that context of frequent intimacy colored all matters between them. The only limit seemed to be that of the individual priest or acolyte's natural attractions... though when it came to her acolytes and priesthood, the goddess seemed to generally select those attracted to both sexes.

The younger acolyte walked beside Cinna, though deliberately falling a step behind. "No one has ever told me of the prince's offenses," she said quietly. "I know that he is unwanted here, and that he has laid insult, but not the details."

"Alaric suffers from common delusions and failings of ego," Cinna explained in flat, matter-of-fact tones. She walked with purpose, but did not hurry. "That we have not told you of his 'highness' should tell you how much thought and attention he deserves. Suffice it to say that he takes us all for whores—and he thinks whores are beneath him. Neither of these opinions endear him to the goddess or her servants.

"He has petitioned the temple more than once, seeking to experience the sacred rites and to learn the arts, always offering some flimsy reasoning for his requests. Each time, we have found him without a shred of humility or honesty or piety. He seeks only a night's pleasure, and thinks his royal blood and wealth should earn him special consideration. Naturally, he has grown frustrated, and has difficulty keeping his resentment in check. As with all petitions, we keep his secret," she added meaningfully.

"He also longs for Ariella," Cinna frowned, "but only in the basest manner. She would at best be a pretty trinket on his arm. He seems to believe this would be an honor."

Zenobia blinked soberly. "Such a shame," she said. "He has a pleasant body."

"You may find grander bodies of humbler origins," predicted Cinna. "None would blame you or criticize if you wanted to give the prince a chance, but not one of the other acolytes has seen fit despite his physical appeal."

"No," Zenobia replied, "I hear your warnings. If a man does not want to give as much as he receives, I think he is a waste of my time... sacred rites or no."

She didn't see the faint smile of approval on Cinna's lips. "I will do the talking with the prince. Thank you for summoning me." Their steps and their conversation carried them to the foyer of the temple, and then to the grand doors beyond. While those doors were closed, a simpler side entrance behind the tall marble columns of the entrance allowed for subtler exit and entry. Cinna moved to that smaller door and stepped outside into bright sunlight.

Repairs to the Plaza of the Divines would take months to complete, but many were already underway. Across Cinna's field of vision, she could see stonecutters taking measurements for broken blocks that had to be replaced and other workers carving out the most damaged pieces of the walkways. Burned and withered plants had mostly been cleared away. She saw a horse-drawn cart loaded with new greenery waiting to be settled into its new homes.

Across the Plaza, clerics of the god Frey performed their work in front of the ruins of their burnt-out temple for a flock of farmers and other supplicants while workers hauled away wreckage. Frey's temple received the most attention of all the aspects of the Plaza. Cinna couldn't argue with that, even knowing that Aphrodite's temple would not have received as much attention had their fortunes been reversed. The world needed love, but people needed to eat. The god of the harvest had to be honored.

The Temple of Aphrodite gave generously to the cause of rebuilding Frey's longhouse. Aphrodite's servants in the city had given generously to other shrines as well. The shrine to Athena might well be rebuilt largely through that support.

Unfortunately, Cinna's duty here was not to survey the reconstruction, but instead to attend to the least interesting matter present in the Plaza. She'd have preferred to haul out broken bricks with the workers.

The visitors waited on the steps of the temple: four of his Companions, two men and two women in a mixture of chain mail and leather, along with an attendant in fine clothes and a long coat that marked him as one of the royal household servants, and Alaric himself.

"Your highness," she said with her clear, deliberately flat voice as she bowed, "you grace us with your visit. How may I help you?"

He wore no shining armor today, but rather something like casual finery: a silk black shirt under a fine leather vest, with dark breeches and high boots. Naturally, it was all festooned with gold and silver studs, embroidery and jewelry. His broad and feathered felt hat could shelter the egos of any three ordinary men. Prince Alaric inclined his head ever so slightly in response to her bow. "I am on the town today," he declared. "I thought to look in on the... hero of our recent battle. I am told that Davos came to the temple this morning with one of the acolytes. Is he still here?"

"He is, your highness," Cinna confirmed.

"Fetch him for me," said the prince. "I much desire to speak with him."

"My lord prince, I beg your forgiveness," Cinna replied, though her flat tone carried no semblance of begging, "but the high priestess meets now with him in private. It is forbidden for anyone to interrupt."

Alaric's brow furrowed. "Indeed," he frowned. "This Davos is one of the faithful of Aphrodite?"

"His reverence and devotion has been ascertained," Cinna nodded deeply. "Of all the gods and goddesses, Davos of Murried holds Aphrodite most dear. He and the high priestess had much to discuss. She guides him in worship as we speak."

"Worship," Alaric repeated, tactfully keeping the sour tone out of his voice.

"Yes, your highness. I assure you, with all respect that you are due, that Davos is deeply embedded in sacred matters."

* * *

Many folk would think this perverse, thought Davos, but I doubt many men could resist. "Tell me if this hurts," he whispered into her ear from behind Ariella on the bed.

The naked beauty on her hands and knees before him simply gasped and pushed back at his hips and his cock with that wonderful ass. "Take me," she moaned in sincere need. "I want this."

He kept her spread with his hands, slowly pushing up into her tight flesh with his cock as hard as ever—if not more so. The oils slathered on his shaft and down the crack of her ass were almost as arousing as the reality of the act they now committed. No act of lust was forbidden or foul in this space and if done with consent... but as Ariella had said, the presumed taboo that so many others held against this act enhanced the excitement for both of them.

They'd shared over an hour of intimate touching, probing and preparation of her body. Thorough attention to cleanliness had been assured before they even met, but Davos and Ariella saw to every aspect of readiness just the same. Tenderness and reassurance were just as important as naughty desire, though now that the moment was upon them the latter dominated all their other emotions.

Davos penetrated into her warm, tight hole slowly but relentlessly. Ariella let out a low moan and arched her back. He couldn't read anything from that tone--it could come from discomfort, or fear, or from pleasure--but the way her ass pushed back against his intruding cockhead made the surest statement.

"Goddess, yes, please," Ariella groaned as Davos worked his way slowly into her, "let me have all of this man!"

He pushed in another tight, warm inch, loving the constricting feeling on his cock and reveling in the beautiful view. This new intimacy left him feeling intoxicated and powerful. He'd heard before that such acts caused discomfort at first, and sometimes pain and even bleeding, but he and Ariella had been quite careful and now shared only intense pleasure. Perhaps all that lengthy preparation made all the difference, or maybe it was simply the blessing of Aphrodite at work. Maybe it was both.

Regardless, Davos continued his slow and relentless penetration of Ariella's ass to their mutual delight. "Oooh, Davos," Ariella moaned loudly when her ass was fully up against his groin and he'd invaded as deeply as he could, "it's so good."

"Yes," he growled, leaning over her possessively. He couldn't embrace her like he wanted—couldn't seize her breasts and also support himself, not with everything at and below his hips charged with electric ripples of pleasure—but he could still get close to her ear and emphasize their union. "So good."

"Mmhh. You like it?" she all but whined.

"You're amazing," he said, pushing just a bit to experience a little motion. The oils seemed to do the trick, enabling him to move within her without unpleasant friction. In truth, he would not have said her ass was better than her soothing, welcoming sex. He would not be the one to initiate this up in the future—and had not been the first to suggest it now—but none of that meant he wouldn't savor this moment.

He didn't lie. She felt amazing, and the mere reality of this act drove them both wild. Many cultures forbade this as an act of perversion; others spoke of it as if it should shame both partners. Even where it was not stigmatized, it was not spoken of. Yet here they were, engaged and wanting—"More," she said.

Davos withdrew, feeling ever more potent and confident as he saw his length pulling out of her, and then pushed back in once more. "Better?" he asked.

"Oh yes," Ariella replied. "I'm getting used to this quickly. I could get very used to this with you."

Her partner smiled. He would not ask for this in the future, nor did he think it better than other more conventional intimacies... but he would never, ever turn it down, either.

Davos reached for the small bottle of oil and dribbled a little more into the valley of her ass just for good measure, and then increased his tempo ever so slightly to work the oil in and to enjoy their coupling. When he leaned forward again and reached around to her front, bringing well-oiled fingers to the lips of her wet sex, his partner shivered and bucked against him.

Ariella whimpered out something unintelligible. He knew exactly what she meant by it, and so he kept going.

* * *

"Very well," decided Alaric. "A prince should respect the piety of his people."

"Yes," Cinna agreed, flatly and unbidden.

The prince blinked at that. He couldn't tell if she said it to scold him or if it had been completely genuine. Perhaps she didn't realize he had more to say just then. Of all the acolytes in the temple—presuming he could tell them apart, as he rarely remembered their names—this one always seemed the most difficult to deal with. She was also, naturally, the one he had to face most often.

"I understand that Davos has been provided with lodgings at the Singing Lion. It is a fine establishment. I visit there sometimes myself. Would you be so kind as to relay to him that I will be there tonight, should he care to join my Companions and I for a friendly dinner and perhaps a drink or two? I would get to know him before he is thrust into more formal settings with the crown and court all in attendance. It may help him feel more comfort, as well."

"A generous offer," Cinna observed. "His highness is most kind. I shall relay your offer. I do not, however, know how long his business in the temple will keep him. If he cannot join you, shall I send word?"

The thought of it caused the prince some obvious consternation, but he held his reaction down to a brief expression of annoyance that quickly passed. "That would be appreciated, yes," the prince said. "You may go now."

"Humbly, your highness," replied Cinna with another short bow before she went back inside the temple.

The prince spun on his heel to face his entourage. His eyes first went to the man in castle finery close beside him. "You may go relay all that to Edward or my mother or whoever serves between you and the steward," he said irritably. "I trust I have not done anything embarrassing in your eyes?"

The servant put on a good face of deference and apology as he bowed. "Goodness, no, your highness," he said. "The steward merely wanted me to accompany you on this errand in case you needed—"

Alaric's raised hand cut him off. "Spare me," he sighed, "it's already been explained before. I know you are here as a minder. I'm sure I can be trusted to my own devices when the rest of my plans are personal in nature. Or do you need to watch me and my Companions shop and tour the city?"

"I beg your forgiveness, your highness," the man bowed again, "and I will go."

The Companions all stepped closer as the servant scurried off with whatever dignity he could muster. "You came down on him a bit hard, didn't you?" asked one of the women, though with more humor than sympathy.

"Don't start, Terrwyn," Alaric snapped. "The man was sent as a babysitter from my mother or from Edward, nothing more. As if I cannot simply invite a commoner to eat with me without needing supervision."

"Peace, Alaric," said Terrwyn, her gloved hands raised. The leather of her new armor still made tiny crinkling noises as she moved. It was too bad her last set couldn't be salvaged after the battle, but at least it did its job. Terrwyn stood side by side with the prince when the goblins broke and ran—many of them straight through the Companions' line. She had also, pointedly, waited for the prince to declare how many of them he'd killed before claiming a lower and therefore less accurate number. The man's ego had to be handled as delicately as elvish crystal.

"I don't mean to criticize," the warrior continued. "He's simply doing what was asked of him."

"Yes, and he's doing that now, too, thankfully. And I'll ask you to drop it."

"So that's it, then?" piped up Majella. Like Terrwyn, her armor was comprised mostly of leather, though darker and lighter for functional purposes. Where her longtime partner relied on a skilled sword arm and ready shield to cut through their battles, Majella leaned more heavily on speed, stealth and guile. Her delicately pretty face tended to lure men into underestimating her in a head-on fight, too, which suited her just fine. "Dinner and drinks at the Lion this evening? Perhaps we should drop by and warn Thaddeus or Juliana that we'll be there so they'll be ready for us?"

"I'm always up for it," said Geoffrey, clad in chain mail and leather much like Terrwyn's. He slapped Baldwin on the arm. "I'm up for waiting there all night for our new hero friend to turn up."

"We might not be in such a state for actually meeting him by the time he does," snorted Baldwin.

Alaric rolled his eyes. "You may do as you wish, but I'll not waste my time on catering to the caterers," he grumbled. "I have better things to do today." With that, the prince turned and gruffly walked away.

Terrwyn snatched him by the collar and yanked him back. Though the prince gave a grunt of surprise, no one heard it over the racket made by the cart that overturned in front of him in an effort to come to a sudden halt. Bricks and debris tumbled out where the prince had nearly stepped.

"Gods, no!" the driver of the cart shouted too late, but then his fall from the cart had him fully occupied. He tumbled to one side as his load scattered everywhere, but managed to avoid injury. Though startled, the horse realized it could only drag the cart only so far whilst on its side. The animal looked completely unharmed.

The driver looked extra fearful when he recognized the man he'd almost hit. "Your highness! I am so sorry, are you alright?" he blurted.

"You oaf!" Alaric shouted. "Watch where you're going! Or are you too stupid to do such simple work as moving blocks from one end of the street to another?"

Baldwin snickered. Geoffrey managed to keep his laughter in check. All work around the group ceased, with some laborers looking on in shock and others immediately going to the driver's aid. Majella was quickly at his side, too, offering a hand to help him up.

"No harm done," she said, looking the driver over with a nod and then turning to her comrade. "You're all in one piece. So's he," she nodded brightly. "Nothing gets hurt but a cart and a pile of broken bricks, eh?"

Alaric jerked his shirt back into place. He glanced back at Terrwyn, and while his eyes held no reproach, the man plainly wasn't happy. "Peasants," he seethed.

The driver bowed deeply. "I am so sorry, your highness," he repeated.

Alaric stormed off, hardly waiting for the crowd of men and women that had gathered to part. "Make way!" Baldwin shouted loudly, recognizing the prince's mood. He and Geoffrey followed close behind. "Make way!"

Neither of the women rushed off after them. Majella looked up at her tall friend as Terrwyn stepped up to the driver. "You are unhurt? You're sure?" she asked.

"Yes, my lady," he nodded. "Only my pride and... well, my coinpurse now," he added glumly. The look on his face as he stared at his cart spoke to his plight.

"How much does a cart like this cost?" asked Terrwyn. She paid no mind to the rise of Majella's eyebrow in response to her question.

"I paid twenty-five gold for it," lamented the driver.

"It sounds like a fair price," said Terrwyn, pulling off the glove from her right hand, "though I don't know the market well." She took a small emerald ring off of her little finger. "Here. See what you can get for this."

The driver accepted the ring with obvious surprise. "Thank you, my lady! Your generosity will keep food on my children's table!" He looked down at the ring, then glanced at the wreckage and said, "This will help limit my losses, though the day's wages are clearly not—"

"Don't push it," Majella said, rolling her eyes. She tugged Terrwyn's arm to get the warrior moving along with her to follow the prince and the other Companions. "One could get much more for that ring than a workman's cart," she noted as they walked.




Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 03



"The accident wasn't his fault," Terrwyn frowned. "If anyone should have apologized back there, it was His Foppishness. He's fortunate Alaric didn't strike him or have him locked up. The prince must be on his best behavior indeed."

"Well, he's been shown up by a stranger," Majella shrugged. "Doubtless he knows that acting like an immature prig won't make for a good contrast."

"I knew he'd be irritable enough just having to come here. He hates the Plaza. I've no doubt that his minder was sent along for good reason. Too bad such help cannot be sent along when we're out questing with him." She paused, but inevitably said what was on her mind: "We were better off on our own."

"Terrwyn, we were not," Majella said, taking her friend's arm again. Standing in the street as they were, she had to lower her voice, though she saw no one close enough to eavesdrop. "Look, Alaric is a jerk and the others aren't much better, but they are competent enough in a fight. We've both seen our skills grow as a part of this group. Our skills, our names and our purses."

"Yes, but how long do we stay?" Terrwyn asked. "The Companions are down a wizard now, which was always the greatest reason to join them. But until another wizard is found, I doubt the prince will set foot beyond the royal hunting grounds. No treasure in the world would tempt him enough. You know how much he relied upon Vorhast for aid and advice."

"You'd think Alaric would have done a better job of protecting him in the last battle," Majella nodded glumly. She shook the thought away. "Terrwyn, we'll know our time to walk away when we see it. For now, let's just carry on and take what comfort we can of our fortunes. This is still a cushy spot, isn't it? You can't tell me you don't like having a regular stipend of pay and royal connections to go with the occasional adventure. We'll strike out on our own soon enough.

"Besides," she added, "we joined the Companions, not the Friends. We don't have to like the bastard."

Terrwyn laughed and threw an arm around Majella's shoulders. "Fair enough," she said, "though sooner or later we'll need to go about finding some actual friends."

* * *

"I've not come undone like that for a man since my first," Ariella breathed. She lay in Davos's arms, staring up at the ceiling and glad for his still-roaming hands. The two could manage no more lovemaking without rest, but after hours of passion and a bit of washing one another, they relaxed into a lingering bout of affectionate touching.

"When was that?" he asked.

Ariella smiled and looked up at him. "Most men don't want to hear about the others that I lie with."

"I can understand that," Davos shrugged a little. "I imagine most men wish they could stay with you forever. I don't blame them. But even after all this, I wouldn't presume to have a claim on your heart."

She shifted, turning to lay facing him with her breasts against his chest and one of his legs between hers. She loved the feeling of him. "I don't want to make more of this than I should, but you already have more of a claim than anyone else. This went beyond ordinary sex, Davos. I feel I've experienced you. I would gladly have you again, anytime... particularly if you respect my boundaries and my duties."

"And your privileges and blessings?" he smiled.

"Yes," she smiled back. "As I said, such are meant to be enjoyed, not denied for the sake of misguided ideals that Aphrodite herself never espoused."

He shook his head. "You were saying? Your first?"

"A temple priest, in the city of Hykara, where I underwent my training and my vows. The faithful of Aphrodite are not trained in their nearest temples. It leaves too many bonds and cultural traditions in the way of devotion to the goddess. I came of age there, and upon adulthood I was initiated. He was skilled and tender, and that night I fell in love with him... but only for that night, much like tonight. And even then, he did not take me to the extremes that you did.

"In truth, I generally prefer women," she said, utterly unafraid to admit it to him. "I'll take any of the acolytes over the men in this city most any day, though occasionally I indulge in a man or two. They usually don't remember that I was their partner. It's important to maintain some distance and mystery," she smiled, "otherwise there would be suitors at the temple doors night and day."

"Will I forget this?"

"No. At least, I hope not," she chuckled. "No mystic effect will cloud your memories, but as for what you remember? That's up to you."

"I imagine I'll remember all of this, then. You've been incredible. This is all beyond my wildest dreams. I know that's a cliché, but it's true."

"You'll become accustomed to this after a few years, but I can't say it ever gets old. I've never grown tired of the beauty of my lovers or the thrills of sex. I look forward to what your future brings, too, and I hope you will accept me as a confidant. You cannot tell others about what Aphrodite has given you, and that may leave you feeling somewhat disconnected. But you can always talk to me."

Davos let out a long, thoughtful breath. "That means a lot," he said, stroking her hair and looking into her eyes. "I've never had a confidant, really. Not since I left home. And knowing all that you've told me, it's... it's good to know that I have someone to talk to. I imagine that'll take some getting used to. Just like all of these blessings you've told me about."

"They are difficult to imagine in the abstract," she nodded. "You'll need to experience Aphrodite's influence at length to truly accept it. She knows this. Your faith is not being tested. Go forth and conquer," she teased, "with my blessing as well as Aphrodite's."

"Oh, in a hurry to get rid of me now that you're done with me?" Davos laughed.

"Hardly. I simply don't want you to limit yourself. Such is not Aphrodite's will."

"I have to admit, I am already intrigued by—"

A knock at the door interrupted him. Ariella's eyebrows rose as she looked to the entrance, then back at Davos. "You are as welcome here as a lover," Ariella told him once again. "Are you ready to embrace what that means?"

He took a deep breath. He didn't know for sure what she might mean, but he knew how he felt about her. "I'm ready to trust you," he said. "Should I get dressed?"

"No. Exactly the opposite." Ariella looked to the doorway again. "Enter," she called, and did not get up from her nude and intimate embrace with Davos. No sheet covered them, nor did any curtain obstruct the bed. Ariella seemed perfectly comfortable with being on display like this.

Davos decided to follow her lead—which essentially meant lying there fully on display with her. When the acolyte walked in, she saw Davos naked on the bed with one arm around the high priestess... and with Ariella's hand fondly but lazily stroking his erect cock.

As always, he couldn't see much of her face above the tip of her nose, but everything about Cinna suggested she didn't bat an eye. "I apologize for the interruption," she said without betraying emotion.

"You would not have come if it were not important," Ariella replied affectionately. Davos still couldn't believe she was steadily working his erection like this while carrying on a conversation with someone else. His body stayed relaxed, but this was a whole new thrill. "What concerns you?"

"Prince Alaric visited in search of Davos," said Cinna. Davos caught the mild but instant frown of distaste on his bedmate's face as the acolyte continued. "I kept him outside on the steps, of course."

"What did you tell him?"

"The truth. That you were engaged in religious matters, and that you were not to be interrupted. Nothing more. Davos, I am asked to invite you to an informal dinner with the prince and his Companions at the Singing Lion tonight. I am also asked to have the prince informed if you will not be in attendance."

"Wow," Davos blinked. "That's not something I expected."

"It is the tactful and politically wise thing for him to do," Ariella observed. She didn't stop with the slow pleasures of her grasp. "The prince is an adventurer, a fighting man and one of the faces of the monarchy. Naturally, he would make friendly overtures, if only for the sake of appearances."

"I get the impression that you aren't fond of the prince," Davos observed.

"The man is an arrogant pig," replied Ariella, just as Cinna said, "He is self-centered and snobbish."

The casual disdain voiced by two women at once for someone so high above Davos's station made him laugh. Loewen hadn't struck him as an oppressive city, but he'd been places where such words against the crown or others of nobility could get one jailed or worse. Even here, a certain degree of respect was shown by all... at least in public. This only added to the impact made by the easy acceptance both women had for the open display of sexuality on the bed. Davos truly was in a place of complete trust.

"Did the prince say anything else?" Ariella asked Cinna.

"Only that Davos would be invited to a formal audience with the court sometime soon, but that is in line with what Edward said. Alaric did not say so openly, but he seemed quite surprised to learn that Davos is one of the faithful of the goddess."

"As I would expect of him," Ariella remarked.

"His Companions held their tongues during our conversation. I cannot say that I blame them."

"Who are the Companions?" asked Davos.

"In this kingdom, an able-bodied prince or princess is expected to seek out the dangers of the land and vanquish them," Ariella explained. "The practice hearkens back to the early days of the kingdom. Alaric's sister, Josta, has long led a portion of the army. She is currently in the east searching out bandits or some such. Alaric seeks to imitate the princes of yore, and thus he has established a circle of allies to aid in his adventures. These are the Companions. Such groups have risen and faded with the maturity and aging of the princes. This is the latest iteration. Some are fine men and women who look to help the kingdom. Others are simply adventurers who know an opportunity for enrichment when they see it.

"The practice leads to mixed results. I tend to concern myself with motivation as much as what they accomplish, but even I would concede that the group has indeed protected people and vanquished some dangers. For all of our distaste for the prince, the man is no dandy."

"Sounds like I'll meet him soon enough," Davos said. "Much as I'd like to stay here with you as long as you'll have me, this doesn't sound like something I should avoid."

"It is not," Ariella shook her head, "and you will of course be welcome back here later. But for now, I would tell you of the prince. I would not have you deal blindly with such as him."

* * *

The street outside the Singing Lion was active enough, given that sunset had only just passed. Loewen was certainly a pleasant place in the summertime. Wind off of the sea mitigated the heat of the sun. Somehow the port city escaped the humidity that often went with such warmth. He'd seen many ports in many places. Not for the first time, he thought that if he ever settled in one place, Loewen would rank highly among his choices.

Then again, he conceded, the warm and intimate welcome he'd received from more than one of the city's women in the last day and a half might have more to do with that judgment than the weather and the pretty trees.

His pace slowed as he reached the other side of the street from the inn. When he'd arrived the night before, he thought the place too fancy and expensive for the likes of him. Now he felt like the building itself suited him just fine—again, a woman may have had more to do with that than anything else—but a whole new level of company at dinner tonight renewed that sense of alienation.

Davos could fight goblins and pirates just fine. He could handle rough seas at night that threatened to drown him along with his ship. He had faced the vast unknown time and again, and found it as appealing as it was daunting.

Social engagements with people of lofty station were not common for him. Captains of ships did not engage him in casual conversation. Noble passengers rarely spoke to common sailors. Now he faced dinner with a prince.

Davos took one last breath to steel himself. Loewen didn't have a tradition of executing people for insulting the crown. At worst, he'd say something stupid and be banished from the city as a result. Or get laughed at, which would be annoying, but he'd endured greater pains than that before.

Loud and raucous conversation drifted through the windows and the door before he stepped inside. Davos thought he heard a fiddler playing, which he thought was a bit too bad. Performers deserved to be listened to, not talked over. As he entered, he found every table in the lower common area of the inn filled. The split between men and women only mildly leaned toward his gender. He saw merchants, artisans and people he took to be gentry by their clothes and grooming.

Toward the center, naturally at the largest table, Davos found the prince and his Companions. The tall, blond, good-looking man stood out in a crowd both for his vigor and the finery of his clothes. His comrades, two women and four men in all, generally dressed in light armor and had weapons at their sides. Davos thought for a brief instant that the prince's adventuring friends might double as bodyguards. That would fit with what Ariella had told him about Alaric and the royal family.

He was spotted almost as soon as he walked in. "Good Davos!" called out Juliana, who had just set down a platter of food at the prince's table. "Our guests have been hoping to meet with you."

Many of the conversations stopped. Others fell into hushed tones. Davos quickly understood why: many of the other guests were here simply in hopes of befriending the prince, or at least in hopes of being perceived as his friends by others.

"Ah," said Alaric as he rose and gestured welcomingly. "There he is. The hero of the hour."

"Surely not, your highness," Davos demurred, trying not to look intimidated by the man's station. Best to treat him just like any other man, he figured, though perhaps extra-politely. "It's been three days. By now this city must have a new hero. Certainly someone's been saved from a fatal accident with a cart or something, right?"

Eyes widened. Smiles faltered—though the grins on the two pretty women among the Companions seemed to twitch briefly with mirth. Alaric seemed to tense up, and then his head tilted slowly. "I'm sorry?" he managed.

"Well, just saying that I shouldn't receive so much attention for so long," Davos shrugged. The innocent look on his face had the benefit of being genuine, but many in attendance didn't realize that. "But I certainly don't mean to sound ungrateful. I'm flattered to meet you, Your Highness. And your friends," he added, looking to the others and nodding."

Alaric drew in and released a long, slow breath. "I see."

"Did I say something offensive? I apologize. I've been in the temple since just after the crack of dawn. I came straight here. Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all," spoke up the smaller of the two women. She leaned forward past Alaric to offer her hand. "I'm Majella. This is Terrwyn, Geoffrey, Baldwin, Romis and Gareth." She shook hands with Davos and glanced once to Alaric before moving out of the way once more. Terrwyn greeted Davos immediately, grasping his wrist rather than his hand like one of the warriors from the northwest. Gareth did the same, and then there were other handshakes and introductions.

It had the effect of moving the conversation past whatever misstep Davos had made. Once he'd met everyone, enough time had passed that revisiting Alaric's apparent irritation would have seemed awkward. Davos glanced to the prince to see his displeasure notably reduced.

"Davos, please, have a seat beside me," said the prince, gesturing to one of the spots beside the head of the table. The prince then sat at the head, and the other Companions quickly followed suit. Davos caught on to the nuance of the moment quickly enough: the Companions did not need to wait for the prince's leave to speak, as Majella had just demonstrated, but they did wait for his highness to be seated first.

By then, Juliana had brought around another tray of drinks. She began passing them out as Alaric asked, "Do you drink ale, Davos?"

"Well, of course, your highness," he nodded readily, "when I can."

"I'm told you're from faraway lands, so I didn't want to presume too much," the prince explained. He caught the slight twitch of Davos's eyebrows and asked, "Is there something you're more accustomed to?"

"Ales and beers are fine, your highness," Davos assured him, "and the drinks at this inn are particularly good." He caught the appreciative wink from Juliana before she moved on, and then the waiting look from Alaric. "They're also common in Murried. It's just not readily available on many ships. We get water after it's been boiled for safety's sake. That, and rum."

Eyebrows went up. Lips spread into smiles. "I'm sure that could be arranged," said Baldwin with a chuckle.

"Oh, I don't want you to feel like I'm challenging you," Davos chuckled, resulting in a roar of laughter. Clearly by trying to back off from it, he'd done just that.

"We'll get to it, then," said Alaric. He picked up his mug of ale. "But first, a toast: to the hero of the Battle of the Plaza." Sound agreement rippled around the table.

Davos nodded, blushed, and once again demurred humbly: "To those brave souls who gave their last that night," he added.

Again, there was a brief twitch and pause at his words. Several of the Companions were struck with a thoughtful look. Alaric seemed as if he couldn't quite come up with his next words. Finally, he kept it simple: "Indeed."

They drank. Davos decided not to pound his first drink. This would clearly be a long night, and he would need to start it out with a full stomach rather than the empty gut he had now.

He noted the sideways looks he got from the women at the other end of the table, who leaned together and shared a brief conversation neither he nor the other men could hear.

"I like him already," murmured Terrwyn.

"Why?" Majella chuckled. "Just because he walked in, slapped Alaric with a smile and then opened his drinking by respecting our honored dead?"

"And he's handsome," Terrwyn confirmed.

"You're so predictable."

"You're already angling for him, too."

"Got another of those little gold rings you're ready to part with?" Majella dared.

"What are we," frowned her warrior friend, "women or twenty year-old boys?"

"You're right," Majella shrugged. "These are matters for mature behavior."

"I have one more ring," said her warrior friend. "Think you can match it?"

"Easily enough. Not that I'll need to."

Terrwyn laughed. "Then you're on."

* * *

He genuinely didn't mean to start a drinking contest with these men. In truth, no one openly suggested it or called anyone out. Yet Davos read the currents early on, so he steered a practical course. He played to his strengths in his choice of drinks. He ate heartily, both at the opening of the dinner and even after, always keeping a bit of solid food close at hand. He drank water, both in front of his company and whenever he excused himself to relieve his bladder.

His subtle but deliberate choices made all the difference as he saw the prince and his Companions—the men, at least—slouch and slur their words much more than he did as the night wore on. Perhaps he was wrong, and perhaps he, too, was a sloppy drunk without realizing it. This wouldn't be the first time. But he felt fairly stable. It was all the assurance he could expect.




Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 03



The only one he couldn't get a good read on was the prince himself. After the first hour or so of conversation, shared stories and laughter, Alaric said less and less. His laughter did not come easily, and soon it hardly came at all. Geoffrey hardly laughed, either, but that was because he had his head down on the table and occasionally snored, much to the amusement of the other Companions.

The ladies, at least, seemed readily amused by Davos, and remained engaged in discussion throughout the night.

"No, I'm serious," Davos said, laughing despite his words. He held his hands up to help him describe an unusual sight. "The hobgoblins on these islands wear these huge wooden masks, all curved at the front and painted and decorated. Big red monster eyes, white teeth, all of it exaggerated and frightening as hell if you're drunk enough."

"I'm intrigued by this," said Terrwyn. She and Majella had at least shown the sense not to get into the undeclared rum contest with the men, opting instead to stick with ale. "These hobgoblins don't think they're ugly enough? Do you think that's it?"

"I don't know," Davos shrugged. "We didn't stick around to ask them."

"What's this, then?" grumbled Baldwin. "You ran from them?"

"Well, more or less," said the sailor. "In a way. Of a fashion. Yes." He let out a little burp, excused himself and added, "We were all besotted at the time. No one was in any shape for a fight. And to be fair, it is their island. If they want to live there and not bother anyone or raid any settlements, what's the quarrel?"

"The quarrel is that they're hobgoblins!" put in Gareth.

"He has you there," conceded Majella.

"I've never run from a hobgoblin in my life," declared Romis.

"Oh, I've never run from a hobgoblin, either," Davos corrected, "but I'll run from a dozen hobgoblins. Or scramble away quickly and fall down a lot, which admittedly is a more honest telling of what we did."

"Well..." Baldwin considered.

"No," said Gareth. "They're hobgoblins. They should be wiped out." He fumed a bit, his alcohol-soaked mind searching for words. "I cannot call you a coward after the battle in the Plaza, but this island is a stain on your honor!"

Davos blinked and looked around the table. Majella rolled her eyes. Terrwyn frowned. Baldwin and Romis seemed to grin a bit. Alaric just watched.

"You're saying we should go get them? I mean, I can draw a map."

"Excellent!" Gareth nodded. "They must be ended!"

Davos mirrored the big northerner's nod. He reached for a plate of food scraps, overturned the emptied potato skins and flattened them with the palm of his hand. He then used a knife to carve out a small curve at the end of one potato. "Here's the coast of Loewen," Davos explained, and then he put a small dot into the far end of the other half of the potato skin. "There's the island." Then he slammed his elbow on the table with his hand offered up for a warrior-like grasp. "Let's get 'em, Gareth. You and I."

Gareth looked at him with wide eyes as the moment processed. The ladies laughed first, but eventually Gareth had to admit the humor in the offer, too.

"The hour grows late," said Alaric as the laughter subsided. "We should collect our fallen brother and take our leave. I had meant to talk with you about the royal court and put you at ease before finding yourself in audience, Davos, but it seems the telling of stories took precedent."

Even with the buzz in his brain, Davos could detect the veiled reproach. "Oh, I'm sorry," he blinked.

"No matter," the prince grunted as he rose. "Just lean more toward listening than talking and I'm sure you'll be fine. Companions, we should go. Gareth, Romis... pick up Geoffrey there. Innkeeper! We're leaving. The palace will take care of the bill."

Davos stayed in his seat as the others all rose to go. He thought the matter of the bill seemed strange. If the palace stewards were anything like the pursers on ships, it could be weeks before the innkeeper was paid. This had been a lot of quality food and drink, to say nothing of the dutiful service by more people than just Juliana... "It might do to at least leave some sort of tip?" he suggested, and then looked to his own coinpurse.

Terrwyn stopped. "Aye. Alaric, he's got a point."

The prince stopped, stiffened and cast an annoyed glance over his shoulder. "Then take care of it," he said and then continued on his way out.

"I've at least thirty gold on me," Davos frowned thoughtfully, "but I'm not so sure if that's enough? This rum and all the ale and the venison..."

"Gods, no, that's five times what I'd leave for a tip, even for all this," said Majella.

"Yes, but the food..." Davos mumbled. He glanced at the door. Juliana and her husband gave the prince a gushingly polite farewell, for which Davos couldn't blame them in the slightest. It was good for business.

The pinch on Juliana's ass that Baldwin was plainly not welcomed, but she held her tongue. Whatever her understanding with her husband, it clearly didn't stretch to include that man. Davos frowned darkly.

"Listen, don't trouble yourself," Majella told him. "This was in your honor, you should be the last to pay."

"Was it?" he asked. Then he made an apologetic face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say or imply..." he shook his head. "It's not just the drink. I'm a little weary."

Terrwyn smiled. She plunked down a few gold coins on the table. "This is merchants' business. It will be handled. Good night, Davos of Murried. I enjoyed this, and I hope to see you again soon." She offered him a friendly smile that seemed much more genuine than the others he'd seen tonight.

"Ladies," called a familiar voice. They saw the prince at the door. Though the word was polite, the tone stretched the value of such manners. "Are you coming?"

"Aye," said Majella. She gave Terrwyn a nudge. "We'll see you around, Davos," she winked. As the dark-haired woman and her taller comrade walked to the door, now shut again with the prince's exit, she stole a look back across the common room. She had just enough time to see Davos empty his little coinpurse out onto the table. "Aw," she murmured.

Then she was outside in the cool evening air. Across the street, the prince stood with the other Companions. They even had Geoffrey upright again, though listing from side to side. In truth, Majella's head was fairly clear, as was Terrwyn's. They preferred to keep their wits about them, even when among their fighting comrades. It just made sense.

"I don't trust him," declared Alaric in a low voice when the whole group was finally together.

"What's not to trust?" asked Terrwyn.

"That man is no mere sailor. Showing up when he did, running with more luck than the gods would ever invest in one man and now this? Smooth talk and drinking like a dwarf? Veiled insults and tall tales? I don't like it."

"I only saw glimpses of him in the fight," nodded Gareth, "but now that I've a sense of him, he does not quite seem... manly enough to have done all he did."

"Oh, shut up, Gareth," said Terrwyn, "or I'll stuff your 'manly' issues down your throat myself. And you know I will."

"And there!" Alaric snapped his fingers and pointed to the two of them. "He already has us at odds with one another!"

"This is called paranoia, Alaric," remarked Terrwyn.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. We should watch him closely."

Majella's lips tightened. She'd deliberately kept her mouth shut, wanting to see where the prince would take this without any guidance. Now she knew. "And by 'we' you mean me, don't you?"

"Vorhast is dead and buried," said Alaric, "otherwise I would have him use his magic. You are the most skilled at stalking and watching. You could perhaps even get into his room and search his things."

"Didn't he say Edward had to buy him all new things?"

Alaric waved a dismissive hand. "I would trust Edward's word on that, but not this stranger's. Majella, are you with me?"

She tried not to roll her eyes. "I'll stick around and keep an eye on him," she said.

"Excellent. Let us know what you discover. Come, Companions," he beckoned the rest, "it's a walk to the palace, and I at least need to sleep this off."

"Yes, but I'm not tired, not at all," muttered Majella. She gave Terrwyn a reassuring wave before she walked away. They'd all pushed themselves harder than this while adventuring in the wilderness. Majella could handle a sleepless night without much trouble. Still, she'd remember the inconvenience.

"Majella!" hissed Terrwyn.

"What?"

The warrior threw her a wink. "The Companions, not The Friends."

Majella threw back a gesture that was at once rude and friendly before she slipped into the shadows.

* * *

He didn't return to his room right away. Davos remained in the common room for over an hour, wanting to shake off a little of his buzz with food, water and time before he went to bed. He spoke with Juliana and her husband, Thaddeus, about the other times the Companions had been in and the time it took for the palace to clear a large bill. As he suspected, the coins he'd left on the table would help keep their funds balanced. Thaddeus assured him that once the palace paid the bill, he would in turn be glad to reimburse their thoughtful guest.

Juliana's open appreciation and mild affection for Davos did not extend to flirting that night. He found no tension at all between husband and wife. They seemed nicely matched. Either the man simply had no clue at all, which seemed a touch unlikely given that his wife never came to bed the night before, or they truly did have a solid "understanding" between them. Davos leaned toward the latter.

He also leaned toward falling over, and as such excused him once he felt it unlikely that he would wake up with an awful hangover.

Shuffling into his room, Davos found one lamp already burning, courtesy of the inn's other staff. He found a full washbasin on the table, washcloths and towels. Such service still felt alien. Then again, he'd been through many strange new experiences in the past few days.

Thoughts of goddesses and blessings had been chased away by the stress and worry conjured up by the dinner. Had he insulted the prince somehow? Was it his imagination, or did many of the Companions spend more time feeling him out for weak points rather than simply being friendly? Blearily, Davos used the lantern to light a few more candles. Later, he'd wonder why he did that when he intended to clean up and go straight to bed, but men did sillier things after so much drink.

Davos pulled off his shirt, put one of the washcloths through the basin and began to wipe his chest down. He looked in the mirror, noticed that his face was still as smooth as if he'd just shaved and didn't even think twice about why, and then kicked off his shoes and set to undoing his pants.

He never gave a second thought to the open shutters of his window.

* * *

Across the street on the next rooftop over, Majella's breath grew heavy. Gods, she thought, that body. Oh, the pants. Please, don't turn away too soon, let me see what you've... oh my.

He'd taken long enough in getting up there. Majella could have been in and out of his room via the window before he'd come back, but she couldn't have known that. Now she wished she'd hidden herself in his closet or something to allow for a much closer look at all that glory. If he was that hung while relaxed and about to go to bed...

Majella's attraction to him had built through the night. He was friendly, humble, able to hold up a lively conversation and generous to others. At no point did he dismiss her words or Terrwyn's; even the Companions, who respected their abilities, would still sometimes let their chauvinism show.

This man fought bravely, ran across a dragon's spine, and paid for a dinner he hadn't organized when he thought the hosts would be stiffed. And he was gorgeous.

She saw nothing to be learned from watching him sleep.

Her eyes swept the street, looking again at the path she had already picked out. From this rooftop to the next, along the awning of that fruit seller's shop and then a quick lash of her whip to latch onto the railing of the building across the street, and then a simple couple of jumps from building to building. She'd be atop the inn before he could blow out all those silly candles.

She didn't worry about falling. Nor did she worry about being caught. She could always challenge the other Companions to do better if they had a problem with the latter.

* * *

He only noticed his silliness with the extra candles when he was ready to climb into the bed. Davos went from one side of the room to the next to blow them out, finishing with the lantern. His window got a fair amount of light from the full moon that seemed almost directly in line with his room. With the candles and lantern only just now snuffed out, though, it would be a few minutes before his vision adjusted. By then, he figured, he'd be fast asleep.

The shadow that moved across the faint pool of moonlight on his floor caused him to look out the window, but he saw nothing there. He took it for an owl or some other large bird, shrugged and pulled the blankets back to lie down.

Something thumped lightly on the roof. "Raccoons," he muttered, and stretched out on the bed. The washcloths had cooled him off considerably, but the room was warm enough that he didn't really want the blankets just yet.

Davos considered opening the window a touch. He looked up and saw some brief flash of something dark—probably another bird, he figured—but the window, it turned out, seemed already open a touch. He put the thought aside, took a couple of slow, deep breaths, and then let out a yawn.

Then he heard the thump.

The figure looming over his bed wore black leather armor, a cowl and a mask that covered the lower half of her face. He saw weapons—sheathed, but present. He suspected it might be a woman, but in the one blink-of-an-eye look he had, he didn't give it much thought. That armor was meant to offer actual protection, not show off a woman's skin.

He gave none of that any real analysis. He just acted with the only weapon he had. Davos swung his pillow up in a broad arc fast enough to surprise the intruder and hard enough to that she staggered to one side, even having gotten an arm up in time to protect her head.

Davos kicked low, his foot connecting with her armored thigh to shove her back. He made it to his feet just in time for her to drop low and sweep out one leg, tripping him and sending him sprawling onto his back. She had his wrist in a flash, twisting it around his back and rolling him over onto his stomach.

He could yell for help, but at best that would bring Thaddeus, Juliana or some other poor innocent running into danger. Davos flailed backward with his other arm, elbowing his attacker's hip to no avail and then reaching back for anything to grab. If he could snatch one of those daggers from her belt, he'd at least have something.

His fingers caught and unclasped a buckle, which seemed to catch on some sort of string underneath the protective leather and pull that loose, too. That wasn't what he needed. The results were helpful, though; his attacker was momentarily distracted, and then he had the chance to twist and gain enough leverage to tear out of her hold.

He spun around and heard her grunt something dismissive, apparently giving up on whatever fix she'd need to make for her armor, and then he was on her. The pair struggled on the floor, grabbing at one another's hands and wrists and turning this way and that. He thought her awfully strong for a woman her size, but then, she had probably climbed in through the window and here she was in armor and sporting blades. None of that spoke to weakness.

She was quick and clearly used to fighting. She knew the tricks. Why she didn't pull one of those blades on him, he didn't know, but he used his slightly greater size to his advantage for all that it was worth. In one quick move, he wrenched her onto her back, pinning her wrists to the floor with his hands.

He didn't intend to get between her legs. He absolutely hadn't realized how aroused his sex had become. The first he knew of it came when his cock slipped over the flesh right where that bit of armor had come undone—and came in contact with a small patch of soft hair.

Davos gasped, partly in surprise and partly in genuine guilt, but his opponent just inhaled sharply and eased off on the struggle to free her arms. He caught the sparkle of her eyes in the moonlight.

"Do it," she hissed.

His hips gyrated enough for him to explore, just a little, without conscious thought on his part. Her demand caused his basest instincts to overpower his sense of propriety. His subconscious processed her words of consent before his conscious mind did.

Shocked and thoroughly aroused, Davos stared into the woman's bright, moonlit eyes as he pushed into her.

"Ooohhh, yes," she moaned as he penetrated her wet flesh. The intruder's eyes rolled back and then her head tilted in the same direction as her hips pushed back to welcome more of him inside her. Davos let go of one of her wrists and tugged down the black mask covering her mouth and nose to reveal quivering lips and an entirely familiar face.

"Majella?" he blinked. His body followed its urges.

The woman underneath him smiled and writhed with approval. "Wow, there's a lot of you."

"What are you doing here?"

"Mmh. Getting fucked," she purred.

"But I—you—" urges got the better of him. Davos planted a hungry kiss on those lips, which she welcomed gladly. Most of her armor was uncomfortable against his bare body and the handle of one of her blades jabbed against his side, but all he really knew was the tongue and lips that melded with his and the tight, silky bliss of her pussy.

"You could've knocked," he said finally.

"Could've. Isn't this more fun? Unh. Better if... you earn it."

She had a point there. He was fiercely turned on, and so was she. "You let me hear you, didn't you?"

Her heavy breath testified to her pleasure. She pulled her thighs up and further apart to wrap her knees and calves around his waist. "Don't tell anyone?" she asked. Her eyes flared with wanton lust to match her grin. "And don't you dare stop fucking me."

He would've laughed, but the carnal sensations that drove his judgment also left him less than fully in control of his own breath. He could move his hands, though, and soon he set to finding the other buckles and drawstrings of her armor. Majella gave him plenty of help with that.

Davos rutted on the floor with his increasingly naked partner. Her lithe figure and small, smooth breasts increased his passion. Vulnerability seemed to do the same for her. By the time she was down to just jewelry and tall leather boots, the pair were less concerned with her attire and more concerned with lust and satisfaction.

"So good," Majella breathed. "Usually I need real foreplay, but this is... so good!"

"I'm glad," Davos smiled against her neck before kissing it. Majella whimpered and laughed happily before the pace of his penetration reduced her to heavy breaths in tandem with his every thrust.

They continued on. Davos's fatigue and rum-induced buzz vanished in the face of this great pleasure. He remembered Ariella's words about accepting the joys that came to him, and how he'd have to experience the gifts of the goddess before he'd be able to truly accept the reality of them. Now he knew.

Juliana had been warm and gentle. Ariella offered sensuality and erotic skill. With Majella, Davos found delight and enthusiasm as she laughed and squealed through their raw, needful fucking.

Davos groped, kissed and thrust at her as she gave back in light scratches and bites, but soon all she could do was lie back and enjoy him. Her first orgasm caused her to tremble violently and then writhe underneath him in a languid stretch. Davos kept fucking her, both for his own selfish pleasure and because he wanted her to have more. He was ready to take her through the night.




Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 03



Lustful gratitude swept through his mind, both toward his partner and toward the goddess who oversaw such fortunes. Three beautiful, sexually confident women in a day and two nights. He wasn't even tired.

"I owe Aphrodite prayers of thanks for this," he murmured aloud.

Majella shivered underneath him. "We both do." Her fingers interlaced with his hair, then formed a tight fist to afford her a good grip. "Later."

* * *

"Boy-king. Wake up."

The low, guttural hiss snapped Alaric out of his slumber. He sat upright in his large, comfortable bed and looked around the moonlit room. He found two pairs of yellow eyes staring back at him. The goblins dressed all in black from the look of it, with the usual mishmash of armor under their black cloaks.

They didn't have weapons out, but their hands were near. Still, if they'd meant to kill him, they'd never have woken him. Alaric sat upright, naked but for the sheets covering his waist and legs. "What do you want?"

"Deal got broked," croaked the goblin closest to him. "Dragon alive still. Angry at the goblins. Very angry."

"I did not break the deal," Alaric shot back, his voice low despite the privacy offered by his large bedchamber and its solid walls. "Your shaman died through no action of mine. He knew the risks. My deal was with him."

"Deal not with shaman! Deal with king! Shaman fight for king! All goblins fight for king!" the goblin said, turning his face up and raising his hands as if in praise.

Alaric balked. "I never spoke with your 'king!' Nor did my wizard—who is also dead, mind you!"

The goblin made a face. "King does not know your human monkey-speak. King not do talky work with humans. Shaman do that. Heralds do that. Grald is herald," said the goblin, jerking a thumb at himself. "Good for human monkey-speak. Good for sneaking. Come talk to boy king. Talk new deal."

"A new deal?" Alaric fairly burst. "What do you even know of the old deal?"

"Know all of old deal," said Grald, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding with a proud air. "Shaman control dragon, invade city. Prince kill dragon, talk out peace. Make humans think mountains past Blue River safe, pull back human soldiers. King take control past Blue River. Everyone get rid of dragon, but boy king take on curse from killing it. Goblins win."

Alaric scowled. "Yes. The curse," he muttered. He didn't bother hiding his disdain for such a ludicrous idea. It wasn't as if the goblin would understand his scowl.

"Now dragon hunt for goblins," said Grald. "Smash bridges in mountains. Spits fire in our caves. Dragon slept before deal. Dragon supposed to be dead by now. Dragon not dead. Dragon angry."

The goblin leaned in and poked at Alaric's chest. "You fix."

Alaric slapped its clawed grey hand away. "Don't you touch me, filth!"

Grald made another face—hardly any better or worse than its original expression to Alaric, but he noted the difference. "Boy king fix problem. Boy king kill dragon."

"Are you mad?"

"Great king very mad," Grald nodded, raising his hands in praise again. "Great king pissed."

"We could kill it before because your shaman could control it," said Alaric. "Can your tribe do that again? Do you have another shaman?"

"Not with such power, no," Grald shook his head. "Old shaman could only do once. If shaman could do it more than once, king would not make deal. Humans kneel before goblin king!" Once again, Grald put his hands toward the sky... but then shrugged and let his arms drop. "But not so much. So goblins stay in mountains and raid lands for what they want. Let humans work and make stuffs. Goblins take." He nodded sagely. "Goblins smart."

Then it was Alaric's turn to make a face. Grald stunk. His garb seemed held together as much out of luck as anything else. His nameless partner stood there openly picking its nose. The goblins were plainly savages, but if they had to tell themselves they were smart to justify holing up in the mountains and staying out of human lands, so be it.

"But goblins not take on dragon. Boy king do that. Boy king promised to kill dragon. Boy king do it, or human queen find out about deal," Grald threatened. "All humans find out about deal. Goblins have ways. Like goblins have ways into human city now. Not so easy to keep us out after battle, boy king."

"You bastards," Alaric seethed. "How dare you dictate terms to me."

"Boy king is still boy. Goblin king is king!" The hands, naturally, went up again. "Our king not have shame of deal with boy king. Goblins not know deal, but goblins obey. If goblins find out, goblins still obey. The goblin's eyes narrowed. "Grald know humans not feel same. Humans not have loyalty."

Alaric nearly choked on that. He'd seen goblins trample one another in a mob for the loot off of a fallen man or to escape a foe. He'd seen them literally throw one another in the way of pursuing enemies. But the hypocrisy didn't bother him nearly as much as the demand it encompassed. "Your stupid shaman was supposed to make the dragon vulnerable for me," he hissed. "How the hell do I kill that thing now?"

Grald just shrugged. "You boy king. You figure it out. Boy king have one week. If not seen in mountains hunting for dragon by then, goblins act."

He stepped back, crossed his arms over his chest, and waited. His partner did the same. "Now we go."

"Fine. Get out," Alaric sneered.

Grald nodded, but didn't move.

"Well?" asked Alaric.

"Boy king look away. Not see how goblins got in."

"You can't be serious!"

Grald made another strange face. "Grald not just give away secret path! Boy king turn away or put soft bag-thing over head!" he insisted, pointing to the pillows. "Grald have reputation to protect!"

* * *

Majella's soft moans and purrs could go on all night and day as far as Davos was concerned. The lithe, naked woman underneath him knew how to enjoy a man. With her energy largely spent, all she could do was lay there, look pretty in the light of the second moon and accept the slow and indulgent touch of her partner, but she did that well.

"I can't believe you're still hard and up," she murmured, stroking the tool that rested on the intimate patch of hair between her legs, "or that I'm still ready for it. Is this what they teach you in that temple?"

Davos grinned. "Would it change your outlook if I said yes?"

"Not sure I'd dedicate myself to Aphrodite, but I'll sure step up the offerings and prayers," she answered with a sly smile.

"Might want to do that, then. In the meantime... did you really break into my room for this?"

"More or less," she all but giggled. "I was... alright, you promise not to be mad? Because I really... really like you right now. I did before this, too, but now I think we need to be very good friends."

His eyebrow rose. "You could have won that wrestling match if you'd wanted to, am I right?"

"Who says I lost? I feel pretty triumphant right now."

"Fair enough," he grinned. "My point is, you could've hurt me and didn't. At a couple of turns. So no hard feelings, no."

"Oh, but I like the hard feels," she joked. "No. I felt pretty charmed after dinner, but I was watching you because... well. A man like you shows up at just the right moment in just the right place, saves the day and all that? Can't blame anyone for being a little careful and keeping an eye on you."

"Alaric sent you to spy on me?"

"I didn't say that," Majella countered, still flirtatious and cheerful. "I'm admitting my own curiosity." She paused. "I owe Alaric some degree of loyalty as a comrade, but I'm not his errand girl or his subject. I'll not do something for him that I don't want to do for myself."

"I would think a band like the Companions would have some oath of loyalty."

"Funny enough, no," she shrugged. "Earlier Companion bands had one. Ours hasn't. I have to wonder sometimes if it's Alaric who fears being bound. He's still learning his skills of courtly intrigue and all that," she explained, rolling her eyes, "but no, it's more a matter of unspoken obligation and implied loyalties and that sort of thing. If things were more formal, I think Terrwyn and I would've broken off a few months ago. We... I'm admitting things I shouldn't, but we stay more out of professional interest than personal loyalty."

"I got a sense that the men didn't like me much."

"Rum usually gives courage, but sometimes it just makes one's insecurities stronger. I wouldn't worry too much about it... but I would be grateful if you didn't tell anyone about tonight."

"I'd love to claim the bragging rights of catching a rogue like you," he grinned, "but I think we both know that'd be a hollow boast."

Again, Majella giggled. "I'll need to be gone before the dawn," she said. "No one will see me leave. But until then, I'm happy to make up for your lost bragging righ—ohh, just like that," she sighed as his cock slid back down along her wet lips. She relaxed into a state of bliss as he pushed inside of her, happy to be penetrated once more but lacking the energy to give back.

"You sure you need to go?" he whispered into her ear before he kissed it.

"Yes," she said. "Might need to rest before then, though."

"Then just relax," he replied, but his slow and indulgent thrusts continued. "I don't have anywhere to be in the morning."