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Blessings of a Healer Ch. 01

By: cultofstrawberry



This happens in the same universe as Sorcerer's Treasure, just in a different country/land on the other side of the world. This story also contains hermaphrodites, futas, futanaris, dickgirls, whatever you call these lovely ladies that have a bit of extra!

All characters in this story are at least 18 for any sexual activity that goes on. This original story is copyright of CultOfStrawberry. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Any questions or comments, please leave feedback or email me at the link in my author profile if you liked my story.

o0o

Fifteen Years Ago

The young black-haired girl laughed as she darted between the trees, skipping over roots and stones as she eluded her pursuer.

"You can't catch me, Azan!" the girl called over her shoulder as she spun around a tree and hopped over a thick root.

"I can! I always do, anyway!" he shouted after her. True to his word, he closed the distance between them and pounced, sending them falling to the leafy ground.

The eleven-year-old easily pinned his eight-year old companion to the ground, though he did so in a gentle way, making sure she was unhurt. "What was that you said before about me not catching you, Ialia?" he smugly noted as he looked down at her. His hair and eyes were both dark, his skin a light, dusky color that told of both his heritage and the time he spent outdoors.

"Very well, now off me!" She squirmed against him, trying to get out from under him, and he conceded. "I may have shown you mercy, but do not think I will be so kind next time!" he said, puffing out his chest and flexing his biceps. Ialia groaned and rolled her eyes as she got up, brushing the leaves off her tunic and skirt.

"You're such a silly boy, Azan!" she said with a shake of her head. He frowned a little at that.

"I am not a boy, I am a man!" He thumped his chest once to emphasize his point.

"You have not a beard or mustache," she pointed out. He placed his hands on his hips before darting after her, and she let out a wild giggle.

Having her father's property along one side of Azan's grandfather's farm gave the two children plenty of time to play. Her father didn't approve of her going out to the farm to play, but he'd been assured by the grandfather that she, and her siblings, would be safe on his farm as if they were his own.

Her father saw this as an opportunity to teach his children, so he would have Azan's grandfather take the children around the farm, showing them how things were done, and giving them work to do. As was inevitable, several of the children paired off as friends, and Ialia and Azan were no exception.

When there wasn't work or school to be done, they'd seek one another out and play, going on adventures around the grandfather's farm and nearby woods. Neither of the children could describe it, but they had felt a bond between one another, unshakable.

"Let's find some strawberries, I know you love those," Azan called out. She paused, reminded of the hungry rumble in her stomach. She turned towards him, and he grinned at her. He'd always had some innate ability to find the best berries, or nuts, or whatever else the earth could yield up, and she was quick to allow him to share this gift with her.

Minutes later, her mouth was full of sweet, ripe strawberries. The ones he'd located had strawberries almost as big as a baby's fist. Azan plopped down in the grass, and gestured for her to sit next to him, which she eagerly did after she'd collected a handful of berries.

He loosely wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and she leaned back as she ate her strawberries, simply feeling peace in this quiet place and the bond she shared with her friend.

o0o

Ten Years Ago

Ialia stared in numb shock as Azan, Azan's older brother, and her own brother were led away by the King's Army, having just been conscripted into it. Azan's mother was weeping quietly, and her own mother had to be restrained by her husband from running after her son.

It was a sunny day, and the leader of the soldiers boldly stated what a good omen this was. All families with more than one son was required to give one up to the army. If the only sons a family had were too young or disabled, that family would be expected to give something else, such as provisions, since as the captain said, no one was exempt from supporting their King when called for.

The captain, seeing Azan's family, said that they had enough to contribute not one but two sons. Who could argue with a man who had the power to order your house to be burnt to the ground and your family hacked to pieces?

The war was madness, everyone said. Yet who of them could say that to the King's face? Be glad we're not asking for women too, the captain reminded them.

She stared at Azan, who was looking over his shoulder at her, his face calm, but his rage and grief so palpable it was almost visible, making her shiver as she looked into his eyes.

o0o

Present Day

Ialia tried to not let the feeling of crushing despair overwhelm her as she stared at the soldiers milled about, herding prisoners, shouting orders, and doing quick searches of the buildings that surrounded them.

Emerald Hill was supposed to be one of the best-defended cities in the country. It also boasted of some of the best schools, which was why she was sent here, to study medicine, and master her elements. After almost ten years of study, she was an experienced healer and advanced Water mage, with a strong affinity for Air and some control over that.

Her abilities had been put to the brutal test these past few days between healing, keeping channels of water pure, and keeping herself safe during Haidien's seige.

The efforts of the city had come to naught, and Haidien's soldiers now walked the streets freely. Citizens had been ordered to surrender, and give the soldiers no trouble while Haidien solidified his takeover.

She wore the gray and white tunic of a healer, which gave her some protection against the attentions of the guards. She was only stopped several times, and was generally let go quickly.

The next day, there was an order for healers to be taken to Haidien. She was taken into custody with the other healers in the city, and taken to the large clearing before the governor's house. The other healers were no more privy to Haidien's plans than she was, and she wondered if this gathering meant a mass execution. She dearly hoped not, healers were generally considered valuable to conquerors for their talent.

Whoever Haidien was, it was clear that he was powerful in magic. She sensed a trace around the soldiers, and more deliberately woven around the city, a faint gold in her peripheral magical sense. She also sensed a trace of black magic. That did not bode well.

However, healers started leaving, looking relieved. Each one that went in, came back out unharmed.

o0o

Haidien sat in the plush chair, finding it somewhat too soft. He shifted around a bit before settling himself, a formidable sight in his armor and regalia. He was out of place in this room, and he knew it, twisting his lips a bit at the garish tapestry that signified the former governor's family sigil.

He looked up as the next healer was sent into the room. It was a male. He waved his hand, and the healer was ushered back outside with a silver coin, like every healer before him. The next one was an older woman, who was treated the same as her predecessor.. Several more came before him before he finally had what he was looking for.

She stood before him, looking neat and professional in a healer's tunic, a bag at her side that contained herbs and other supplies. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, giving her a somewhat severe appearance. However, there was no denying just who she was, and his fingers tightened on the arms of the chair for a moment. He had to calm himself.

"State your name," he commanded.

"Ialia... my lord." She sounded uncertain of the title, and he chose to not comment. It seemed so inconsequential at the moment. The room was silent for a couple of moments, and the guards stared ahead impassively, having heard several dozen exchanges between Haidien and the healers.

"I have found what I wanted," he stated as he rose from his seat. Ialia's eyes became wide with surprise and fear, but she remained still. "Dismiss the rest of the healers, and ensure that each gets a silver for his or her time."

Haidien had a reputation for being stern and fearsome, and it was well-deserved. However, he knew that small gestures of fairness had their place. The healers, unharmed, would serve as an example of how easy it could be to simply obey.

The pair bowed and left the room, leaving him alone with her. It'd been far too long since he'd seen her, and seeing her in person, was much sweeter than all the fantasies he'd had of her in the past decade. It was clear that she had no recognition of him however, and he intended to remedy that in due time.

"You will come to no harm," he assured her. "You will attend to me personally, and you will be well-protected," he said, hoping this would put her at ease. Now was not the time to reveal himself.

She dipped into a curtsey, a bit of uncertainty on her face still as she murmured "yes, my lord."

o0o

She was to be Haidien's personal healer. Why didn't this mighty conqueror have one already? Or why not a male healer, or one with more experience? Unless he was looking for something more than a healer. She swallowed with grim realization that if he was such a powerful magician, he probably saw through the illusion she'd cast about herself with Air magic. It was not a huge amount of magic by any means - really, more like a touch of glamor - that cast an ordinary appearance around her face.

Under this glamor, her eyes and hair both appeared to be brown, and her face was less angular. All it took were a couple of little tweaks of the air around her, and she had an appearance of inconspiciousness. It was also elegant in its simplicity, she could cast it without thinking, and very few people saw through it, or even bothered to try.

His assurances of safety did not quite mollify her. She'd been carrying around a secret since birth, a secret that set her apart from other women. For so long she'd kept it a secret, as did the few members of her family who knew of her... uniqueness.

If Haidien truly meant to have her in his bed, then he would come across a surprise which might very well be her demise.

She was a hermaphrodite, something that her mother and the reverend mother who oversaw her training, said could be a blessing but was seen by many as a curse or abnormality. It was much safer to keep it hidden, they told her, and to focus on other pursuits of life, especially worthy ones. A healer was one of the best choices for her future, and coupled with her strong magic, secured her a decent source of income, an unspoken status of honor in the city, She kept to herself when not at work, politely refusing all suitors.

Though not a nun, it was not uncommon for a healer to adopt an abstinent lifestyle, and Ialia had adopted one out of necessity. She found solace in her work and studies. Now that might all come to an end.

She tried to not faint as Haidien moved towards her. He was an imposing sight, and the magic she'd sensed before surrounded him like a shield. With her sixth sense, she could feel it, strong dark gold with streams and bursts of brilliant red through it. She had the sense that what she was seeing was merely what he allowed her to see, and that he had a lot more power than what anyone might suspect.

Should she speak? Did she need his permission to ask a question? Her eyes darted to the mask that he wore. It was twisted and demonic, with a fanged grin and glowing eyes.

"I am making my encampment on Emerald Hill. You will have quarters set up for you, and room to do your work."

"Thank you, my lord."

Emerald Hill was named justly, and during the construction of the city, the mages said that the hill should never have a building on it, as that would interfere with the magic. The hill remained pristine to this day, though sometimes people would walk across it, gathering flowers or simply having their leisure. Trees spotted the hill, bearing succulent fruit at the right times of the year, and she'd been there several times to collect a basket of this or that. Even though Earth was not her element, she could feel the energy here.

Now the clearing at the top of the hill was cluttered with tents and makeshift buildings. She was quiet as she followed the man in front of her, any inclination to try to run away remaining firmly within the recesses of her mind.

After her meeting with Haidien, she'd been placed in the care of a sour-looking older man who barely spoke to her, but did just as Haidien had asked of him - he watched over her, made sure she had a proper mid-day sup, and saw to it that she had a modicum of comfort as she waited for the day to end. He seemed to be a personal servant of Haidien, though he was far from a soft-handed butler. The left side of his face looked like something had chewed on it a long time ago, and across his back he carried a sword. His name, if she had heard right, was Staber.

Through the city, she could see several of Haidien's black, red, and gold banners waving in the wind. The top of Emerald Hill really did give an excellent view of the city, and she wondered what it would be like once Haidien was done with it. An impatient 'harumph' from Staber pulled her attention back to the encampment, and she was led to what was obviously Haidien's tent. Even without the strong magical wards she sensed around it, the tent could only belong to one person due to the quality of the decorations as well as the thick red and gold rug she saw rolled out in front of the entrance.

"Enter the tent and be seated. Lord Haidien will be here in due time."

"Yes." She said nothing further as she stepped into the tent.

Several lanterns illuminated the space, and while she didn't see anything that was especially ostentatious, she could see that Haidien did not eschew comfort. There was a hearth in the middle of the tent, nearly lined with rocks and dirt, and a modestly-sized fire that was dancing cheerfully. Near one wall was a pile of blankets and furs, and she saw a couple of cushions and stools scattered about. Anything decorative bore the colors of red and gold, with a rare glimpse of green or blue.

She wondered why Haidien needed a personal healer. Wouldn't he already have one? Unless... he had disposed of his previous healer as punishment? For what sort of offense, if that were indeed the case? Would she have to escape from him, or at least try?

She calmed herself by closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, taking comfort in the warm Earth magic she felt under her feet. She couldn't control the element, but she could draw a bit of strength from the ambient magic for her own needs.

Her eyelids fluttered open when she heard voices outside. Several men greeted Haidien, and one made a report to him about the city's own subdued army, among other points.

From what she gathered, the King's army had been subdued, and given the chance to join Haidien's side. The soldiers had been given three days to make this decision. She already knew that two towns to the east had been taken, but Emerald Hill had been confident in its ability to hold the warlord off. With such a prize under his control, little would stop his advent to the west.

As she listened to Haidien speak, she was met with an odd sense of familiarity. There was something in his words, his voice, the rumble of his tone that had her certain that she knew him from somewhere. She listened with one ear and racked her brain for a connection.

The tent door was pulled open, and Haidien entered, letting the heavy cloth fall behind him. In the limited light of the tent, he looked even more imposing in his mask and armor.

"Good evening, my lord," she said, remembering just who he was, and determined to not do anything that might anger him,

"I trust that Staber was... a suitable companion," Haidien commented. She paused and nodded. For what it was worth, he'd done his job, and said nothing when she pulled a book from her bag to read.

"Good. He knows his duty well." He glanced at her for a moment. "It matters not to me whether you use glamor for other people, but there is no need for it in here."

"... Yes, my lord." She relaxed her mind for a moment, feeling the magic dissipate.

"I do appreciate respect, but there is no need to refer to me as such in every sentence." He sounded faintly amused.

"As you wish." She drew her knees to her chest.

"It is good to see you again, Ialia," he said, coming closer to her.

"... I am pleased to have made such a good impression on you."

"How could you not? You are my dearest friend."

She blinked and looked up at him sharply. The eyes of the mask no longer glowed, and she saw a pair of human eyes behind them.

He lifted his hands, and lifted the mask away from a ruggedly handsome face, modestly-tanned and sporting a five-o'clock shadow. She stared at the face for a couple of moments in stunned disbelief.

"Azan?" she asked with an incredulous whisper. He broke out in a wide grin - the grin she remembered so well - as he closed in on her, his hands on her shoulders. Azan. But this was Haidien. How was that possible? She was barely aware of the feel of his hands, the way he gripped her in a firm but gentle manner.

"How... how is this even possible?" she whispered. He let out a short laugh.

"I deserted the army. I had raw magic, and I'd known about it for a while, even before I was conscripted. I continued developing it and then made my escape with a golem in place." He smirked at that. "I helped a few other deserters, and formed my own gang. Developed it into an army since, as you can see."

"Wow. That is... impressive," she acknowledged. "But... you're a warlord. You spread chaos in the Kingdom."

"No. I bring revolution. I bring justice and vengeance. From chaos will rise a new order."

"And so you are Haidien."

He nodded and let go of her.

"Why am I here? There are healers more experienced than I."

"I wanted to see you again. The flames showed me that you were a healer. I have not forgotten you, not for one single day. When I was led away from these guards all these years ago, I vowed that I would see you again. We are meant to be together."

So that explained why the healers had been rounded up. "So... it's as simple as that? You just want a personal healer, and you would prefer to trust an old friend?" she asked tentatively. It made sense, after all. She was still in disbelief that this was Azan, but she would be pragmatic about it.

"Yes and no." Azan smirked as he reached up to undo his armor, laying aside the breast- and backplates and shoulder pads. "Mmm, are you thirsty?" he asked casually as he undid other parts of his armor.

"A little, yes."

"There is a flask on the table, see it? There are a couple of cups as well, fill one for yourself."

She quickly obeyed his command, and was greeted with the taste of a smooth dark wine of high quality.

Haidien - Azan, she reminded herself - was now divested of his armor and was clad in a comfortable brown and gold long-sleeved shirt and loose trousers.

"There is something else I must tell you. Something that I have waited long enough to say, so I will not hesitate any longer. Ialia, I care for you deeply. I knew the first day I laid eyes upon you all these years ago that we shared a bond. I didn't quite understand what it was back then, but I do now. I want you as my companion. My lover." There was no teasing glint in his eyes, none of the good humor she remembered from their childhood.


Blessings of a Healer Ch. 01



"Azan... I would be honored to be your physician. I would serve you to the best of my abilities, but physical intimacy is... I can't." She quickly looked away.

"What? Why? You're not married or betrothed, are you?"

"No."

"What is it, then? Am I repulsive to you?"

She blinked and looked back up at him. "Not at all. You're very handsome."

"That's not what I meant."

She looked back down. "Please understand, it's not you."

She heard him snort. "Ialia..." She felt him draw closer, his hands on her shoulders again, from behind. "Is there something that troubles you?"

"Yes." She turned towards him. "But you must promise you will never breathe one word of this to anyone. Nor write, or make any other intimiation of such knowledge."

"I am your oldest and most loyal friend. I would never harm you," he chided gently as she felt him gently slide the back of his hand along her cheek.

"Then promise me."

"I swear it then, Ialia. Whatever you tell me shall go to the grave with me."

"I am not an ordinary woman. There is something that makes me very different from other women." She swallowed. "I am a hermaphrodite."

His hands remained where they were for a moment before slowly pulling back. She turned towards him to see a look of disbelief on his face, and she could not help but wince.

"So you're a... dickgirl, shemale?" he asked, seeming to have a hard time with these words.

"No. I am a woman. I have all the womanly parts, but then I have... male parts, too."

"How... why?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I've always been that way."

He looked away for several long moments before he spoke again. "You are still my best friend, Ialia. I have promised you that no harm will come to you. Your secret remains safe with me, as well." He turned away from her, and she felt a lump in her throat, as well as the encompassing release that came with relief.

"There is enough spare bedding for you, sleep where you will," he stated as he gestured to a chest that was partially hidden by the fur pelt of something she did not recognize. "There are some suitable clothes for you in there, as well as some toiletries. It is basic but I am sure it is enough."

She nodded, offering no complaint. She would not forget that Azan was also Haidien, and Haidien had a fearsome reputation that did not grow from naught.

o0o

A hermaphrodite. He'd heard of such things in his magical studies, but a true hermaphrodite was rare, especially compared to shemales, who were born male and then went as a woman while keeping their male parts. As a powerfully advanced Earth magician, he also knew that fertility was one of the traits associated with said element. There'd been mentions and hints of people of both sexes, or changing genders, able to carry or plant seed.

As he poured himself wine, he noticed her take some items from the chest and slide behind the folding screen. Part of him was curious to see her 'uniqueness' but he was also wary. He had never entertained the possibility that the woman he loved had been endowed in such a way.

She came out in a gold and green robe that was a bit large for her, but she still looked comfortable.

"Might you be hungry?" he asked. His time in the King's army and as a warlord had not managed to obliterate his sense of basic civility. This was still his best friend, and they had a bond regardless of her physical state. "I have some stuffed olives." He opened a covered bowl to reveal them arranged neatly in rings, with goat cheese and spinach.

"Thank you." She approached him almost tentatively as she reached for the olives. As she nibbled on a few and finished her cup of wine, he changed into a clean set of clothing, black robe over a dark red tunic and loose trousers.

He sat near her on the thick gold and ocher rug. "How did you come to be a healer?" he asked. She looked up, seeming to be happy for the change in conversation.

"My mother and grandmother are friends with healers. They asked the abbess of this city's convent to admit me to their classes, so I learned the healing arts."

"And magic, as well," he noted. She hesitated a moment and nodded. "I know you can sense my own magic. So there's no need to hide anything from one another, hmm?"

She blushed at that.

"Also, you may call me Azan in private, but only when you know we are alone."

"That is understood." She gave him a brief nod.

"Good. You may retire for the evening." He stretched out, feet near the fire. "Just settle on that side of the furs when you're tired."

She lingered over a few olives, staring into the fire thoughtfully. Her hair was still in its bun, though a few strands had now worked loose.

"It is nice to know that you are... alive and well," Ialia finally said after minutes passed. Her wine was empty, and he could sense she wanted another. Without a word, he refilled her cup. She thanked him.

"So you did miss me?" he asked. She nodded.

"It is as you have said, we share a bond."

"What kind of bond though," he challenged. She blinked and stared blankly back at him. A guffaw escaped his throat.

"It has been a long day, and we are both tired," he finally stated. She nodded and looked down at her glass before drinking from it.

o0o

Ialia finished her wine, and then excused herself to where he'd said she could sleep. She settled down, making sure to not take up too much space. The bedding was actually pretty comfortable, and knowing that it was Azan here did ease her tension somewhat, but much of it remained. Had she been an ordinary female, she doubted she would have offered any resistance.

She closed her eyes, but woke up when she felt him climb into the pile. He did not touch her, and settled down, faint snoring meeting her ears after about a quarter of an hour. Finally, she fell asleep again, and did not stir again until just before dawn as the crowing of a rooster met her ears, rousing her out of slumber into unfamiliar surroundings.

She stirred, picking up an array of unfamiliar scents. Leather. Metal. Ash. Male musk. Some sort of incense, perhaps sandalwood with a touch of clove? It was an elusive scent. A stirring of the body next to hers and she recalled just why she was here.

"Azan," she whispered. She saw him stiffen a bit before he rolled to face her.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes."

"Good. Get ready for the day. Breakfast will be brought here, and then I meet with my men."

"What about me?"

"I have books you can study."

"Pardon me..." She tried to remember that she was appealing to Azan, her friend. "What about my friends, my work...?"

"Your first duty is to me. But I suppose it would be a shame to not let you do your work. You may treat the soldiers here, if there is cause for it. No reason to let your skill go to waste."

Azan is also Haidien, she reminded herself. She would not push the mercy this fearsome warlord was offering her. She rose from bed to start her day, wondering what the future would bring.



Blessings of a Healer Ch. 02



I would like to thank everyone for the feedback I got for the first chapter of this story. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint! If you are reading/enjoying 'Sorcerer's Treasure', then you will probably enjoy this ;) If you haven't read that story, check it out for more futa/hermaphrodite goodness!

o0o

The day went by for Ialia in a way she would call relatively uneventful. She saw several soldiers and treated the standard array of injuries - burns, cuts, a twisted ankle. She'd broken her fast with Haidien, and ate her mid-day sup alone. Both of the meals had been a bit simple, but of high quality.

Ialia wondered what Azan was thinking. He'd been quiet through the morning meal, treating her politely. Had her secret put a strain on their bond? Could she really blame him for it? It was as she'd been warned, many would not be accepting of her endowment, or other people who were different in various ways.

Staber was again her chaperone. She had no idea if h was pleased or not with his duty, he gave no indication otherwise. He typically answered her questions with guttural yeses and nos. She was not privy to the discussions between the generals, but she managed to glean, from the time she sat outside and soldiers came to her for treatment, that Haidien planned to stay here for a while and consolidate his power. He'd taken quite a few towns and cities in a short time, and with Emerald Hill under his control, he could afford to take a pause.

She was also able to surmise that most of the soldiers were happy for this. The respite was welcome for many. Pubs, taverns, brothels, or just a bath and a clean bed, was what just about every soldier was in need of.

Not long before sundown, Haidien rode back up the hill, his horse as black as coal, fur shining in the sun. He rode it with ease and dismounted it, letting one of his servants lead the majestic creature away. She stood at the opening as Haidien talked with some of his men. One by one the men bowed and departed, and soon enough it was just the two of them in the space. There was the scent of cook-fires in the air, and shouting here or there.

"Welcome back, Lord Haidien. I trust your day was pleasant," she said with courtesy. He regarded her with a brief nod before entering the tent, and she followed him inside, though making sure to give him space.

Within minutes, servants were carrying food into the tent, setting the table, looking to Haidien for further instructions, and being dismissed.

She took a modest helping of several items and ate quietly, not wishing to disturb his mood.

"After sup, you will have a bath. I have selected two handmaids for you. The tub will be brought into here and you can bathe."

She stilled at that, staring at him with some confusion. She always bathed alone, surely he could deduce that...

"You will be given the privacy you need. I have instructed them to give you privacy as you ask for it."

"Oh. Thank you, my lord."

Azen raised his eyebrow, but finished his cup of wine. She looked up as two young women dragged a tub into the tent. It was a hollow metal one, and then proceeded to fill it, making trip after trip with buckets to fill up the tub. The woman looked to share the same ethnicity as Azan, with dark hair and tanned skin, one a bit lighter than the other. They wee clad in slightly shabby but clean and maintained clothes.

Once the tub was full, the maids brought out soap and other bathing items. They were dismissed by their lord, and he went over to the tub and held his hand over it. Ialia could feel the power surge from him, a burst of red bolstered by a bit of gold, and suddenly the water in the tub was steaming.

He gestured toward the tub and went back to sitting on several cushions near the fire. He waved his hands, and the lamps softened. Keeping her back to him, Ialia stripped herself and climbed into the tub, giving out a sigh of enjoyment as she felt the heat envelop her. Her hair had been pinned in a high bun, and she gave herself a thorough wash before relaxing in the water, the heat remaining longer than she had expected. She meditated, calming herself. Surely if she was being treated so kindly, she truly had nothing to fear from Azan? She opened her eyes, seeing him shirtless, washing himself from a portable basin, and she blushed as she saw his muscles flex under the flicker of the lamplight.

She closed her eyes, slumping in the tub a bit. Azan continued washing himself, and she felt herself slide away in the hot water, consciousness drifting. The energies of Earth and Fire were thick around her, him, and the tent. There would be more layers of it around the hill, doubtless.

How had Azan become so powerful? He wasn't the only mage in the camp, but the power he'd let her see surpassed anyone else's she had ever seen. She opened her eyes, and saw that he was just pulling on a loose pair of dark red bottoms. His long black hair was pulled back in a tail that ended several inches below his shoulders.

She took this as her cue to end her own bath, and waited until an appropriate time to rise from the tub and discreetly dry herself and tie a robe around herself. She looked up to see him reclined on the pile of furs and blankets, staring at her contemplatively. He beckoned to her, and she approached him. When he patted the area next to him, she sat down.

"I have made my decision. I have meditated, and come to the best choice possible," he stated. His hand slid across her own as he stared into her eyes. "My feelings for you have not changed. I still want you at my side, and I will take you as you are."

Her eyes widened, and instinctively, she started to pull back. He held onto her hand tightly. "Tell me, do you care for me at all? Does our bond mean nothing to you?"

"It's not that..." She looked away. "I am truly glad that you are alive, Azan. I have missed you, and seeing you again is..." As she paused, he smiled.

"If you were not... special, would you have accepted me before?' he asked gently.

"Probably," she admitted. He pressed his lips to her brow.

"Then let me make you mine. You would have my protection and honor," he assured her. "To the world, I am Haidien, scourge against the Crown. But in here, I am Azan. Your most loyal friend. Now your most ardent protector. I've wanted you as mine for as long as I can remember, and that remains unchanged."

"Very well." He had stated his acceptance of her in no unclear terms. She saw no real reason to reject him.

"Lay back and unfasten your robe," he instructed. She undid the fastenings of her robe and let it fall open as she reclined back, wondering how she looked to him.

o0o

His breath almost caught in his throat as the material fell away to reveal her bare front, letting him see everything. He had known it would be there, between her legs. She'd made it clear to him what she was, still it was another thing to actually see it.

He didn't want to admit it, but part of him was reeling with surprise. Such an occurrence was something that had never crossed his mind despite the twists and turns his life had taken him. Still, he knew that he also still loved her. She'd been like this her entire life, hadn't she? It hadn't made her any less of a friend.

He watched her settle onto the bedding, a pillow behind her head and upper back. Though she exuded outward calm, Azan could sense her nervousness. He climbed onto the furs, slinking towards her until their heads were level, before pulling her in for a kiss, tasting an almost indiscernible trace of wine. One of his hands slid down to gently massage a breast, feeling the nipple peak under his palm. He gently rolled the rosy nub between his fingers, feeling her moan softly into his mouth as he deepened the kiss.

How often had he imagined having Ialia under him like this, recipient to his amorous affections? Of taking her as his, and bringing them closer in another way?

He moaned her name, and felt her hands slide along his arms. Yes, touch me, he thought as he deepened the kiss, feeling her respond in a way he liked. Her tongue, shy at first, soon enough was lightly wrestling with his own for dominance as her hands pressed at his shoulders. With great regret, he broke the kiss, looking down to see Ialia's pale cheeks flushed a pleasing shade of rosy red.

He continued to slowly massage her breast, taking the time to savor the soft, warm flesh. No fire could warm him like this did. The look on her face, which was relaxation and enjoyment, buoyed him further. He gave her a gentle smile before he lowered his head to kiss along her neck. He inhaled the clean scent of her flesh, and the touch of scented oil he'd had the maids put in the bath. There was also that scent he remembered so well, something that he doubted anyone else would have noted - a subtle hint of the way the air and water smelled after a rain.

His lips traveled down to her other breast, taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking on it gently as he continued his massage, hearing her sigh in pleasure and arch towards him a bit. One of her hands reached up to his head to tangle into his hair. He nuzzled against her breast, enjoying the firmness against his face.

He kissed her arms one by one, lips trailing from shoulder to wrists, again catching that faint, sweet rain-smell. He held her hands to his face, and she cupped it, gently rubbing her thumbs along his cheeks. He kissed her again, his hand sliding down past her stomach and pausing at her thatch, which was neatly trimmed. He went down the side, fingers sliding along her inner thigh as he located what he was looking for.

She was already warm to the touch, and he slid a finger up and down her slit, feeling her twist around a little. Another finger joined the first, and together they slid into her, eliciting a muffled groan from her. He looked down at her, noting every tic in her face as he plumbed her depths, feeling her clench around him.

"Like that, don't you? Imagine how it will feel when I take you properly..." he promised. He continued to explore her womanhood, scissoring his fingers and feeling how she responded to this or that. Firm pokes to the bundle of nerves within her tunnel had her gasping and whimpering.

Finally, he withdrew his fingers, looking down at them. They were slick with her juices and he brought the tips to his tongue, licking them.

She was not the first woman he'd tasted or fucked, but Haidien felt it was safe to conclude that Ialia was the best one he could ever have, and the only one he should. The flavor, while musky and feminine, had the note of rain, how it might taste as opposed to smell. He licked his fingers clean and moved to straddle her, nudging her knees apart. She looked up at him with apprehension.

o0o

"Azan..." she whispered. He gently cupped her face with one hand that was large and strong. She leaned her head into it, and felt him rub her cheek with his thumb.

"I promised you no harm, and I am a man of my word," he whispered into her ear as he nibbled along the earlobe. He drew away and rose to his knees, undoing the loose shirt he wore, revealing a body toned by years of physical labor. There was a faint scattering of dark hair along the cleft that was formed by his chest muscles, and along his forearms.

He looked down at her with what she could almost swear was expectation, a hope for approval. She gave him a warm smile. "The years have made you more handsome, Azan," she stated. He grinned and started undoing the drawstring of his pants, sliding them down to reveal an erection that was already at half-mast. She'd seen several male privates in her time as a healer, but none so endowed as the one currently on display before her, and she felt her womanhood ache at the sight. He stroked it several times, bringing it to full erection, pulling back the foreskin. As she looked up at his face with a fierce blush, he smirked down at her.

She took a deep breath, shivering in anticipation and trepidation. His fingers exploring her and touching and teasing her had been one thing in itself, and how easily she'd been overwhelmed.. how would this feel in her?

"Oh, women are very much aware of that fact." he grinned before he climbed back on the bed, straddling her loosely. "I wear a mask to guard myself against the women as much as the men!"

She let out a small, incredulous chuckle at that as she looked up at him, studying his face, comparing it to the Azen she had once known. She certainly had hoped to see him again, but she'd never imagine it would be like this!

She stiffened without thinking when she felt the tip of Azen's cock gently nudge along her womanhood. She spread herself a little wider, and he took this as a signal to press in. She bit her lip as his cockhead slid within her. He paused for a moment before pushing in the rest of the way in one thrust.

A gentle wince tightened her face for a moment, and she inhaled deeply as her body adjusted to the intruder.

"Ialia..." she heard him whisper. She hadn't even realized she'd closed her eyes. Opening them, she saw him look down at her before placing a kiss on her forehead. She gave a quiet sigh and placed her hands on his sides, stroking them.

"I'll admit I fantasized about this more than once," he whispered, giving her a faint smile. He supported himself on an elbow, stroking her cheek with the back of his other hand. "Of course, these pale before glorious reality." He shifted around a bit, and this caused his manhood to slide a bit within her.

"I am... glad," she said softly, letting her head loll back on the pillows as she felt him slid out a couple of inches before slowly pushing back in. She didn't know how to quite explain the feeling of fullness she had, but once the slight pain passed, she was comfortable. She felt herself relax further, her hands sliding along his back as he started a slow, steady thrust, deepening it a bit every time.

She'd been resigned to a life of celibacy, and here she was, in the bed of the warlord Haidien, who through some twist of fate she never would have predicted, was her own best friend from childhood.

She arched a little as he started to increase the tempo, and her cock started to bounce back and forth firmly. On occasion it would slap gently against his stomach. Her hands slid along his sides and back, occasionally down to his ass. He seemed to like that, she noted.

He pulled out, and before she could say anything, he positioned her by pulling up her left leg and placing it flush against his body as he slid back into her. Her knee now against his shoulder, she gave a soft moan at the new angle this offered as he thrust even more fiercely. She felt his biceps flex against her leg as he held it in place, and she whispered his name fiercely, fingers digging into the blankets as her tits as her breasts jiggled in frenzied crescendo, and her organ was keeping up a similar rhythm.

The relentless rhythm of his thrusts had her approaching orgasm in due time, her sensitized g-spot responding to the thrust in a way that had her seeing stars. She cried out, and felt her inner walls spasm around the relentless intruder, and looked up to see Azan's face contorted in a mask of bliss as he looked down at her.

o0o

With the added slickness that had come from her orgasm, Haidien thrust even more fiercely now. He was a fierce man by nature, and it had taken a great amount of patience to be so gentle at first, but it had been well worth it.

"Ialia..." he moaned as he felt his own orgasm approach, and he panted as he thrust hard, seeing Ialia's body jerk back and forth with the sheer animal force of his thrusts. A viciously hard thrust punctuated his orgasm when it finally roared over him, feeling like an explosion radiating from his core.

He leaned over, groaning in dazed pleasure, pressing her leg against her side as he writhed around in the best orgasm that he had ever experienced, or remembered. Hearing a soft whimper, he focused his eyes on the face of his beloved. The flush of pleasure was high in her cheeks, and she was panting slowly.

He eased off her a bit, relaxing the grip he had on her leg, and she gave a brief nod. He turned his face to press his lips against the side of her knee, his hands sliding up and down the limb. The throes of orgasm gently simmered down, though his passion remained banked like coals, ready to re-ignite at a moment's notice.

He finally pulled out of her, and gently laid that leg on top of her other one. His gaze moved from the curve of shoulder to breast, to waist and hip. Lowering his head, he placed a kiss at the highest point of her hip before kissing upwards. As he did, his body moved upwards until he was spooning her loosely, kissing along her temple.

She relaxed against him as he rubbed her arm. Part of him wanted to fuck her again, but it'd been a long day, and he knew he needed his sleep.

There is time enough, he told himself. Now that he had her at his side, he could do with her as he pleased. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent as he closed his eyes. Suddenly, he felt a soft jerking of her body, so subtle he hadn't noticed at first. He lay there for a few moments, wondering what Ialia was doing. The jerking progressively became quicker, and he heard her muffle a moan.

"Is something the matter?" he whispered. He heard her gasp, and the jerking stopped.

"I... um. I still have a... need to take care of."

He frowned thoughtfully, realizing that he hadn't taken her... uniqueness in account when she'd already had an orgasm. He was still processing that singular fact about his longtime friend.

"Does that bother you?" she whispered before he could say anything.

"Uh... no. I will not begrudge what you... need." He had no desire to make her feel unwanted in any way, but this was still a considerable surprise he had yet to fully absorb.

"Thank you, my lord." She resumed her self-ministrations, and gave a soft groan as she came. She slipped away to rinse herself with some of the bathtub water before returning. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her along the side of her face. She settled under the blankets, and lay in his embrace quietly until she fell asleep.

o0o

Ialia stirred a bit when Azan slid out of bed, but did not rise until almost an hour later. She sensed that the magic around the tent seemed a touch... lighter? The earth-magic seemed to be a warmer shade of gold, or perhaps that was the fire-magic she was seeing.

Silently, she looked around the tent. Laid neatly across the foot of the bedding was her freshly-washed healer tunic, and to go with that, a dress and loose trousers of fine gray-blue linen. She pulled on the appropriate undergarments before she dressed, and tentatively approached the opening to Haidien's tent. Before she could open the flap, it opened from the other side to reveal the maids who had filled her bath the night before.

"Good morning, Lady Ialia!" the shorter one said. "I trust you had everything you needed last night?"

"Oh, yes." Ialia quickly nodded. "I was well-provided for, thank you. What are your names?"

"I am Elis," the shorter one said, already Ialia sensed that she was the de-facto leader of the two. Despite her being shorter, she was heavier than her companion, but she bore her weight well, and had an attractive face with soft cheeks. The other one was more lanky, and her loose clothes hid what few curves she might possess. She seemed more reserved, but Ialia did not sense any hostility from her.

"I am Erze," the taller one said. After that there was a bit of an awkward silence. Ialia had never had personal attendants before, and the biggest reason was not her uniqueness. Her family had a modest income, and her father did not see the need to hire any personal maids for his wife, much less his daughters. If he were to hire anyone, it would be only to fill an absolute need, such as extra hands during harvest season. The women were in charge of their own toiletries, and the idea of a personal attendant to help her with intimate needs somewhat baffled her.




Blessings of a Healer Ch. 02



Elis seemed to sense this, and took a step forward. "Would you like me to help you with your hair? I can style it in such a way that it is comfortable, and not so easily worked loose through daily activities."

Ialia's hair had gotten messed up last night from her coupling with Azan, and she'd quickly combed out her hair and redone it in its bun, which was standard for many women in her field for practical reasons. She wore her hair most of the time that way without thinking.

"Certainly." she said, taking one of the stools and sitting on it as Elis undid her bun and brushed out her hair with nimble fingers. Her hair was then swiftly plaited into The braid started at the crown of her head and continued all the way to the nape of her neck before dangling in a thick, black braid. It was the kind she'd always had difficulty with, and she could not help but admire how even and smooth this plait was.

"I wish I could do that as well," Ialia said, praising the maid. "What else are you good at?" As a healer and a mage, she was trained to assess various situations for the best way to address them, and this was no exception. Getting to know her maids would enable her to utilize them better.

"I am skilled in some household arts. I can sew and mend clothes, as well as wash them. I can also assist with personal grooming like hair and nails. I can also take messages and do errands."

Ialia looked to Erze, who took her cue. "My primary skill is cooking. Although the lord will doubtless have you dine with him, there may be times where you will sup yourself, or perhaps receive a guest, and he is not here. I also play games like chess."

"Do either of you read and write?"

"I cipher well, my lady. My cousin..." Erze trailed off. Cousins?

"I know my letters and can do some ciphering, but..." She gave an apologetic grimace, and Ialia shook her head.

"I was simply asking. I want to assign tasks that are better-suited to either of you." She glanced back at Erze. "I think I sense a touch of magic in you?" she inquired politely.

Erze blinked, looking a bit impressed. "Yes. I am an Adept." Adepts were the weakest of the magic classes, but they still had several useful talents. She studied Erze for a moment, trying to sense what kind of magic. Magicians tended to have no difficulty sensing their own elements, and others, especially antagonistic ones, would be harder to detect. There was no green or blue around Erze. Nor black. Or gold. She reached out with her magical sense, and then... Aha. There it was, a flicker of red.

"I take it your magic helps with your cooking," Ialia said. While Earth magic came in handy for planting and harvesting, Fire was the element most welcome in the kitchen, especially during cold days and colder nights. Even a Fire magician who was only at Adept level could still manipulate the kitchen-fires for the best results for food, whether it be a day-long simmer or a quick sear. "Does it run in the family?"

"No. I am the only one in my generation who has any ability, and the first in several generations." Erze explained. Ialia nodded, that was not uncommon. Magicians would sometimes appear in families that had no inclination for it.

"How did you come to be part of this... horde?" she asked. That was an important question, and the maids could be judged for their answer. The women glanced at one another before Elis spoke, shrugging.

"Our family is not prosperous. There was little enough to be divided between the male relatives. Much less dowry for the girls. Rather than settle for lowly marriages, we decided to leave and make our own living, working together."

"That is smart," Ialia acknowledged. A lone woman was easy prey in some places, but two women, especially related to one another, was a better ward against danger.

"We became ladies' maids for a while, working in a village." She named it, and Ialia realized that it was one that Haidian had taken over months ago. "Haidien's forces came, and my lady fled with her lord and left the servants behind. We knew better than to fight, so we submitted to the army when they came to the house. It is like here, if peaceful surrender is made, then we can hope for a peaceful outcome. We became the servants of a general's concubine, and Erze cooked for them while I cleaned and mended their clothes. The concubine recently fell out of favor with him, but the general recommended us."

So these women had become camp followers without intending to. Still, she could hardly judge them. While it was true many camp followers were just whores looking for income and perhaps a good 'patron', some camp followers knew that even soldiers and generals needed to be taken care of, and there could be a decent living to be made by doing cooking, laundry, mending, cleaning, or other manual labor for an army. The two women looked to be approximately her age give or take a few years, and both looked healthy and content if not happy with their current position in life.

"Very well. Now, what is on today's itinerary?" Azan probably had given them some instructions.

"Azan has requirement of your healing skills. Morning sup awaits outside," Elis said.

Ialia padded across the rugs and slipped her feet into the light, comfortable boots that had been left for her and stepped outside into the bright morning light. The smell of cooking meat and dark tea met her nostrils, and her stomach gave out a sudden rumble. There were several folding tables set about on the grass, and as her eyes adjusted to the light, she scanned her surroundings.

"Azan wishes for you to sit with him," Elis whispered, snapping her out of her reverie. She nodded and went over to the table where he was. The table was large enough for a roomy four settings, or six if the meal was less formal and smaller. She noticed Staber sitting there as well.

"I will make up a plate for you if it please you, my lady," Elis said.

"Yes, thank you," Ialia nodded almost absently as her attention focused on her lover. In the full light of the sun, he was an impressive sight even without wearing regalia. The black on his clothing looked dark gray under the light, and he had a cloak of black, dusky gold, and red.

"Good morning, Ialia," he whispered.

"Good morning, my lord." In public, it's never Azan, she remembered.

"I trust the maids are to your liking?" he asked. She nodded.

"I am... still getting to know them, but so far I am satisfied."

"Several men in the King's army surrendered during the night. They are being brought here."

She glanced at him with interest. "I thought there was one more day still?"

"No reason to make them wait, hmm?"

There really was nothing more to be said about that, so she nodded. Just then, Elis brought back a plate and bowl for her, and Erze had a goblet and cloth napkin.

"Thank you." she said as they set it down in front of her.

"May we excuse ourselves for our own sup?" Erze asked.

"What? Oh, of course!" She glanced to Haidien, to make sure that had been appropriate. He said nothing, and didn't look annoyed. She looked down at her own meal. There was some thick-sliced and crisp bacon, scrambled eggs, and two thick slices of brown bread with a generous amount of butter. At the side of the plate was a large dollop of marmalade.

The tall mug was filled with hot, dark tea. The small bowl contained what looked like something between gruel and oatmeal, with the faint, sweet scent of cinnamon and apples coming from it. It was a little more than what she would have usually eaten, but she said nothing and started on her meal, spreading the butter onto the bread and sampling the various items on the plate. The eggs were a bit overcooked, but overall the meal was pleasing. Adding the marmalade to the gruel added a pleasing addition to the apple, and she finished the entire meal.

"Want some more?" she heard Azan say. She shook her head and wiped her lips and fingers with the napkin. A high-ranking soldier approached Haidien, and knelt.

"My lord, the surrendered soldiers have just entered our camp." He waited with his head bowed.

"Go ahead and leave them at the designated clearing."

"As you command, my lord." The man rose to his feet and left, and she looked back at Haidien

"Letting the city see their surrender, and the peace that comes with it will inspire support to my cause," Haidien said, his voice speaking of long experience.

When they were little, people had been quick to dismiss Azan as a poor farmer's son, as slow and thick as his Element was. However, as Ialia had known for years - and was seeing even now - Azan was quietly brilliant. He might seem crude at first, but he was more intelligent than most men. Azan was not winning support away from the King through mere strength or luck.

She almost didn't notice her plate being taken away.

"You will be coming with me," he informed her.

"... As you wish." She was both nervous, and curious. She'd heard so much about the fearsome Haidien, and his stern brand of justice. Now she would see it in person.



Blessings of a Healer Ch. 03



To the reviewer who pointed out the mistake I made with the names Azan and Haidien in the last chapter - when you're right, you're right. The servants should not have been referring to him as Axan, that was a slip of my mind. Only Ialia should even know that name.

o0o

Azan strode to the clearing, several of his advisers and generals in the forefront, their armor and accoutrements polished and shining in the sunlight. The flag of the Revolution fluttered in the wind, flashing black, red, and gold. Most people thought that these three colors merely represents the elements he used, or was believed to use. Gold for earth and red for fire. Yes, these magics were his, and he'd Mastered both elements. Black for the dark magic he was reputed to use, but he preferred to not resort to that. He was stirring this revolution for a noble cause, and he avoided the darkness whenever he could.

The flag actually spoke of the revolution. Black was the darkness that he and so many others had once been under the rule of an oppressive monarch, and his corrupt Court. Red was for the struggle, the fighting for the cause, the blood that flowed and the passion that reigned high. And then gold, to signal enlightenment, to achieve a golden standard, to abide the Golden Rule. He chose these colors not to represent himself, but the people he fought for. His generals also understood the meaning of these colors, and it was about to be explained to the ones who awaited in surrender.

He pulled his mask down, and strode to the seat that had been set for him. Six men knelt in a row, each heeled by two guards. Azan instilled that into his men, caution, not complacency, was what made an army strong. Better to overestimate than underestimate your opponent. The captives kept their heads bowed, but he could feel their eyes on him as he sat down. Two men he picked sat at either side of him.

Ialia sat to the side with a clear view of the happenings, though a couple of soldiers stood in front of her, standing to the side to give her an unobstructed view of the proceedings.

Azan studied the prisoners before him for several moments. A couple were obviously in need for medical care. The others would need some rest and a proper meal, at least.

"Do you truly surrender yourselves to me? Despite the vows you've made to the King?" he asked. How well he remembered the day he'd taken these vows. He'd recited the words, but for him, they had no meaning. They were merely sounds uttered to make his life marginally easier at that point.

"I am a conscript, sir," the young man second from the left spoke up. He was one of the ones who needed the attentions of a healer, his dark brown hair matted with dirt and blood.

"If you so easily break a word to one king, how can another trust you?" he asked. The man pondered for several moments.

"Were I in your position, I might ask the same thing. But I can only speak the truth, and that is this. I never wanted to serve in an army, but if I must serve one, then better your army than his."

Azan could see a couple of the other men nodding in agreement.

"Very well." He glanced to the soldiers holding the man custody. "You may take him to the medical tent."

The man was helped to his feet and led off. Men had different reasons for joining him and the Revolution, and knowing why one joined made it much easier to know just how to use them and maintain their loyalty. There was something to be said about candor, after all.\

He interviewed the other men one by one, the other injured one first. Satisfied with the man's answer, Azan also ordered for him to be taken to the medical tent. The others remained where they were after their interview was over, and the meeting proceeded without incident.

He smirked behind his mask as he glanced at one of the men. Does the fool think to lie to me, he thought. Well, of course he does. This world is full of fools. Nonetheless, he remained cordial and polite. Villagers were watching them from across the river, but they were easy to ignore.

"As a soldier of Haidien's Revolution, you will enjoy the privileges of being part of my horde. I am stern, but fair. Bounty won by the Horde is shared by all. Do you swear allegiance to me, and thus uphold the Revolution, and to spurn those who would stand against it?"

"Aye, we do." Each of the four men made their promise.

"Then let us break fast, shall we?" he asked, knowing the men would be eager for some real food. A folding table and chairs were set out, and the men sat down in it, a couple did so with a bit of wariness.

"What of our injured comrades?" one of the men asked.

"They are recovering, and will receive their meals in the medical tent. I will not have a man make me a promise out of desperation and regret it later," he stated, letting the men mull over that as the soldiers brought several covered platters and crocks of the various items that had been served earlier to the rest of the camp. He could see that the men were surprised and appreciative of the meal, and the pints of beer they'd been served along with some cooled-down strong tea.

"You will be given a chance to rest, and clean yourselves. After that, you will spend time with my men and learn how to be part of Haidien's Army." He knew exactly who would be supervising them, and the inevitable punishment for the one who had lied to him.

He rose from his seat, and his generals followed him, as did several others.

o0o

"Would you like to see those men in the medical tent?" Haidien asked her. Ialia nodded, and she was taken to the medical tent while Haidien went off to do... well, whatever it was a warlord did, she supposed.

Like everything else, the medical tent had been set up but two days ago. The grass inside of the tent however, was already dying, trampled almost bare in some places, and wilting without sunlight. She looked around, assessing things from a healer's standpoint. This was a camp, not a proper building, but she could see that whoever was responsible for the medical tent was competent. There were the two men from this morning, lying in separate cots with an empty one between them. Three more men rested in nearby cots.

A rustle of the tent flap reminded Ialia that her handmaids were with her. She'd been shadowed before by apprentice healers and a few magicians, but this was... different. She was no longer an ordinary healer. She was Haidien's personal healer, and from the way that his men regarded her, she was not an insubordinate... though she would not fool herself into thinking she had equal rank to any of his generals or favored servants.

What if she had not been a healer? Azan would still want her to be sure, but her healing skills gave her strong grounds for being assigned to such a position. Otherwise, she'd be seen as nothing more than a concubine. Like any of the other women who were part of the camp.

A middle-aged man turned from the table near the side of the tent, and Ialia recognized the healer's tunic. She gave the man a polite nod, of course Haidien would not lead such an impressive army without at least a healer or two in his ranks.

"So you are the Lord's new healer," he said, his face neutral as he looked down at her. He was half a head taller than her and somewhat gaunt, though that did not come from undernourishment. Ialia felt awkward under his deadpan glance.

"Yes. Lord Haidien wishes for me to... keep my skill honed."

"I see. Very well then, I will test you."

Ialia followed him to the nearest man. By rote, she asked the man the usual course of questions. He'd suffered a broken arm just the day before, but she could see that it had been properly set, and there was nothing more that needed to be done. She went to all the others, having similar exchanges between them, although for the two newcomers, she had a prescription to make. The first man, she said, needed to eat more fruit and vegetables, it would improve his overall health and give him better healing from wounds. The second had mere minutes ago had his sword-inflicted wound stitched and sutured, and his smile was tight, his eyes slightly glazed over from the painkiller that he had just been given.

He offered her no criticism for her comments or diagnoses, but he was not forthcoming with any kind words, either. After all was said and done, she saw no further reason to linger in the tent when nothing more had to be done, and she sensed that the healer bore some resentment for her intrusion upon what he viewed as his domain. She might have Haidien's favor, but she would do nothing to stir resentment, at least not intentionally. Once they were outside again, she glanced to Elis and Erze.

"You have been with a camp longer than I have. My life as a healer has been very..." She paused, thinking of the right word, "Regimented." If she was just a concubine for one of the generals or soldiers, she'd be expected to take care of herself, and whatever her man needed in exchange for food, a roof over your head (usually) and sometimes trinkets from a successful battle. Sometimes a man could be kind, but she knew of tales of cruelty, and had treated victims of such. It was a rough life for many, in sharp contrast to the respect and demand for skilled healers.

Elis seemed to understand what she was trying to say.

"Yes, camp life is very different from home life. There's things to get used to. You make your way on your skills. You have a skill that is highly valued. You have Lord Haidien's favor and protection. I would not wish to sound too... forward, but the women of the camp would welcome you as their healer."

The trio had started off in a casual stroll, on occasion seeing a woman, sometimes engaged in a chore for her man, or paired off to share gossip. "Is that so?" Ialia queried.

Erze nodded. "Sometimes a woman displeases her man, and..."

Ialia gave her a firm nod, understanding the meaning all too well.

"Then there are of course, feminine issues. Zerr, the one you just met, is squeamish about that kind of thing. Says he is here to assist soldiers, not whores. The other healer is much the same."

Ialia could not help but wince at that. Healers were supposed to be indiscriminate in those they assisted, but then, an army healer was subject to some brutal sights, and was a job that not all healers would - or even could - aspire for. She'd seen some pretty gruesome things in her tenure as a healer, but she didn't doubt that an army healer probably saw worse.

"So you can see," Erze said, "having someone who would... look after us in that way, someone who understands womanly matters..."

"Of course." She had become a healer to help people, and if she could do that here, she would not waste an opportunity. "I will ask Lord Haidien for permission." She had the feeling that Azan might say yes, but best to not overstep her bounds, or give the women false hope.

o0o

Taking over a town, much less a city, took some effort. Holding onto it, and making it work for you, took even more effort. It'd been a long day, but Azan was pleased to hear that after that morning, several dozen more of the King's soldiers surrendered. That afternoon, a little more than that also surrendered, bringing his potential new soldiers to nearly a century.

There was also the business of making sure that the merchants in the city were able to continue their businesses the best they could, and that went along for other positions. The takeover if a city brought about some inevitable disruption, but the quicker Haidien was able to bring things under control, the quicker he could solidify his control over his conquest. People had to be fed, civilians and soldiers alike, and while his army was watchful of anything going inside or outside the city, people with goods, especially food, were quick to learn that they'd be able to go through the city gates unmolested.

The message was simple. Pledge yourself to Haidien and the Revolution, and your business and home would be left alone. Don't provoke the soldiers, and life goes on as usual.

Unlike many other warlords, Azan did his best to not be a thug, and kept a rein on his army. His soldiers knew that he expected them to conduct themselves with dignity. The Revolution was not for thugs or bullies, and this stance was one of the things that gained Haidien support from the people he conquered. It had been only five days since the city fell to his army, and many people still feared him, but he was gaining support. The King had been increasing his taxes and tariffs, and Azan promptly slashed these to about a third of their former number, and this had been a sure-fire way to gain people's loyalty and trust.

After all the traveling and fighting he'd done as of late, it would be nice to have a place to call home, at least for a while. The magic in this place, especially around Emerald Hill, would replenish and restore him. He'd found a more than suitable temporary seat.

Of course, there was one thing that made his recent victories all the sweeter. He entered his tent, seeing Ialia play a board game with one maid, while the other one did some knitting. After he was greeted, he dismissed the maids.

"I trust your day has gone on well," she said as he approached her. He gave her a faint smile.

"As well as things can go in such... a situation like this. I am actually pleased with how things are developing so far."

"That is... nice to know," Ialia murmured. Azan had the sense that she seemed unsure of what to say about his chosen occupation. Simple enough to ask a farmer about his day and natter on; he suspected that she was still a bit wary around him. Not of her best friend, no. But he had changed much in the last decade, and even his mere physical presence could be intimidating due to how well-built he was.

"Ialia, I want it to be between us as before. When you asked me any question that came to your head and didn't hesitate to let me know what you thought." He grinned at the memory of her calling him stupid once, after he'd taken a dare from his older bother. She'd been right, he mused. He noticed a faint relaxing around her as he said that, almost imperceptible. He sensed more than saw it, but it satisfied him.

"I doubt anyone has ever had a chance to sit with a warlord and ask him questions and make conversation about his conquests," she commented with a faint smile before he saw a bit of worry flicker in her eyes.

"Something troubles you?" Azan asked as he moved closer, taking off his cloak and tossing it aside.

"I... have heard many stories about you. About Haidien, I mean."

He took a deep breath as he removed his arm guards. "You can be sure some of these stories are exaggerations, or false. But likely some of them are true as well." he admitted. "Some of what is attributed to me has been done by my generals or other men. Ask of me, and I shall answer."

She looked down, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve for a moment. She'd taken off her tunic, and in her dress and with her hair braided the way that her maids had done it, she looked especially sweet. She had a touch of world-weariness around her eyes, but still had a compassionate mien around her that suited her task as a healer.

"Just know that I never encouraged needless violence, or brutalizing innocent people. A soldier of mine does that, he is disciplined accordingly."

"Yes," she acknowledged. "When I heard the city fell, I expected the worst. I am surprised but not at all... displeased with how..." She hesitated as she looked for a word, "civil the soldiers were. I was only stopped a couple of times but never kept up for more than a few minutes."

"My war is not against the people, but the King."

"And what did you do today?" she asked as he knelt to remove his leg-guards. Sometimes a man would have a servant assist him with such tasks, but he'd dismissed Staber, preferring to do it himself. He was mindful to not be too complacent or reliant on others, especially for basic needs.

"I met with a few of the more powerful families in this city," he stated. Several household heads had asked to see him yesterday, but he'd held them off until today, to show them that he was not servile to them, and would make time for them on his own terms. "I assured them that if they cooperated with my rule, they would experience little change in their circumstances."

"Little change?" Ialia asked, intrigued. He smiled as he commenced the removal of what remained of his armor. Though he was a powerful magician, physical armor counted as much as magical, if not more.

"Oh, things like loss of certain privileges granted to them."

"Granted by the King, I take it."

He nodded. "Now they are ordinary citizens. They will be subject to the same laws as their fellow citizens, no more, no less." He didn't mention that he'd also had a personally-selected group of his soldiers raid the Governor's manse as a reward for exemplary service. The Governor had been a toady of the King, and not much-cared for by a good part of the city's population. He'd allowed each man to keep a certain amount of gold and valuables, and distributed the rest to the poorest of the city. By this time tomorrow, he expected the manse and grounds to be full of squatters, not that he cared. Azan had no use for such buildings anyway, preferring to be closer to the earth itself, and the Governor's former manse was a lurid, garish construction that was built for ostentatiousness and status.

They talked some more about what he was doing, and he could see that Ialia was surprised, and even impressed, by some of the things she'd heard.

"I could not help but notice some of your magic." he said as they moved away from the previous subject. He'd sensed it as he approached his tent. The powerful shield of Earth remained as it was, but he'd sensed a slight change to the one he'd made of Fire. There was a touch of blue, almost like a paper-thin shield meshed within the glowing red of the Fire-magic. These two elements were natural allies, so the Air magic actually reinforced his own.

"I feel more comfortable making sure that our words are distorted to those who would hear us," she explained. He glanced at her quizzically.

"I have faith in your magic, but Air is most suited for this particular task, as well as sensing things in the air."

"I knew there was a reason I chose you other than your pretty face," he replied good-naturedly as he leaned back, crossing his arms. She giggled softly at that.

"Have you supped?" he asked. It was late, and he'd already shared a meal with several generals.

"Yes, near dusk."

"Is there anything you need? I've heard healers bathe every day, is that true?" he asked. She let out a small laugh.

"I wouldn't mind a hot bath every day! But healers do understand the value of cleanliness, we do bathe our bodies at least once a week, and wash our hands and other parts every day, multiple times if needed."

He nodded, knowing that a healer might have to deal with unpleasant aspects of a patient's body, and needed to keep clean. Though he wasn't quite as fastidious as that, he did appreciate cleanliness, especially after some of the conditions he'd seen during his conscription in the King's army.

o0o

The fire danced cheerily as she poured Azan another goblet of wine. Both of them were clad comfortably, and had spent the better part of the last hour playing the game she'd been playing with Erze. It'd been one she'd played with Azan in their childhood. He'd won, but only barely, and he was a good sport about it.

She handed him the goblet and reclined against him, feeling his free arm drape across her shoulders. She draped an arm around his middle, wrapping it in a gentle embrace.

Ialia had been content with her life as a healer, but she thrilled at being with Azan again. She'd missed him, and had made attempts to locate him, but the King's Army was not very forthcoming with such information, and the trail had run cold. She'd mourned over the loss of her best friend, and now here he was again, their bond much more intimate.




Blessings of a Healer Ch. 03



Subtly, she tilted her head so she could look up at him from under her eyelids, studying his face. He had thick, well-shaped eyebrows that were suited for his strong features. He maintained a nearly-trimmed mustache and broad goatee, the rest of his jaw bearing a hint of darkness despite his recent shave. His olive complexion seemed especially rich under the firelight as he stared into it.

He looked down at her as if he had just become aware of her scrutiny, and kissed her forehead. That simple gesture warmed her, and she smiled up at him. Part of her hoped that he would express interest in intimacy tonight. She thought about Azan's command that she be forthcoming with him. Deciding to go for a gesture, she let her hand slide up his chest before reaching into his robe, feeling his heartbeat as she rested her fingers on his solar plexus.

Azan finished the rest of his wine in one long swig and set it aside before looking down at her. "You enjoyed last night so much you wish for more?" he whispered. She nodded.

She was scooped up into his arms without warning, and gave out a soft 'eep' as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She was not a tiny woman by any means, but it was hard to not feel small in the grip of his thick arms, and pressed against such a sturdy chest. She looked up at him, and though his eyes were glazed over with desire, his smile was warm.



Blessings of a Healer Ch. 04



One reviewer asked me exactly what my futanari have. I realize this is an important answer since there are several different kids I've seen. I try to make it clear in my stories, but without being too detailed or repetitive especially since I have several futa stories. I will just give a brief explanation here.

My futanari have a full set of both organs. They do have testicles, but these are smaller and tighter than a typical male, so this provides much easier access to the vagina. The testicles don't really hang down or swing as they sit just at the underside of the base of the cock and while they can be teased, played with, and cupped/gripped, they don't move around much because again, they're tight against the body. This also makes sex easier as the testicles are more out of the way when a futa is having intercourse with a male partner. My futanari do have clitorises, but because of the uniqueness of their anatomy, the clitoris is a bit harder to access to. The tradeoff is that the clit is more sensitive, so it responds well to intercourse as well as stimulation via hand or mouth.

While the parts are separate, they are connected by some nerves, so when you play with or stimulate one organ, the other one can become aroused, though it doesn't have to be always.

This description applies to all the futanari in my world. Of course, they vary just as normal women do, with some being bigger/taller/stronger/more dominant while others will be the opposite, and so on. Just remember - futanari = fun!!

o0o

Ialia's body was already warm with arousal, and she looked forward to more attention from him, but she hoped that in time he would be more relaxed about her uniqueness and even want to touch or play with it. She would not press the matter, but it was her sincerest hope that her lover would take interest in all of her, not just what he'd long known her as. She looked up at him, and before he could put her down, she kissed his cheek, and was rewarded with a smile.

He deposited her on the bed, and she laid back as she looked up at him, he was in partial silhouette because of the fire behind him. He removed his robe, and the contrast of flame and shadow illuminated his biceps and the other muscles along the left side of his body. The play of light on shadow on such a powerful and toned body was strangely arousing, and Ialia felt herself start to stir to life. She saw the outline of his thick penis dangling in the shadows between his legs and ached in delicious anticipation as she remembered how it had felt before, and how her body would be more welcoming to him this time. Almost without thinking, she sat up and reached out for him, her hand coming in contact with his manhood, wrapping her fingers around it. She heard a quiet moan, but he did not pull away. Emboldened, she started to slowly pump it, feeling it come to life under her touch, becoming harder and fuller, rising into plainer view.

Doing this was arousing her even more, and her own organ started to tent under her robes she increased her pace a bit, using her other hand to play with his cockhead, rubbing her thumb along the tip and feeling the slickness seep out of it.

"Ialia..." he moaned, his voice a thick rumble that caused a pleasant shiver along her spine. The slickness in her channel increased, and she squirmed around a bit.

Suddenly, his hands gently stopped hers. "Much as I enjoy this, I want to take you. Off with your robe, and on all fours."

She paused for a moment, there had been a bit less Azan and a bit more Haidien in the way he'd phrased the last sentence. Nonetheless, she offered no argument, and stripped for him, feeling the heat of his gaze as her breasts were bared before him. Within another moment, she was naked, and rolled over to position herself on her hands and knees. She felt him approach from behind by the way the bedding shifted, and when she felt something lightly brush against her lips, she shivered in anticipation of penetration, her own organ now fully erect.

However, what slid into her was considerably smaller. She bit back a moan as she felt his finger wiggle around as it slid in, and she clenched around it, hearing a quiet chuckle. Another finger joined the first, and he was slowly rubbing the sensitive area deep inside of her that had her fingers and toes curling. He continued this teasing for a bit, and she let out a small coo of delight when he leaned down and started placing kisses along her back. He was slow and steady in his affections, sending pleasurable tingles all the way down to her toes as he lightly nibbled along her lower back.

She was tempted to reach down and touch herself, but she kept her hands where they were, wanting to enjoy his attentions to the fullest. His free hand slid down her buttocks, caressing and massaging, before traveling to her inner thighs. Her cock twitched in anticipation, but his hand returned to her hip, and he continued his kissing and teasing for a few more minutes before pulling away.

Ialia looked over her shoulder to see Azan position himself, hands on her hips as he lined himself up with her. She bit her lip as he started to push in, pausing for a brief moment after pushing in his cockhead, before filling her with one smooth thrust.

"Yes..." she breathed, arching into him, giving him a long, slow clench that drew out a low groan of delight from him. He pulled out slowly, leaving her shivering as inch by inch she became emptied, before going back in at the same pace, leaving her whimpering in frustration.

"Oh, you want me to go faster? Harder?" he purred as he sheathed himself within her, groins flush against one another. His sac rested against her own, and she could almost swear her organ became a bit fuller at that sensation.

"Azan..." she hissed, wiggling her hips against him.

o0o

Hearing her moan his name like that only increased Azan's ardor. He gripped her hips firmly, but he remained mindful enough to not hold her too hard. He'd been initially distracted by the feel of her sac against his own, but he'd told himself that it should be no different than having the same part of his anatomy pressed against her rear end or thighs. Coming to that decision caused something within him to relax, and he did not feel as hesitant about that aspect of her as he had before.

He slowly increased his pace, feeling her clench around him as if she didn't want him to go.

"You sre mine, Ialia," he whispered between thrusts and moans. He leaned down to nibble along her ear. "Never fear. I have none other, and will have none other before you. You are the only one I would have at my side."

"I am yours," she agreed, giving out a quick moan as he suddenly increased his pace. She took him in again and again, seeming to become tighter as he went faster.

Gods, her cunt is perfect, Azan mused as he felt himself approach orgasm, slamming against her rear end and thighs. She let out a soft squeal as he dug his fingers in her hips as his release finally washed over him, a molten explosion of nerves that had him gritting his teeth as he continued to pound into her frantically.

After a while, the blinding heat subsided, and his rhythm slowed, his grip on her hips relaxing. He heard a long, slow breath from Ialia, and whispered her name. She looked over her shoulder at him, blushing fiercely.

"Was that fierce enough for you?" he teased. She replied with a weak chuckle. He remained still for a few moments, simply enjoying the position he was currently in and the sensations it subjected him to. His hands slid over her back and hips, lightly rubbing her and feeling her relax under his touch.

His strength made it easy for him to shift positions, and he pulled them both to the side before he rolled over onto his back, several pillows supporting him. She was now on top of him and seated in his lap, still impaled. He wrapped an arm around her middle, guiding her to recline onto his chest, and she complied, wondering what he had planned.

He nuzzled her and placed kisses along her temple, keeping his hand on her middle, stroking it gently. His other hand reached up to touch her breasts, lightly tugging a nipple or massaging the soft mounds. His hands were slow and languid in their movements as he basked in the afterglow of his climax, wanting to make the fullest of these private moments. He did not miss how relaxed she was against him under his attentions, and he hugged her more tightly as he touched her.

One of his hands slowly slid down her stomach past her navel. He paused as he came to her pubic thatch, and he felt her still almost imperceptibly. Resolutely, he went further, his fingers lightly bumping into the base of her organ, and he felt her shiver a little.

Azan had never touched another organ besides his own. He had no sexual attraction to men. He was aware of same sex relationships, but regarded them with indifference, one of his generals had a young man who was servant and lover and he regarded the general as no different than he did the ones who had women in their bed. He had never imagined he would have reason in his life to touch someone else's penis. Except this wasn't simply someone else, it was Ialia.

He cupped one of her breasts within his hand, the mound nearly entirely covered by his palm and fingers, and started to gently massage it. His other hand traveled further south, and his fingers lightly wrapped around her.

She squirmed for a moment against him, and he continued to knead her breast as his grip on her throbbing organ became firmer. He smirked as the sound of her soft gasp met his ears. She fit nicely into his hand, the full cockhead visible above his grip. As he gave her a squeeze, she clenched around him.

Mmm. This could be fun, he thought with a smirk, his cock stirring back to life within her as he continued to tease her a bit, squeezing and then relaxing his grip, and giving her slow pumps. His attentions were slow and deliberate as he enjoyed her responses to his attentions. In due time, he was at full hardness again, and she squirmed around as he gave her sac a gentle squeeze, causing delicious friction to his throbbing flesh.

He deliberately gave that delicate flesh several more squeezes, enjoying how she wiggled and squirmed under his attentions. They weren't modestly hairy like his own but covered in a soft peach fuzz. Giving a slightly firmer squeeze caused her to give out a soft little whine.

"Oh, does that hurt?" He paused in concern.

"It's just so.. sensitive." she whispered. He smirked at that admission, storing this new-found knowledge for other opportune occasions. His hand slid back up her cock to stroke and pump her as he felt her clench around him.

"Grind against me," he instructed. "Wiggle your hips and ride me that way."

She was quick to comply, and he leaned his head back in pleasure as her slow, tight grind, his upper hand having ceased its massage of her breast, but still had the tit in its loose, comfortable grip. He maintained a comfortable rhythm with his hand as she wiggled against him, and he applied just a touch of Fire magic ti fill her groin with warmth. That the searing element was associated with passion was no coincidence.

Ialia gave out a soft cry as he pumped her harder now. She'd been erect for long enough that his attentions were doubtlessly more than welcome. Her movements became more erratic as she approached the apex of pleasure, and then it finally came, an orgasm that splattered against his fingers and her chest and breasts.

He continued to pump her for several more moments, slowing his pace as she shivered in post-orgasmic bliss, and het her cock slide from his hand as he started to thrust upwards.

"Move against me, find the rhythm," he whispered as he ground his hips up against her. She moaned and nodded, and placing one hand on the sheets, she started to move against him, slipping into his rhythm after a few exploratory thrusts as she clenched around him. Gods, he didn't think any woman could be tighter.

He groaned into the nape of her neck and braid as he finally achieved his orgasm, emptying his passion into her. She reached backwards to wrap her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers into his hair and pulling him in for a kiss, which he was all to eager to grant. His hand slid up to her face to give her cheek a loving caress before he ran his palm along her arm.

Easing her off him, he closed his eyes and lay there, simply soaking in the pleasure he'd just shared with Ialia. She lay near him, loosely curled up in a fetal position. He rested his hand on the curve of her hip, idly caressing it. No other partner had ever satisfied him as much as Ialia, and he had the innate knowledge that no one else could ever. He opened his eyes and looked at her, admiring the curve of her back, side, and rear end. Her braid was intact, but quite a few locks had worked themselves from it.

Azan looked down at his other hand, where several thick drops and smears of her cum remained. He saw the glint of the fire off the wet sheen on the side of his hand. Tentatively, he brought his hand to his nose, lightly sniffing it. It had a faint and musky but not unpleasant aroma.

He hesitated to bring the hand closer. He'd never tasted another man's semen, and why should he?

Only Ialia wasn't a man. He recalled how her womanhood had tasted, and how he'd not hesitated to taste that part of her. His resolve firmed, he swiped his tongue along a small section of his hand.

He let the flavor linger on his tongue for a bit before quickly swallowing it. It didn't taste quite like a woman tasted, but he'd heard that semen could taste salty, and that adjective was not right for this. He tried another taste, letting the flavor linger a while longer this time. There were notes in this similar to when he'd tasted her womanhood, yet at the same time there was something unique. He licked his hand clean before turning to Ialia, gently pulling her shoulder and easing her onto her back.

She offered no resistance, and he took a moment to study her, seeing the evidence of her release on her breasts and stomach. He leaned down, and started licking her clean.

It was clear she hadn't been expecting that, but also that shock was giving way to enjoyment. She reached up with one hand to lightly stroke his hair, and his tongue slowly moved along her stomach and breasts, giving the pale flesh kisses and caresses between the cleaning licks.

"Mmm." Ialia arched a bit as he gently cleaned the last bit off her breast before sucking the nipple. He lightly massaged the other breast as he kissed his way up to her face and temple.

o0o

Azan licking her clean was not an unwelcome surprise. She hadn't expected him to touch her organ at all, let alone consume what came from it. To be sure, she'd hoped he would be comfortable enough to want to share all pleasure with her, but she hadn't thought it would happen so quickly. She gave him an affectionate nuzzle, luxuriating in the feel of his warm body against hers as she ran her hands along his arms. She felt him smile against her temple when she did that.

"I want you again."

Despite her tiredness, Ialia didn't want to say no. After all he'd done tonight, she really didn't want to deny him, so she nodded. He seemed to sense how tired she was, because he did not ask her to assume any particular positions. She pulled her knees apart, and he positioned himself, already erect again as he lightly grasped his penis, making sure it was positioned.

She shivered as she felt it slide in, welcoming the sensation of being filled again. This time, their lovemaking was more languid and lazy.

"Out of anything and everything I have ever conquered, you are by far the best and sweetest," Azan teased gently as he whispered into her ear, his thrusting slow as he languidly lifted and dropped his hips. This drew out a soft chuckle from her, and she turned her head to look into his eyes.

"No one but you could have me," Ialia replied as she cupped his cheek with a hand. He kissed her forehead as he continued thrusting, picking up the pace a bit now. Compared to before, his thrusts were still relatively languid, but she enjoyed this gentle lovemaking in contrast to his earlier fierceness.

She took all of him in. The sight of him - handsome and strong, his face a mixture of fondness and desire, some locks of his hair having worked free of their simple confine, the outline of his shoulders and arms against the flame.

The scent of him - sweat and male musk, a trace of citrus woven somewhere within the faint scent of sandalwood, and a couple of exotic scents she could not identify but found pleasing.

The sound of him - the way he would whisper her name, the small grunts and moans he made here and there, his breath as he picked up speed or would slow down.

The taste of him - the warmth of his skin under her lips, the way his lips tasted as he kissed her, his tongue sliding into her mouth.

The feel of him - United with him through their most intimate areas, the fullness of him every time he sheathed himself within her, his chest against her own, the way his felt under her hands as she hugged him and let her hands slide along his body, feeling the muscles flex with each thrust.

She moaned his name as she felt her orgasm approach, and he looked into her eyes, nodding briefly as if he knew. His pace increased, and he gritted his teeth, his eyes becoming half-lidded as she felt him move swiftly, subjecting her to thrust after delicious thrust that was smooth and long, the friction making her see stars, and she cried out, nails digging into her back as she finally came to her climax.

The heat radiated from her tight channel even as she felt him continue to ride her. In these sharp, blissful moments, the only thing other than her own pleasure she was aware of was him moving within her.

As she slowly drifted down from the haze of her orgasm, Azan's face came into focus, his features seared into her memory as his thrusting suddenly became quicker, and she pulled him in for a kiss as she felt him explode within her, swallowing his moan of bliss.

After he slowed down some, she wrapped her legs around his middle, and felt him smile against her mouth as he caressed her sides. She clenched around him several times, slowly and purposefully, feeling more than hearing him give a soft gasp at that.

o0o

The feel of her male parts pressed against his stomach no longer bothered him, so he was content to simply remain on top of her, making sure to keep his weight off her chest so she could be comfortable.

"Damn, Ialia..." he groaned as he felt her give him another clench, his spent cock twitching in response.

"I think I have found the weakness of the mighty warlord Haidien," she teased, clenching again.

"Only you could make a jape about me within my earshot and not expect recrimination. Still, that is quite the tongue of yours," he lightly scolded.

"You have quite the tongue too, you know," she pertly reminded him. He let out a short laugh at that before he started to pull back. She relaxed her legs, and he slid free of her before reclining on his side.

He had a healthy appetite for sex since teenagehood, and had made use of camp followers and whores in the past as a means for quick gratification.

This went beyond that. He was sated and tired for the time being, but he knew that his passion for the woman next to him would always burn. No matter how many times he sated himself on her, he would just keep wanting her. She was still on her back, and he let his eyes roam along her body. Even with the fire muted as it was, it was still easy to see how fair her skin was. He reached out to lightly run his fingers along her stomach, and she smiled as she rested her hand atop his.

"It will be a long day tomorrow, and it is late. We should get some sleep," he said as his hand stilled, coming to rest on her warm smooth flesh. She nodded and pulled a light blanket up to her chest.




Blessings of a Healer Ch. 04



"Sweet dreams," Ialia whispered.

"Nothing is as sweet as waking up next to you," he shot back.

"Hmm." She let out a small, pleased hum before she closed her eyes. When Azan fell asleep, his sleep was deep and dreamless, as if in his sated state, a dream was not the least bit necessary.



Blessings of a Healer Ch. 05



It'd been over a fortnight, and Ialia could see the passage of time in the way that the paths between the tents had gone past the point of being beaten-down grass, becoming thick dirt bands that wound every which way. Her feet trod one such path, and she resolutely ignored the severed heads that were impaled on pikes lining one side of the clearing.

Lord Haidien had a swift and brutal way of dealing with liars. She didn't know how he could be so certain of whether something uttered was a lie or truth, but the couple of interrogations she'd witnessed led her to believe that his deduction was correct, at least in these cases. She'd asked him - within the privacy of his tent, of course - how he knew. He would merely smile mysteriously and tell her that his abilities made him more sensitive to the subtle nuances in body language and tone. He'd even let her test him, alternating between truth and falsehood as she uttered random phrases, and he'd been right every single time.

The heads were in various stages of decay, depending on when they'd been killed, and flies buzzed around them. As a healer who had been taught about the importance of cleanliness, she couldn't help but feel disgusted, yet at the same time, as she spent more time with Azan, she came to understand certain aspects of his life as a warlord, and why he did certain things. Some of the men had been executed on the spot if Haidien deemed that they had no further use, others had been allowed to live for several days thinking they'd fooled Haidien into believing their lies only to discover he'd known their falsehoods all along while extracting further information from them.

It was getting late, and she'd spent a good part of her day looking after the women and giving treatment or advice as needed. The army healers seemed to be happy that the women were directing their needs to her instead of them. She barely garnered notice from the soldiers relaxing or milling outside as she wound her way between the tents and climbed to the peak of the hill, where Azan's own tent was.

She took off her healer's garb and reclined on the cushions, doing some reading of several books Azan had obtained for her while she drank some herbal tea, using hot water that Erze had already started in a pot over the fire before she came to the tent. With the Air magic she'd woven through Azan's own Fire magic around the tent, she could sense when people approached the tent, and just who. There was no denying Azan's magical aura, and she closed her book, looking up as he entered the tent.

"Greetings, my lord," Ialia said sweetly. He removed his mask, and shot her a handsome smile. She smiled back. "Is there anything you need?"

"Just the pleasure of your company," he shot back before he started to remove his armor. Nonetheless, she poured him a glass of wine, knowing he would welcome the libation. Once he was more comfortable, he sat next to her and took the proffered glass.

"The King has sent a new army to reclaim Emerald Hill," Azan said conversationally as he sipped his wine. He did not sound the least bit concerned about it.

"But you will not make such an endeavor easy."

Azan let out a short laugh. "I am making the endeavor impossible." He spoke with the easy confidence of a man who was both smart and practical. His self-assurance was the result of a honest assessment of his abilities and assets, and knowledge that he had ample resources and power. Over the last fortnight, even though she had no direct input in Haidien's decisions, nor did she spend much time around his generals, she'd gained a better understanding of how things worked around here.

"Of course," Ialia said as she poured herself some wine. They made some more talk, telling one another about what they'd done that day. Azan and his generals spent a good part of their days training the soldiers that had joined their cause. In the end, most of the King's soldiers had surrendered to them, and many of the men were young, inexperienced conscripts. Between gaining a huge addition to his army, and treating civilians fairly, Emerald Hill was firmly under the warlord's control, and was a more than suitable seat of power for the Earth Master. With such a prize in his grasp, Azan formed a chokehold on trade routes that led to areas still controlled by the King, diverting said supplies to feed and care for his own.

"You seem almost excited about it," she said as she sipped her wine. He chuckled at that.

"I have seen and experienced many battles. This will be one of the biggest yet, and my victory will severely cripple the King. This will be a major breaking point in his power."

She nodded again. More men for one's army was always good, whether they had magic or not. Azan had gained many Adepts, and several Mages, through his recent acquisition of soldiers. He had promised them training so they could master whatever abilities they had, in exchange for their loyalty, binding them to a magical vow.

"What do you plan to do once the King is defeated?" she asked.

Azan was silent, but he drew his thumb across his throat in a gesture that needed no explanation. Though Ialia knew she should have shuddered at that, especially with the fact that she was a healer and dedicated to help people, she could understand this tactic.

Elis and Erze drew a bath for her, and Azan heated the water. She sunk into it, letting the heat envelop her as Azan meditated by the fire, seeing things in it that only he was privy to. Opting to not immediately start washing herself, she lowered herself to the point where her chin was just touching the water, her knees breaking the surface. Having a lover skilled in Fire Magic certainly did have its benefits, she mused. The water was hot, just a tad more than she was used to, but after a minute, it was incredibly soothing.

Her hand drifted down to her groin, and she formed a loose grip around her cock before starting to pump it languidly, feeling it swell within her hand. Before she'd become reunited with Azan, she would occasionally indulge herself, so she was no stranger to the act. Her other hand slid down to squeeze and caress her balls for a few moments before going further south, two fingers sliding into her vagina. She'd not had sex with Azan for several days now, but did not hold it against him because she knew he had a lot of work to do. He often returned to the tent exhausted, simply wanting dinner and drink, sometimes a bath, and then sleep. He'd been wonderful to her, making she she was comfortable, and she would not make undue demands on him.

A soft sigh escaped her throat as her grip tightened, her hand pumping firmly as she rubbed her clit. She thought of her lover's hand around her cock, his own cock buried deep within her, and her enjoyment of her self-ministrations increased as she filled her mind with images of the pleasures they'd shared.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" a low, deep voice cut into her reverie. She opened her eyes to see Azan stand at the side of the tub, looking down at her. His expression was unreadable, and for a moment she feared she'd angered him somehow.

"Taking... care of myself," she whispered. He'd never told her to not do such a thing, nor did she think he'd care whether or not she did.

"Stop."

"... What? Why?"

"Do as I tell you, and sit up." Azan stated. Stunned, she slowly pulled her hands away from herself. He started to remove his shirt, and she was bewildered for a moment. The tub was barely big enough for him, let alone both of them.

He knelt by the side of the tub, and took the sponge from the stool that was within her reach, dipping it in the water and rubbing it along her shoulder.

He wants to wash me? she mused. It was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one, so she relaxed, enjoying his ministrations despite the fact that she still ached from arousal. He rubbed her shoulders and back in firm strokes, and she let out a small sigh of pleasure as she drew her knees up to her chest.

"Enjoy that?" he asked. She nodded eagerly before he moved to the back of her neck. Her hair had been pinned up in a bun, so this task was easy. Her sides soon enough came under the gentle assault, and his other hand came into play. He would wash a part of her with the sponge and some soap, before rubbing over the same area with his bare hand. His arms sunk into the water as he washed her lower back, and she shivered as she felt his breath near her ear. She turned her face to see his own, so close to her, and he smirked at her as he continued his actions. Finally, he stopped.

"I need to wash your front," he stated as he placed a kiss on her shoulder. She leaned back, her arms resting against the sides of the tub, and he washed her arms and collarbone. His hands were large and strong, and even with their calluses, it still felt good to be touched like this. By the time he reached her breasts, her nipples were already erect, and he did not miss this, giving each one a gentle pinch and roll between his fingers before he washed them, going in slow, firm circles. He moved down to her stomach, and washed it before he commanded her to stand up. As she did, she shivered, the cool air meeting her skin and causing it to break out in goosebumps. Azan did not miss this, and suddenly the fire grew brighter and hotter, raising the temperature in the tent to such a point that she was now comfortable naked.

"Turn around," he said. So she did, and she let out a small moan as he squeezed her rear end, lingering on it as he washed it, his fingers gently digging into her flesh as he savored their firmness. His hands slid between her thighs, but he did not touch her intimate parts, even though he did come oh so close. When his fingers drew away to wash the back of her thighs, she let out a frustrated whimper, still hard and throbbing. A soft chuckle met her hears as her legs continued to be washed. When the time came to wash her lower legs, he had her raise one leg at a time, then the other, as she placed a hand on his shoulder for leverage as he washed her calves and feet. Finally, the only part of her that was left to wash was her privates, and he turned her back to face him.

She shuddered as the sponge finally made contact with her cock, and he gave it the same kind of rubbing that he did for the rest of her. He was a bit gentler when he guided the sponge between her legs, having her raise one knee for easier access as he made sure that every part of her was clean.

Finally, he discarded the sponge, soaking it in the water, before squeezing it and setting it aside.

"Did you enjoy that?" he whispered as he leaned in to kiss her stomach. She moaned softly and ran her fingers through his hair, nodding.

"Good. I want you to return the favor," he replied as he looked up at her. "You're a Water Master, so you know how to clean that water?" he asked as he gestured to the tub. She nodded and stepped out as Azan took off his pants and stood before her, a glorious sight. As if he could read her mind, he smirked at her.

She held her hand over the water, closing her eyes and focusing on it, sensing out the impurities caused by the soap, and her own dead skin cells among other things. It was one of the most basic things taught in Water magic; even an Adept could do it, though the weaker one's magic was, the less water they could clean at a time.

The impurities drifted to the bottom, held in place by a thin film of water that would hold it there for as long as she commanded it. Azan heated the water again, but did not climb into it. Though he kept himself clean, she didn't miss that she'd never seen him use a bath tub. As a child, he hadn't much cared for going for swims, unless the day was truly hot.

She picked up the sponge and soap, and started working him slowly and methodically, going in the same order Azan had when he washed her. He did have a very nice body, and it gave her a small thrill to wash and massage him, using her magic to make sure the water in the sponge absorbed any dirt, grime, or sweat from his skin before squeezing out the sponge and repeating the process.

He was a tall and powerful man, with broad shoulders and chest, and it gave her no small thrill to feel the coiled muscles in his arms. He certainly filled out his armor well, making for an intimidating sight as Haidien, destroyer of the King's rule. Every part of him that she washed showed that raw physical strength, from the calluses in his hands, to the thick muscles in his thighs and calves. She saved one part for last, and by the time she got to it, he was already semi-erect. She washed it with ease before moving to his sac and cleaning the rest of him.

Though he was now clean, there was still a faint scent that reminded her of freshly-turned earth, hovering at the very edge of her olfactory senses. She reached down to idly stroke his erection, which had come to fullness when she washed it.

He gently grasped her arm, leading over over to the bed, and she did not resist as he pulled her down.

"There have been many things I wanted in life." He leaned back, pulling her hand in for a kiss as he looked up at her. "You know I am passionate about my cause, and you understand why," he stated, and she nodded. He'd told her stories about his time in the King's army, the things he'd seen and endured, and how he'd made his escape. The things she'd heard had served to make her considerably more sympathetic to the Revolution than she would have thought, and she knew that her loyalty now firmly belonged to Azan.

"You know you have my support," she whispered back as he placed several kisses along her arm.

"I do not doubt that," he replied as he kissed his way up her shoulder. "But you are what I have longed for most," he continued as he kissed up her neck, whispering heatedly into her ear. "Knowing you're here, waiting for me at the end of the day, makes life so much better." He placed kisses along her face. "Often I had imagined what it would be like to be reunited with you, to see the beautiful woman I knew you would become, to be with you again..."

She cupped his face with her hands, giving him a warm, wistful smile. "You're not the only one who wished for us to be together again." She brushed several loose strands of hair from his face. "When the soldiers took you away, I was crushed," she admitted. It was the first time either of them had specifically spoken about that terrible day. "I couldn't believe they were doing it. I wanted to cry. I did cry, later." She blinked back tears as she remembered that day. "When I learned to master my magic and tried to find you, and I couldn't..." The tears broke free.

o0o

"We will not be parted again," Azan reassured her as he lowered his head again to kiss the tears away from her cheeks. "The King's army had, and I don't doubt, still has mages who are tasked to find runaway soldiers. This fact was impressed on all the conscripts. Concealing myself from magical detection was one of the first things I taught myself."

Azam remembered the mages walking along the rows of conscripts, sniffing out those who had any magical ability. They'd said that those with magical ability would be elevated from a mere soldier and placed under their personal tutelage, regardless of the kind or level of ability they had. The King valued mages, they said, and those who served well would be amply rewarded.

He had zero desire to commit himself, or his abilities to the King. He'd known about his magic for a long time, though more on an instinctual then an intellectual level. His effort to hide his magic was almost involuntary, and it wasn't until the mages passed him over had he realized that he'd been able to hide it from them. The next step had been to figure out how to conceal his entire being, not just his abilities, and he'd succeeded in that, obviously.

It wasn't until later on that he learned just how strong his magic was, because generally, that kind of advanced concealment was only achievable by those of Master-level magic.

"I had to keep myself hidden from anyone who might try to find me. You can imagine that I have quite the bounty on my head," he said with a rueful chuckle. "Of course, if I had known you were looking for me, I'd have sent you a hand-written invitation." This comment brought a faint smile to her face, and he smiled back, kissing away what remained of her tears.

"We're together now, so no more crying, hm?" he asked gently as he caressed her cheek with his thumb. She nodded, and he gently nudged her knees apart. She took this cue to relax and spread herself further apart, letting him position himself comfortably on his knees, placing his hands on her hips and lifting them, holding her in place as he slid into her. She arched and squirmed a bit with a contented moan, her arms loosely stretched over her head.

Maintaining his grip on her hips, he slid in and out several times, enjoying the way she felt around him, and the way she responded to his ministrations, and the way she looked up at him, with affection and desire. Her cock bobbed a bit with each thrust, and he looked down at it for several moments, giving her several firm thrusts as he did so.

"I want you to stroke yourself," Azan finally commanded as he looked back at her face. She nodded, her left hand going down to caress herself, slowly at first, her fingertips lightly stroking the shaft. He continued his thrusting, maintaining a slow, relaxed pace, wanting to enjoy this. It'd been several days since he'd had sex with her, although it certainly wasn't for lack of desire. The sight of her pleasuring herself, while he was gaining pleasure from her body, was a unique experience, and one he found more than enjoyable.

"You like seeing this?" Ialia whispered almost shyly, and he nodded.

"Why do you think I asked you to do this?" he asked with a small smile.

"You told me to stop before, I wasn't sure if I displeased you..."

"Never," he whispered as he continued his thrusting, going at a slow enough pace that conversation was easy. "I just wanted to share your pleasure." He bent over to rain kisses along her shoulders and breasts, hearing her pleased sigh as he took a nipple into his mouth.

"I thought you were too tired before. I know that you have a lot of work to do, I didn't want to make any demands on you, so I thought it would be easier for me to just... attend to myself."

"Ialia, has anyone ever told you you're too nice for your own good?" he asked with a faint smirk as he raised his head to look at her. He'd always been the one to initiate sex, and she'd submitted to his desires without complaint. Before she could reply, he continued, "I didn't bring you here to be my toy. You're my companion, and I care for your needs. Have I not showed that?" he chided gently.

"You have been wonderful to me," she acknowledged as she reached up with her free hand to cup his cheek, her thumb running along his cheekbone. "Believe me, I'm happy to be with you. I want to stay with you and serve you in whatever way you need."

"You're not a servant," he firmly reminded her. "That may be what others think, but you should know better than that." He kissed the palm of her hand. "Never be afraid to ask things of me, or speak your mind. You know this is a safe place," he reminded her. He appreciated that outside of the tent, she behaved appropriately, and only gave her counsel in private. She made no attempt to lord her position over others, as some arrogant concubines or soldiers might do if they thought they held the favor of someone in power.

"Besides, what's the worst I can do? Say no?" he asked lightly, and she giggled a little.

"If I ask you to fuck me harder, will you do that?"

"You have but to ask." He sucked her other nipple a bit before straightening up again and increasing his pace, seeing her face become a mask of pleasure as she started pumping herself more firmly in tune with his accelerated speed. When he saw her eyes start to roll in the back of her head, he spoke again.




Blessings of a Healer Ch. 05



"Stop touching yourself."

"... What?" She continued to pump, and he smirked.

"You heard me. Place your hands above your head."

Ialia swallowed as she stared at him, but she obeyed, reluctantly releasing the grip she had on herself and holding her hands together above her head. He continued riding her in long, hard thrusts, his fingers digging into the juncture where her legs joined her hips as he felt his orgasm start within the very pit of his belly and groin before he felt it explode into her. She clenched around him, pressing her groin against his and wiggling her hips as he spasmed a bit against and within her, his shoulders shaking slightly.

One of his hands slid up her side, gently cupping the side of her breast for a moment before touching her face. One of her hands went up to rest atop his, and he slowly pulled out of her, lowering her rear end back on the bed before reclining at her side. She pulled his hand down from her face, and led it to her groin, and he smirked down at her. She batted her eyes at him, and he chuckled at that.

"Now that's more like it," he whispered, welcoming her assertiveness as he wrapped his hand around her and started pumping her firmly. She slumped against the bedding in enjoyment and relief, and he lowered his head to place kisses along her face. She kissed him back, catching his lips and sucking on the lower one, causing him to groan softly in pleasure. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her hands caressing and rubbing his back at times as their make-out session intensified, lips now battling for dominance.

A soft whimper escaped into his mouth as he felt her stiffen, sensing that she was near orgasm. He continued his firm pumping, using her precum as a bit of lubricant, and felt her bite down gently on his tongue as she orgasmed, her essence spilling onto his hand and spurting onto his stomach.

He gave her several more careful pumps, ensuring that she thoroughly enjoyed her orgasm, before he released his grip on her and disengaged himself from her embrace. Reclining back on the pillows, he glanced down at himself, seeing several gobs of her release on his stomach, and more on his hand. As she watched, he started licking his fingers clean.

"Clean my stomach," he commanded gently as he sucked his thumb clean. Instead of fetching the sponge, she lowered her head and started licking him, drawing a surprised but pleased groan from him. She reminded him of a cat licking up drops of cream as she ran her tongue along his abdominal muscles.

He was tempted to rouse himself for another round of lovemaking, but decided to hold off as he watched her complete her task. There would be more than enough time in the future for them to continue to strengthen their intimate bond, and at the moment, he was happy to simply set aside thoughts and worries about the revolution and current and upcoming issues and simply bask in the afterglow of their shared pleasure. Azan smirked to himself as he stared up at the ceiling, feeling Ialia cuddle up next to him.

o0o

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Blessings of a Healer Ch. 06



Blessings of a Healer

VI

o0o

Azan looked handsome as he slept, and Ialia smiled faintly to herself as she studied his features. His hair was pulled back in a loose braid, and his recently-trimmed beard did nothing to hide the strong planes of his jaw and chin. Ialia could not help but feel a twinge of arousal as her eyes moved to his chest, eyeing the sculpted muscles through his partially-open shirt. It'd been several days since they'd had any form of intimacy, due to how busy they had been in preparation for the upcoming battle.

Azan not only had the task of overseeing the training of his soldiers – fresh and experienced alike – but also the magical education of his new recruits. He already had a few mages of varying abilities in his army, but of course, the fresh crop of soldiers he'd acquired from his capture of the King's troops added more to that number. Out of his combined army, he now had a little over a score of magicians. Most of them were only Adepts, but there were a few Mages. Regardless of their level of potential, Azan welcomed each and every one of them into his elite ranks of sorcerers.

Azan made the best use of each man, assigning them to tasks best suited to their abilities. Magicians were usually kept away from the battlefield, but Azan had learned how to use his own magic for offensive and defensive strategies on the battlefield. With his master over Earth, Azan could channel energy into his own men, and drain it from those on the opposing side. Of course, even a Master could only perform so much magic at a time, so his mages helped him, pooling their energies for him to use as he saw fit.

One might wonder how this man could make others so loyal to him. Doubtless the King would scratch his head over the fact that while his generals had to force men into the King's army, these very men would willingly serve another and fight for him?

Azan could be very persuasive. He'd wrought a silver-tongued persona as Haidien, and it was almost hard for Ialia to believe that her lover, and the boy she'd played and wrestled with as a child, who had been more prone to cursing and coarse language than the respectful attitude expected of children towards their elders, could possess such charisma. With the King's conscripts gathered around him, he told them of his own conscription, and how he'd vowed to end the King's rule. It was not the least bit difficult to ride on the sentiment of embittered men who had been torn from their families and livelihoods to serve a King that was but the last in a lone of rulers who'd grown increasingly worse with each generation.

The men could desert him, and go back to their families, Haidien pointed out. But if they did, the King would remain a malignant force in their lives. As long as he ruled, the freedom of every honest, hard-working citizen was threatened. If they helped him overthrow the dynasty, they could become masters of their own fate.

So Haidien's ranks swelled as the King's own diminished. Physically, Haidien's army truly was formidable. With strategic placement of divisions, Haidien and his generals were able to capture the supplies they needed to keep the army fed and happy. Once this pivotal battle was over, little would stand in the mighty Haidien's way of advancing onto the capitol and ending the King's weakening rule once and for all. With their magic, Azan and his elite were able to collect information not available by conventional means. The King's army was walking into what was almost a trap. They were being led by the King's second son, who would be a prize in his own right for Haidien to have in his custody.

There'd been so much of planning, and discussion. Ialia was naturally excluded from the formal meetings, but Azan kept her abreast of the situation within the privacy of his tent.

She placed light kisses along his chest, inhaling the natural scent of his body as she did so. She reveled in the warmth and strength that exuded from his form, taking comfort in it, and allowing Azan to have from her whatever he wanted. Not that she minded of course, for what was given, was returned with much satisfaction to both parties.

Her fingers trailed along the sculpted abs of his lower stomach, and she glanced at his face, seeing that he was deep in slumber. Well, wouldn't this be a pleasant way to wake him up?

Carefully, she pulled down the blanket to his thighs, so she could go about her plans with ease, and slowly untied the drawstring of his pants.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes and jerked himself to a sitting position, causing her to gasp softly and pull back, thinking she'd angered him. He blinked and looked down at her before glancing at the entrance to the tent.

"Is something the matter?" she asked quietly. Then she sensed it, someone walking past the barrier that had been set around the tent.

"My lord," she heard Staber's voice call out. "Have I permission to enter?"

Azan was quick on his feet, and tying his shirt shut. She followed suit, throwing on a robe over her nightshirt before moving to one corner of the tent, ostensibly to grind some herbs or do something else healer-related. She positioned herself so that the most Staber would see of her was her side, and busied herself with going through the herbs she'd collected or bought the day before.

"Enter," Azan boomed.

Staber barely glanced at her before addressing his lord. "There is someone here to see you. A nobleman, from the looks of it, with his own entourage of a dozen and all." The man's voice held an undercurrent of disdain, and Ialia knew why. Staber had come from an impoverished family, one among countless, who had been systematically oppressed by the upper classes. It was no wonder he was so loyal to Haidien – a man working to bring an end to the rule of the King and his peons – and not only that, but under Haidien, Staber was treated fairly, his background given no mind when he was given responsibilities and privileges. He was loyal to Haidien almost to a fault.

"I am intrigued," Azan said, stroking his beard. Staber stood there impassively, his hands at his sides. "Not intrigued enough to grant him an immediate audience, however."

Staber smiled tightly. "I suspected as much, my lord, but I would never presume to make assumptions about your actions. What are your orders?"

"I will break my fast first." He paused. "Has he eaten?"

"Not that I have seen, my lord."

"Good. Do not offer him any of our food. I'm not prepared to have him as a guest until I can assess his motives. Doubtless he brought his own provisions, nonetheless?"

"He has," Staber confirmed. "I have set guards over him. Five of our men for every one of theirs."

One might have considered that overkill, but Haidien was a prudent man, and preferred to leave nothing to chance.

"Very good. You may leave."

Once the man was gone, Azan went about getting dressed for the day, and Ialia watched him silently. If he needed help, he would ask her for it, but he was able to put on his armor by himself, strapping this or that on with relative ease that came from long practice.

"I know you have your duties, my lord, but I wish our morning hadn't come to such an abrupt end," Ialia commented as she rose to her feet. Her lover smirked faintly as he looked at her.

"So that explains why you were at my pants when I woke up," he shot back lightly.

"Well, you looked very appealing when you were sleeping. Could I help myself?" She batted her eyes at him, and his smirk broke into a wide grin.

"I certainly hope not!" He looked at her warmly. "But, just because you were unable to give me a good morning doesn't mean you can't give me a good night..."

"Is that so?"

His face tightened somewhat into a more sober expression. "I can't promise anything, with all that has been going on. But believe me, I want more than anything to spend some time with you, and not have to think about what's out there." He strode past the firepit and stood in front of her, touching her face.

"I believe you." Under the firm, even ruthless persona of Haidien, was the boy she'd grown up with. She touched his hand. "Sometimes I wonder what things would have been like, if you hadn't been taken away..."

He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Things happen for a reason. I've been through a lot, and not a day went by that I did not think of you. It would have been nice if there was peace... if the King wasn't such an unfit ruler. But someone has to stand against him, and if I had not been taken away at that time, I suspect I would be dragged away sooner or later."

"You're right," Ialia conceded. She'd seen other men in their home village taken away from their wives and children, pressed into service under the threat of the safety of their families. His thumb caressed her cheek, and she felt his lips press to her forehead.

"Until then," Azan whispered, giving her a fond smile before he was gone.

o0o

The sky was overcast, threatening to spill rain at any moment, and a simple canopy had been erected for the meeting. He stared at the other man, noting his nervousness. Mitterford Tul, despite his wealth, seemed like he had not eaten well as of late. His companions on the other hand were on the whole more robust-looking.

The nobleman was slight of build, and balding, with a bit of a belly that was visible under his jerkin. Despite his efforts to remain calm and collected, Lord Tul could not help but drum his fingers against his knee on occasion, or jiggle his foot. Azan could see that his very presence intimidated the other man, and smirked under his mask, knowing that he could use this to his advantage, if needed.

Azan sat facing the nobleman, studying him and his group. It was to be expected that someone like Lord Tul would be nervous about coming face to face with the mighty Haidien, and Tul's guards also showed some unease, but none as much as the lord himself. He allowed Tul to sit for several moments in uncomfortable silence before he spoke.

"I am not one of your king's lords, nor do I have need for formalities," Azan spoke, his voice coming out in the grating rumble he reserved for such occasions. "Dispensing of useless talk would be more conductive to these proceedings."

"So... I should simply give you the King's terms?" Lord Tul asked, his face showing a mixture of confusion and relief. His voice was slightly reedy, which given his appearance, was befitting.

"Please do," Haidien said, his voice neutral. As he did, Haidien studied Lord Tul's guards. A few were looking at their lord, the rest were looking at their surroundings, and he was among these. He smirked under his mask, having no doubt that he would be talked about once their mission was over.

Mitterford nodded, and pulled out a folded piece of paper from his doublet. With a flick of his wrist, he opened the document. "Shall I dispense with the crimes you have been charged with, and simply skip ahead..."

Haidien raised his eyebrow. Well, at least Mitterford remembered what he had said about going right to the terms.

"I am already well aware of what the King considers my misdeeds, so yes, dispense with them."

"Yes, sir." Mitterford cleared his throat as his eyes quickly scanned the document. "You are to surrender to the Prince when he comes to Emerald Hill. You are to renounce your conquests and spoils. The cities and lands under your control automatically revert back to the Kingdom. Your men will be given a chance to swear allegiance to the King, via the Prince. You will kneel before the Prince and ask him to pardon your crimes."

Haidien had to hold back a snort, and it seemed that even Mitterford was aware of how ridiculous these terms sounded. He continued.

"In exchange, your men will be spared, and earn their pardon by serving the King, and their families will be spared. Anyone who refuses to do so will be executed." Mitterford paused as he stared at the paper for a moment before he spoke again.

"Once you kneel to the Prince, you will accompany him back to the Capitol, where you will kneel to the King. You will then be permitted to live out the rest of your life, using your abilities to aid the King, instead of defying him."

Azan saw the trap before Mitterford finished his sentence. Once in the Capitol, nothing would stop the King from taking him prisoner and executing him, or torturing him.

King Giardhin XI was known to be a petty and vengeful man, who believed in his divine right to rule. With nearly three dozen kings preceding him, and sharing his name with the founder of the dynasty, Giardhin would not let one such as the mighty Haidien present any sort of threat to his rule. For a man who truly believed in a god-given right to rule, any possibility of him losing his crown had to be met with swift retribution.

Of course, Haidien was not so easily taken down. For the last five years, the rebel had been a constant thorn in Giardhin XI's side, eluding capture, his army and holdings increasing with a surety that Haidien didn't doubt led to many sleepless nights for the King. He'd never met Giardhin, and could only imagine the worry and rage that the despotic ruler must feel at every piece of news he received over the loss of a city or even town, and the desertion of his own soldiers, the situation exacerbated by these very same soldiers joining Haidien's side.

Haidien beckoned to Mitterford. "Come walk with me."

Mitterford blinked and swallowed as he folded the paper. His guards stirred.

"You will not need companions," Haidien added in a firm tone. Lord Tul blanched, and swallowed, but gave a feeble nod, waving his men back as he followed Haidien from under the canopy. The air was nippy, with a breeze that caused Lord Tul to shiver.

"The King has no intentions of letting me have my freedom," Haidien said. There was no questioning tone in his voice.

Lord Tul let out a slow breath, but offered no argument.

"And if any of my men kneel to the Prince, even if they are allowed to keep their lives, will be branded in one way or another as traitors to Giardhin. He will make them pay for their 'treason' sooner or later."

Tul remained silent, his hands folded in front of him.

"Have you nothing to say?"

"What can I say, sir?"

"An argument? Affirmation? Reminding me of my duty?"

Tul offered him a thin smile.

"I had us come out here, so that we could have a truthful conversation. The men with you are to report everything they see or hear."

Tul bowed his head in acquiescence. "I have heard many things about you, Haidien."

"Many are falsehoods, but at least a few are probably true. I have no intent to harm you, Sir Tul, if you feel likewise about me. Unlike your lord, I am a man of my word."

"I would be exceedingly stupid to try anything -"

"But your men have been told to take any opportunity they have to kill me."

Tul blinked, but offered no argument. "Not on my orders." Haidien sensed he was telling the truth.

"And if I were to be killed, you know my own men would retaliate, and you..." His words hung in the air. Mitterford Tul was expendable to his King and Prince. He wondered what this nobleman had done to be so little valued.

"The Prince did not say as such when he sent me on this mission, but I could figure..."

They continued their casual stroll. Their meeting had started near the foot of the hill, in an open space. Tents and temporary shacks sat in semi-ordered rows and clusters along the facets of the hill, paths well-worn from a month of occupancy. Water and food was plentiful as long as both were wisely managed. Emerald Hill was far from a poor place for him to hold his base of operations, and the King well knew it.

"And what is your impression of me?" Haidien asked.

"I'm not quite sure. I mean, I've heard so many things about you, and I met you less than half an hour ago. So far though, you've been... a decent person."

Haidien let out a small chuckle. "What do you think would happen when you return to the Prince with my refusal?"

"To be honest, I do not believe that the Prince really expects you to accept these terms. But Giardhin would think that it would look good for him and his son, if they made a display of generosity."

"Generosity. Hah."

Lord Tul shrugged in agreement. "The Prince is wise enough to not kill the messenger. At least, I hope."

"He might not do it by his own hand, but..."

"What?" Tul's eyes widened in shock.

"Make an overture of generosity to the fearsome Haidien. Offer him forgiveness and mercy, and when he decides to kill the messenger, why, it will only prove what an uncouth and barbaric person he is, and how right the King is to obliterate him."

"You wouldn't..." Tul caught himself as he realized just what was being said, and his already-pale face became ashen.

"Is there something you did in the past that upset the King or Prince?"

"N.... not that I can think of." Tul rubbed his chest, as if suffering from heartburn. "I've never been favored by the royal family, but I was always wise enough to..." he stopped himself.

"Wise enough to what?" Haidien pressed. Tul stared at him for several moments.

"Bite back my disagreements."

"Around someone like Giardhin, I would think that very wise. Perhaps you said something to someone else, that got to Giardhin's ear."

"I doubt it. You've never met him, but I have. Multiple times. You know the saying that we should listen twice as much as we talk, because we have two ears, but one mouth? Well, we also have two eyes. I learned at a young age that it was better to use my eyes and ears than my mouth... though that doesn't seem as if it's going to do me good now, is it?" His voice took on a sudden edge of bitterness.

Like Tul, Azan was well aware of the value of listening, and watching.

"What has been done to you? Were you cheated out of money? Land?" he asked. Tul quickly looked down at the ground and shook his head, looking distinctly uncomfortable. He might be good at being silent, but the emotions on his face, and within his body language, were almost as clear as spoken words. Thus was this man's weakness.

"Something more personal, I take it." Haidien paused, thinking of what he'd heard about the Prince. "He has taken someone to bed that you care about. Your... wife, perhaps."

The pinkening of Tul's cheeks was his answer.

"You have two options. You can go back with your men... though they're not really your men, are you?" A shake of the head was the answer. "Or you can stay here with me."

Haidien knew that it would be foolish to let such a valuable source of information be wasted.

"... Stay with you? In what capacity?" Tul asked, politeness partially masking his nervousness.

"Officially, as a prisoner. A hostage, if you will. Unofficially, as an adviser."

Tul tapped his thumbs against one another, his hands still resting against his stomach. He was silent for a couple of moments. "I suppose I don't have much choice, do I?"

"There is always a choice."

Tul looked up at him, his blue eyes watery. "I am not trying to insult your generosity, Sir Haidien. But choosing between life and what is almost certainly death..."

Haidien shrugged. "The choice is yours."

Several minutes later, the pair returned to the canopy. Haidien had the royal document in his hand, and he stared at Tul's soldiers, shoulders squared.

"Your Highnesses insult me with these paltry terms. I will not take this affront, and for compensation – at least partial – I am taking Lord Mitterford Tul as my hostage!"

"You can't-" one of the men stepped forward. He was a tall fellow, and as Haidien had already deduced, the leader of this cadre. He stopped himself, looking like someone had just jerked on an invisible leash. "We are only messengers, and came in peace."

"Which is why I am permitting you to leave in peace." Haidien held the paper aloft for a moment before swiftly tearing it into half, then again into several smaller pieces. "I do not fear your Prince or King. Let them come at me!"




Blessings of a Healer Ch. 06



o0o

So Haidien now had a nobleman as his hostage. Despite her time with Azan, Ialia couldn't help but find ways to be impressed with him. The news had reached her after she'd finished collecting herbs and berries in the woods at one side of the hill, and she'd been introduced to the man over the evening sup. He seemed like a nice enough man, somewhat bewildered by his change in circumstance, but holding up nonetheless. He'd picked at his stew and nibbled at his bread, and had but one cup of wine, asking for water after he'd finished the alcoholic beverage.

She was now within the confines of Azan's tent, writing notes and observations about her work that day. Much of medicine was based on superstition, and Ialia was doing her best to sift through which lore had actual basis on it, and what she could dismiss as hogwash. Since she'd left the abbey, she'd spent much of her time observing other healers at work, and listening to them as well as the patients. Slowly but surely she was building up a database of herbs and remedies that she knew actually worked, and how much of this or that proved the most effective.

Having magic certainly helped in the field of healing, but she wanted to make the information accessible, as less than one in fifty people had any sort of magical ability at all, and most of them only a touch. She muttered to herself as she made a notation before she stoppered her inkpot and cleaned her quill.

She chose to recline in front of the fire for a while, simply relaxing and meditating. The flames danced cheerfully as she added a log to the pit, and she reclined back on a cushion, clad in a comfortable robe that had likely been raided from some noblewoman's wardrobe.

As a healer who traveled a lot within the city, she was given to more practical clothing, utilizing tunics or short dresses with pants and boots, and jackets or cloaks as the weather called for, her rucksack full of herbs and medical paraphernalia strapped to her back. The money she earned went towards practical necessities, and she never would have thought to buy something as nice as this, but she would be the last one to complain if her lover wanted to give her this gift. She certainly liked the way the gold-embroidered satin felt against her body when she ran her hands along her hips.

The dark-haired woman was silent as Azan entered the tent, stripping himself of his outer gear and setting it aside. He stepped out of his boots, and padded across the rugs that covered the ground to a trunk, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and two cups.

Taking a sip and savoring the burn of the alcohol as it slid down her throat, Ialia listened to Azan as he spoke. There was some rumination about the upcoming battle, and then some juicy bits about the King and his court, as recently learned from Lord Tul.

"And apparently, the Prince makes a game of cuckolding the lords. Some of the women, he beds only once, just for the pleasure of a notch on his bedpost. Others, he will go to multiple times, if they're especially lovely, though in time he bores of them. And of course, the lords can do nothing about it, and pray that their wives resist his advances. Such a prayer usually goes unheeded, because who says no to the Prince?"

"I don't see why this should have affected Lord Tul so... profoundly. What has he done to make the Prince and King want him dead? Surely the Prince doesn't try to dispose of every man he makes a cuckold of?"

"You know how there's people that you just don't like? Perhaps a relative, or a neighbor, or a business acquaintance, or some such? They might not be rude to you, or deserve personal scorn, but you dislike them nonetheless. It would seem that Tul is one of these people that the King simply dislikes."

"What ill luck."

Azan smirked. "What good luck, for me." He took a sip of his whiskey. "But enough of such matters." His head lolled back, and he looked up at the top of the tent for several moments. Finishing her whiskey, she set the cup down and moved over to him, nestling at his side. He was a handsome man, and she studied him quietly as he ate. At sixteen, he'd already been tall, but he'd been more lanky. A decade of various grueling experiences, as well as his own self-discipline, had molded him into a man with a body that most women wanted to be pressed against, and most men wanted to be. His raven-hued hair was loose at the moment, and somewhat rumpled, giving him an appearance she found appealing in a raw way.

She heard a quick hum of approval before an arm draped along her shoulders, squeezing her tight. After he took another sip, her hand slid to his knee before making its way up his thigh and finding the drawstring of his trousers. When he offered no protest, she loosened it before reaching inside, finding the flesh that was now familiar to her.

Azan shifted position, loosening his pants by a fraction with his movements. His cock already started to stiffen before she pulled it out from the fabric, and she started to give it firm, slow strokes.

"Yes." Azan sighed, his free hand now stroking her hair, running his fingers along her scalp and on occasion sliding them under her hair, which was only loosely bound in a ponytail. As her strokes became pumps, she felt his lips lazily move along her forehead and temple before moving down to her cheek.

"Have I ever told you how much I enjoy your body?" Ialia whispered back as she traced the sensitive opening at the tip of his cock with a fingernail, feeling it already slick with precum.

"It never hurts to remind me." His hand slid back to her shoulder as he squeezed it, pressing her to the side of his body as she continued her ministrations, her hand sliding down to cup and massage his sac, feeling its weight.

"Very well then," Ialia commented with a faint grin. "You have grown into quite a strong and handsome man. I look forward to the nights because I can be pressed against you, and touch you."

"Mmm." Azan finished his drink and set the cup aside, reaching down to cup and massage her breast through the satin. Her hand moved up to just above his manhood, where she gave the thick black hair there a teasing tug. He responded by giving her breast a firmer squeeze. She took a slow breath as she felt the sensation, his touch seeming to reach down to the very pit of her stomach.

"And what would you like to do tonight, my dear?" he asked, his voice husky with need. Her hand moved up, her finger trailing a circle around his navel, the linen of his shirt resting on the back of her hand.

"The mighty Haidien is going to let a woman decide for him?" Ialia teased. Her hand reached up further to find a nipple, the pad of her finger sliding along the little nub. His hands slid down to her waist, pulling her into his lap so that she straddled him, his erection now pressing against her upper pelvis. She placed her other hand on his stomach, using it to pull up his shirt to his underarms, revealing an expanse of flesh that was bronze under the firelight, and a light scattering of dark hair down his solar plexus.

Her hands made several up and down circuits along his torso, her palms exerting gentle pressure as she did so, feeling his breathing and heartbeat every time she neared his upper chest. He smiled faintly and raised his hands over his head. Taking the hint, she tugged his shirt off and tossed it aside.

The dancing lights from the fire highlighted the curving ridges of his biceps, and the muscles that connected his torso to his shoulders.

"Gods, the very sight of you makes me wet," Ialia breathed.

"Shall I verify that statement?" he rumbled, one hand reaching down to untie the sash and reach into her robe, probing the apex of her thighs, his questing fingers quickly locating the source of her wetness. He firmly rubbed the opening several times before sliding two fingers inside, and she moaned and arched against him, her cock sliding free from her loosened robe as it stiffened.

She placed her hands on his chest and lifted her pelvis by a couple of centimeters, so it was easier for his hand to reach between their bodies and continue its work.

"Azaaaaan..."

He observed her with an indulgent smile. "Of course, I didn't think you were lying to me. I simply needed an excuse to touch you."

"You don't need an excuse to touch me."

"Oh, is that so?" His other hand reached for her stiff flesh, forming a firm but careful grip around it. She moaned and pressed herself down and forward. He glanced at the space between their bodies for a moment before releasing his grip on her, and she shivered as her cock throbbed afresh with need, bereft of his touch. She wiggled forward, bringing her organ in contact with his own, the undersides pressing together as she did so. Her eyes met his own as she started to thrust herself against him slowly, her hips swaying against his hand and manhood.

"You're really in need, aren't you?" Azan asked in a purring drawl.

"Do you even need to ask?" Ialia responded with a small huff, pressing forward more firmly.

He grinned at her before his hand found her again, this time wrapping his fingers around both of them.

"My, you have your hands full, don't you?" Ialia asked, squirming a bit as she felt him continue to finger her, delving into her tightness as he pumped them in a steady yet languid rhythm. She leaned down to kiss him, feeling him respond eagerly as his lips sucked on her own, drawing her further into the kiss as he hooked his fingers, finding the spot deep within her womanhood that never ceased to cause her entire groin to throb when he pressed his fingers against it.

"Tell me what you want, Ialia. I am yours," he growled against her lips as he hooked and thrust his fingers more aggressively. She let out a small laugh.

"What I want? It would seem that you are the one in charge of this situation." She reached up with one hand to run her fingers through his hair.

"Yes. I am your master... but I am also your slave," Azan replied as his eyes met hers, the dark pools reflecting his inner fire as he continued to manipulate her. Despite the overwhelming physical sensations, a small part of her consciousness managed to remain coherent. There was something she'd wanted for a while, but never seemed to find the right opportunity to ask for it. She had not missed the fact that sometimes, when her lover came to bed, he seemed to be in a more submissive mood, as if being in charge of thousands of men, and their welfare resting upon him and the myriad decisions he made, weighed heavily upon him. It was at these times that he seemed to not want to make any decisions, and was content to let her guide their pleasure.

It wasn't something she had noticed with the intent to exploit him. As a healer, she'd been trained to not only recognize physical symptoms, but mental and emotional ones.

"... So, I have but to ask?" she whispered hotly into his ear, nibbling along his earlobe as she clenched around his fingers.

"Your wish is my command."

"I wish for you to pleasure me."

"Gladly."

She smirked a little before she brought her face back into view of his gaze. "I want you to pleasure me... in the same way I pleasure you."

His face went blank for a moment as her words sunk in.

"I see the way your face looks when I take you into my mouth. I want to know how it feels to have a tongue slide down my shaft... and to have my organ in something hot and wet." Her voice became firmer even as she maintained a purr. "I've never experienced such a sensation... so I remain a virgin in a way. Who better than you to give my virginity to?"

His hands stilled, though they remained where they were. "This is something you really want?"

"Mmm. Yes. For a while now." She looked down at him, wondering what he would ultimately decide. She couldn't force him to do anything, nor did she wish to. Yet at the same time, she wanted him to do this for her, and she knew she would be disappointed if he didn't.

Without a word, he eased her off his lap, and she did not ask him what he was doing. She would wait and see, and watched him as he pulled himself to his knees, his erection bobbing amidst the opening of his pants.

His hands found the edges of her robe, and he pulled them apart to reveal the entire front of her body.

o0o

The shadows cast by the fire made Ialia's skin seem almost starkly pale despite the muted light. His eyes moved along what was now the familiar sight of her nude form. Small but perky breasts tipped with light pink nipples segued into the delicate plane of her stomach and then pelvis, where a neatly-trimmed patch of dark hair led his eye toward what made her unique from other women.

She wanted him to pleasure her. It was hardly an unfair request, yet oddly, it was one he hadn't considered before. Even though Azan had come to accept her uniqueness, she was first and foremost a woman, and he'd taught himself to not dwell on that part of her which made her more than simply a woman. Of course, during intimacy, especially when this part of her body was within view, he was freshly reminded of it.

He draped himself over her, pressing his lips to her own. Her hands reached up to cup his face before running her fingers through his hair, as her lips parted to admit his tongue. The taste of whiskey lingered on her tongue, and he boldly traced the edges of it with the tip of his own. His hands reached up to her cheeks, caressing her temples and then cheeks with his thumbs before moving down to her neck and shoulders. His lips followed a similar direction, tasting her jawline before moving to the hollow of her neck where the collarbones met.

"Azan..." she sighed, wiggling against him. Her fingers combed though his hair before coming to rest on his shoulders and neck.

"Mmm." He moved to one nipple and then the other, massaging the breast that he wasn't sucking. Her thighs pressed against his sides, and as he moved lower, he would feel her erection prod him on occasion, each point higher on his body than before, giving him less than subtle reminders of what she wanted of him. His tongue teasingly flicked around her navel as one of his hands caressed her inner thigh.

He never would have imagined himself sucking someone else's cock. He was indifferent to the notion of homosexuality, ignoring it in his soldiers who chose to engage in such activity. He'd never entertained the thought of bedding another man, his imaginings always inevitably leading back to Ialia regardless of the years that separated them. He'd bedded several women, further confirming his heterosexuality with each experience he'd had and the enjoyment he'd derived from such. Yet here he was, actually contemplating putting a penis in his mouth. He looked down at it, gently pulling the foreskin down all the way.

As his lips pressed against the area between her navel and groin, he looked up at her, his eyes meeting her own.

"Azan..." she breathed. Her fingers ran along his scalp, gently rumpling his hair. "Please do this, for me."

He couldn't describe how, but there was something in her words that helped him move past his hesitation. He lowered his head, feeling the tip of her organ against his lips. His hand moved down to rest against her groin, the base of her cock nestled into the space where his thumb joined his hand.

His lips parted and his tongue slid out, gently flicking against the tip of her, just as she'd done for him. At least he could recall the things she'd done with her mouth to please him, and use the same techniques on her. A soft, trembling sigh met his ears as he pressed his tongue more firmly, feeling the delicate opening that he knew from personal experience was one of the more sensitive areas of the male anatomy. He recognized the taste of her, albeit more musky, as one could expect from the groin area. It was not an unpleasant taste, any more than eating her out was, and the familiarity of her flavor helped him to relax some more.

When he took the head of her hardness into his mouth, he heard a soft moan, one that became a sharp whimper when he swirled his tongue around it. Continuing to swirl his tongue, he added a gentle suction, his lips firmly wrapped around her just below the swollen crown, and her hips lifted slightly as she arched.

"Now I see why you almost go wild when I do that to you," Ialia moaned, her chest rising and falling with controlled breaths as he continued his ministrations. "You're so warm and wet..."

He lifted his head for a moment. "Isn't that something I'm supposed to say to you?" he asked, his hand sliding down to the crevice between her thighs, two fingers delving into its tight heat. His own cock twitched at the familiar feel of her, and he wiggled his fingers, causing her to squirm.

"Like that? I can fuck you right now," Azan purred, sliding his fingers in deeper, until his knuckles were at her lips.

"You know I like that, but there's something I want you to finish first," the black-haired woman replied smoothly, waving to her throbbing organ. The hand that had been resting atop his head, fingers loosely curled in his hair, pressed down gently. Complying with her command, he kept his fingers within her and took her into his mouth.

Repeating the sucking and swirling motion, he massaged her insides with the pads of his fingers, finding that inner spot that never failed to elicit delight from her. This time it certainly was no different, and he felt her cock quiver as he pressed upward. Shifting around, he used his free arm to guide Ialia to drape one leg across his shoulder, leaving her more open to his ministrations, which she was all too happy to comply with.

He took more and more of her into his mouth with each suck, feeling it press against the roof and then back of his mouth before he stopped. All but a centimeter or two of her was now inside his mouth, his tongue laving along the underside of the shaft.

"Is this why men enjoy fucking so much?" she asked with a whispering exhale. "Gods... the warmth... this certainly explains a lot about men."

He could only chuckle around the flesh in his mouth, which caused her to shudder in pleasure. Remembering something she did that never failed to make him feel good, he started humming. She arched and bit her lip, clenching around his fingers as she squirmed around slightly. His free arm wrapped around her hip, his hand coming to rest on her stomach and caressing it as he continued his ministrations, wiggling his hips against the blankets to relieve some of the pressure in his groin.

"Keep that up, and you'll have your reward soon enough..." she moaned. For a moment, he thought that she meant for him to fuck her, before he realized that she was speaking of her own orgasm. Having tasted of her jism before, Azan was relieved that he knew what he could expect, although having her cum directly into his mouth would be new.

The sucking became harder and faster, his head bobbing up and down as she moaned his name several times, each succeeding utterance becoming sharper and more urgent as her toes curled against his back, her thighs tensing as she clenched around his fingers.

"Oh! Ng... oh... yes... Yes... Ye...!" She arched as Azan felt an explosion of warmth within his mouth, her cock seeming to get thicker just before she achieved her climax. Flopping back on the cushions, her breath came in long, slow gasps as she stared upward for several long moments, her hand slowly sliding from his head. He felt her body twitch and shudder with after-shocks as he continued to suck her off, his pace becoming more languorous, finding himself rewarded with a couple smaller spurts. Caressing her stomach as he did so, he continued his oral ministrations, gently easing her from his mouth when his rhythm came to a stop.

Withdrawing his fingers from her, he sucked them clean, noting the similarity yet subtle difference in her juices.




Blessings of a Healer Ch. 06



"You did a very good job of pleasing me..." she said with a low purr, and he looked up, meeting her eyes.

"Oh, is that so?" he asked as he raised himself before inching up her body.

"You make it a point to observe others when interacting with them. What did you observe in me?" she replied lightly. He smiled faintly at that.