Court of the Crimson King
Copyright© 2025 by Fick Suck
Chapter 25
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 25 - When a cranky young veteran of the repulsed brutal invasion is found and returned to the Court of the Crimson King, he is shocked by the poor state of the kingdom. North is dragooned into the reigning queen’s retinue, a position fraught with politics, intrigue, magic, and hints of destiny. The Court is an intricate dance that one must master or else disappear into oblivion. Based loosely on the song of the same title by King Crimson.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa
A week later and at the end of his rations, North stepped into the gateway for the Cat’s Whisker mid-evening local time. His scalp would not stop itching as he stepped out of the gateway. The front door of the tavern was a welcome sight to his weary eyes. He settled into a chair at one of the side tables and was immediately served a tall mug of Torc’s dark lager and a steaming bowl of meat stew. Before uttering a word of greeting, he inhaled everything placed before him.
With a belch and a rolling of his shoulders, North looked up into the face of Derron. “You look a little worse for wear,” Derron said. “Word is that you got a promotion.”
“Yeah, and then I had to run an errand and garnered the attention of a major god far out counter- spin-ward for my efforts,” North said. “Coming here was the shortest way home.”
Derron leaned back in his chair. “Sounds like there are goodly portions to the story you’ve omitted. I’ve popped the bung on a barrel of Kekeran’s Pale. Fancy a second pint?”
“If it comes with a bed for the night,” North said. “Is there a market tomorrow?”
“I believe so. What do you need that you can’t get in your new fancy world?” Derron was smirking.
“Underwear,” North said. “I had to trade one of my last pairs with a non-human being for the location of a gateway and two blue rocks.” He described the being with whom he traded and the little black box they used to communicate. As he spoke Fassie slipped a mug of Kekeran’s into his right hand as it rested on the table. He gave her a smile of appreciation before he reached down and retrieved the two stones from his saddlebag.
Derron gave out a low whistle as he gazed at the stones. “Those are huge blue rocks, North. If they’re what I think they are, your queen is going to be mighty jealous when she learns of them. You do know those are unpolished sapphires, the size of which I’ve never seen before?” Derron picked one up to examine it more closely. “I don’t think these come from a world where you and I could exist. This is too much, too perfect to be formed by compression under the range of normal gravities.”
“I lost my underwear,” North said, taking back the rock and tucking both away in his bag.
“Those are Power stones for the ages,” Derron said, before he took another swallow of his pint.
North drank as well. “I don’t use Power stones. For the record, no one in the Court of the Crimson King needs such a big rock. This is more bother than boost.”
“What happened to your hair?” Derron asked. “It’s no longer brown, but kind of golden now.”
Not having seen a mirror, North held up his arms like he had no clue. The conversation lasted another comfortable hour before exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him. He fell into a lumpy bed in one of the employee cottages that was more rundown than his original home when he worked at the tavern.
A banging at the door awakened him. North swore he had only been asleep for an hour, but daylight was streaming through the curtained window. He yelled out that he was coming while he scrambled to find his pants. All his clothes were missing – all of them. Wrapping himself in a sheet, he stormed to the door and opened it enough to peek out at the person who dared to disturb his sleep.
“Gartin?”
“Who else would chance cleaning these disgustingly filthy clothes? Now, get your hairy butt out of the way and let me put these clean clothes down. I’m not a youngster, you know. Stop your gawping and close the door behind you.”
She laid the clothes on the bed before she took a seat in the only chair in the room. “Go on and get dressed. You don’t have anything I’ve haven’t seen before, not that I want to see it again.”
North slowly got dressed. All his clothes no longer fit well, and he was at a loss as to why.
“My clothes don’t fit right,” he said with puzzlement.
“Sit down on the bed and let’s make an accounting, you and I,” Gartin said, seemingly ignoring his dilemma. When he sat down, she continued, “You’ve had a few encounters, and each one has made an impress upon your body. Such consequences are to be expected when you go seeking gods and they answer. You can always get that frigid example of a queen to pay for some new clothes.” She sucked something between her teeth.
“There are some things about my Queen I don’t wish to know and even more, I don’t wish to know how you know,” North said, shaking the cobwebs out his bleary mind. “What I do understand is that you are more than a maid and washerwoman. My Queen is quite eager to sit with you for a reading.”
“ ... which she doesn’t deserve,” Gartin said with a wave of dismissal. “Tell me what has happened and give me the in-depth version. We don’t know which details matter and which don’t.”
North spoke for a while before Gartin stopped him. She excused herself for a moment. He took the opportunity to use the jakes before she returned with a basket of rolls stuffed with caramelized onions and a small round of soft cheese. He continued his story while he ate the contents of the basket.
When he was done, she demanded to see the stones. When he produced them, she took one in each hand and brought first one and then the other to her forehead. “These are not for the Court of the Crimson King,” she announced, “but you already knew that. We’re putting aside one stone for the moment.” She held up her right hand, “For this stone, I will give you a reading for the Fire Witch.”
“For me?”
“No, you dunderhead, for her,” Gartin said. “Pull your boots on and go fetch her from the Court. Don’t make me wait long; I’m an old lady, you know. Bring her to the Cat’s Whisker when you return.”
With his thoughts churning furiously and his body acting jerkily, North ran for the gateway that led directly to the Court. He paused a second before the gateway, wondering why he was running to fulfill Gartin’s orders, only to decide that it was probably in his best interest to do what she said. He stepped through, entering the back of the royal greenhouse. The night was cloudy, with no stars or moons visible. He ran towards the buildings, doing his best to stay quiet and unseen from anyone who could be out and about. He saw no one.
At a loss for where Paquin might be, he stopped to consider his options. He second guessed himself, wondering if she had returned from her training only to conclude one should never question a seer. He approached the two guards at the Queen’s Tower.
“Jack of Spades!” the two guards exclaimed upon recognizing him.
“My mission is not complete,” he said, trying to avoid explanations. “I need to find the Fire Witch. Do you know where she is?”
They did not, although they knew she was back. He asked for Botham. They knew where he was - in the back of the kitchen, North found his servant in the middle of a card game with a good sum of coin in the middle of the table.
“Sir!” Botham said, leaping from the table. “You’re back.”
“With me,” North commanded, turning away and walking out of the building. When Botham joined him, North said. “I’m not back yet. I need the Fire Witch though and I’m in a rush. Do you have any idea where she is?”
“Of course, sir,” Botham said with a smile. “She’s been stashed in your room in the Queen’s Tower.”