Vhenan Aravel
Chapter 8: Married Life - Fickle Consequence

Copyright© 2017 by eatenbydragons

Fan Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 8: Married Life - Fickle Consequence - Raviathan, a city elf with too many secrets and regrets, undergoes a long journey in order to find his way in the world. Part 1 is a Dragon Age Blight fic with many additions and twists to the original story. This story starts off on the fluffy side, but beware. Thar be dragons, and it will dip into darker territories. I'd rather overtag for potential triggers than undertag. Rape and prostitution occur rarely in the overall narrative, but they are present.

Caution: This Fan Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/Ma   Consensual   Magic   Rape   Reluctant   Romantic   Gay   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Fan Fiction   High Fantasy   Interracial   Anal Sex   Analingus   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Prostitution  

After she finished scrubbing the floor, Nesiara came down to see Raviathan working at the stove. On the table was his herbalist kit. Various bottles were open and laid out next to his pestle. The pot on the stove had what looked like warm cream simmering below a boil. “What are you making?”

He turned to smile up at her with glowing eyes. A light flushed warmed her cheeks, but she was pleased by the looks she always got from him. He went to her and lifted her off the ladder and into his arms. She giggled a little at his enthusiasm as they kissed, and he set her down. “It’s an ointment. I have a standing delivery for this once a month.”

“What’s it for?”

He didn’t say at first as he went back to stirring the mixture then placing three large glass jars on the table. “No lies between us, Ness. Don’t think less of me for doing this.”

She looked at him with solemn curiosity. “Okay.” At least she had some warning.

“I know a few boys who were exiled.” The consequences of that were known to all elves. Exile for most was like a death sentence. It was almost never revoked without full proof of the elf’s innocence, which was next to impossible. In addition to exile, the offending elves would be shunned by all the alienage elves. Even family would no longer talk to them in part because of the ruling but also because of the shame it brought upon the family to have an exiled member. With few survival skills or resources, young elves left in a precarious position and even fewer choices.

It was nearly impossible for exiles to secure work as a servant without family connections to vouch for their character. If the unfortunate elf found decent work, which was unlikely, there were humans to beware of. Even with the poverty and poor maintenance, the pressure to stay inside an alienage remained great. They were subject to the capricious and violent nature of humans if they left. Elves who lived outside the alienage often had their homes broken into and trashed if not outright burned. With so little left for them, it was an almost certainty that the elves Raviathan was talking about were prostitutes.

“Okay,” Nesiara said carefully. “What’s the ointment do?”

“A few months after this boy I knew was exiled, one of the dock workers, his uncle, asked me to go meet with him.” Raviathan added a yellow paste that made the ointment smell musky. “He had started working at a brothel. He was getting sickly. And there was pain.” Raviathan’s eyes were tight as he stirred in the mix. “I made some inquiries at one of the higher end brothels where they take care of their workers. They said he was having a reaction to the men. It’s rough on men. To have sex that way. They, um, it takes more preparation for them to become wet, and since they’re prostitutes, no one cares enough about them to do that. It also ... being with shems damages their lining. This ointment kills the seed and makes it easier for them. So, once a month I prepare this and give it to him. One of the other boys who work there requested it as well.”

Before she reacted, Nesiara took a moment, folding her hands in her lap as she did so. Exile was never handed down easily. Those elves had done harm to their fellows in order to get that sentence. “Does anyone know about this?”

“No one. Everyone here thinks I’m getting supplies. Sometimes I am.”

“I’m not sure I’m okay with this.” Nesiara nibbled the inside of her lip. Raviathan put his head down and turned back to the stove. If anyone found out, it would make him look bad, a traitor to the alienage. He wouldn’t be exiled, but the other elves would turn cold. The young men might try to fight him for betraying the alienage. Valendrian was a fair man, and wise, but even he would have some harsh words for her husband. Her husband already problems. They didn’t need to complicate it. Still, he was trusting her. “Were you friends?”

“No. We knew each other. That’s about all.” Raviathan lifted off the pot and poured the hot ointment in the three jars, scraping out as much as he could with a spatula that was set aside for his specialized brews. “They need to cool before I can seal them.” He put the pot and spatula in the tub for washing before returning to caress her cheek. “Don’t think less of me.”

Nesiara took his hand, and he sat next to her. “Why were they exiled?”

“The boy who contacted me beat his father once. Almost killed him. The other boy was caught having sex and hitting the girl for cheating on him. The two of them were both exiled. Everyone was sure she had a second, but the boy she named denied it and was sent to another alienage. I don’t know what happened to her.” He looked at Nesiara sorrowfully. “I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t help him, but he looked so bad, Ness. He was humiliated and suffering. His life was already turning into a nightmare. I just ... it was bad enough as it was.”

He was risking too much by helping them. Should she tell him to stop? If he were caught, it would risk her, their father, and future children. His cousins too. Everyone who cared about him. Nesiara looked down at his graceful hand in her thick, calloused ones. “Don’t get caught.”

He stood and pulled her into a fierce hug. “Thank you, Ness.”

“Are you going today?”

“Yes,” he said, holding her close. “Just after lunch.”

Time to let the heavy subject go. Eolas had told her to laugh instead of spending days in tears. He would be careful. He trusted her, so she would trust him. “So,” she said suggestively, “we have until lunch. Whatever shall we do with the time?”

“No idea,” he teased back. “Does my lovely wife have some task that she requires of me?”

“Task? I wouldn’t want to over work you. Be awful if I was called a nag or shrew this early on.”

He kissed her, pressing their bodies even closer. “Not a task then. A favor? Certainly no chore.”

“How about activity? Does that sound more pleasant?”

“Activity,” he mused. “Sounds like an appropriate use of our time.”

Grinning, she led the way back up the ladder. As she was climbing his hand slid up inside her dress to caress her thigh, making her blood thrum pleasantly in anticipation. She hoped he would never get tired of her. As she tried to go up the next step, her dress pulled. “Rav, what are you... ?”

Oh Maker no. He was under her dress, his mouth at the back of her knee just above her stocking. What had been pleasant anticipation turned almost painfully tight as his mouth traveled slowly up her thigh. “No. Rav, no.” He paid her no mind, his kisses wet, sensuous, and slowly rising. “Not here. Please.”

“The door is locked,” he said, nibbling at the back of her thigh. He reached up, both hands caressing up her legs, and very slowly pulled down her small clothes. Oh please Maker not this. What’s he doing? Her dress, caught on his shoulders, rumpled and climbed, exposing more of her legs. He lifted one of her legs, her small clothes slipping off, then let her calf rest against his chest. It felt strange to be almost fully clothed, too confining, as if her skin was caged and wanting freedom. His breath on the back of her thighs was the only freedom her body had from her clinging dress. How far was he going to go?

“Rav,” she moaned, moving her thigh wide to give him more room.

“Yes, my dearest wife?” Though she couldn’t hear it, she knew he was laughing by the shaking of his chest.

“If you’re laughing at me...” she warned as her back arched involuntarily. He had seen her most hidden parts many times, but not like this. Never like this.

He was just past midway. “What, my dearest? What will happen?” he asked, his lips brushing her inner thigh as he spoke. He nuzzled her there, his teeth grazing her skin, before continuing in further with slow kisses. The silk of his hair was as much a caress as his lips.

“I’ll ... I’ll squeeze your head.”

“Oooh. That might not be so bad.” His tongue flicked out high on her upper thigh, and her knuckles went white gripping the ladder. “I can think of worse fates than to be smothered between your legs.” He bit her gently on the cleft of her bottom. The ache was becoming painful. His kissed her, licked her, nibbled her burning skin. “By the flames, Ness,” he said letting his tongue roam high on her inner thigh, “your skin is so sweet.”

“And you call me the tease,” she whispered. “Brute.” She wanted to feel him slide inside her. The blood in her groin was throbbing for it. She could feel her speeding pulse calling out for him. She wanted out of her clothes and have him spread her legs apart and take his pleasure hard.

He shifted, his cool hair slipping like silk along her thighs, as he turned around. She cried out as the throbbing got worse, and then he licked her. There. She clenched tight, her breathing ragged. What had he just done? What in the Maker’s name had he just done? It was even worse now with his tongue sliding up and down her sex. She cried out in a mix of panic, embarrassment, and shock, and clutched the ladder rungs. His mouth was sucking at her, his tongue squeezing in between her tightened lips, coaxing her to open to him again. Oh no, oh no-no-no-no, what would he think of her? She cried out again, pained and wanting him.

One of his hands moved from holding her buttock to feeling inside the folds of her sex. She couldn’t stay tight, and when she was forced open, his tongue wiggled back and forth, tasting her. Please, Rav please don’t be disgusted with me. His fingers penetrated her, moving up and down, pressing her forward. His tongue was so strong as he tasted every inch of her.

All at once the tight throbbing all moved away as if pulled into another world, and a warmth spread from her groin down her legs and up her body in pulsing waves. She could feel it flush into her chest and stiffen her nipples, and down to the back of her knees as if steaming hot water were pouring down her legs. She wondered if she had lost control of her bladder. She couldn’t tell. His tongue continued to lick at her, so the half sane part of her mind guessed she hadn’t.

Tears poured out of her eyes, and then her body tightened as if everything was pulled to a line running up her center. There was no controlling her voice, and her deep uncensored moan filled the room. The painful tightening loosened, unwinding inside her, and she would have collapse if her dearest, loving husband hadn’t been holding her up. “Ra-av?” It sounded like his name had been wrung from her throat.

Still that tongue. Was he sucking at her? She could feel his lips fastened on her, his hand rubbing at a spot that felt like all the nerves of her body were connected to, and his glorious tongue. Her back arched, her butt sticking out ungracefully, and she wailed as her body seemed to twist inside her, driving her to his tongue. Her stomach and legs quivered, and her arms trembled as she tried to hold on. Oh Maker please, and her tears continued to pour out.

Her body had never felt so heavy before. Raviathan, always protective of her, took care to get her legs back on the ladder. Once he was out from under her skirt, he pulled her back so she fell in his arms. There was no way she would have been able to stand let alone climb up. She kept noticing the subtle shifts of her dress against her butt and hips. Without her small clothes on she felt that much nearer to him even though she was otherwise fully dressed. So odd. He put her on the one of the comfortable chairs, but she didn’t want to let go. Ever.

“Just let me get cleaned up.”

“Mmmph,” Nesiara said. She wanted to curl up and sleep on him. Instead she watched him wash his face and rinse out his mouth. His hair was tussled. When finished, he put a mint leaf in his mouth to chew, pulled her out of the chair then had her sit in his lap. “Did I taste bad?”

“You taste like raspberries mashed with honey. I didn’t think you would kiss me unless I cleaned up, and I very much need to kiss you right now.”

She gave an inarticulate murmur and pulled him down for a mint flavored kiss. She was so loose she didn’t think she’d ever be able to walk again. He’d have to carry her everywhere or the wind would float her away. She would spiral hither and thither, tossed about like a leaf carried off to sea. “I wonder what you taste like.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he said with a quiet laugh.

“What about you, my love? Don’t you need to... ?”

“You scrubbed the top floor?” She nodded. “Well, there’s a few spots you might need to get on the bottom floor.”

Her neck twisted about, and she saw wet spots darkening the wood around the white of his seed. Her small clothes were hanging like a guilty secret on the ladder. “Ah well. As long as you’re happy.”

“Maker bless you, Ness,” he whispered next to her ear. “My heart is yours.” He squeezed her close and nuzzled her. “I am yours.”

~o~O~o~

He left Nesiara with some tea to help refresh her. He had never thought of doing that to another girl before, but when she was on the ladder with her legs trembling, he would have done anything for her pleasure. Anything to make her happy. For the first time that thought troubled him. He still had no idea what he was going to do for his wedding gift to her. Maybe he could find something at the Market, some pretty combs for her hair. He did not want ‘pretty’. He wanted something as extraordinary as her gift was to him. That would cost a fortune though. First he needed a job to pay for a gift, but there was nothing that would pay enough, and finding a job was difficult. He’d need to get one soon anyway, but he wanted to spend as much time as he could with her before that happened.

The city outside the alienage never felt right to him. It was too big, for one. Not enough that he couldn’t move around with ease of course, but just enough to make him feel like an outsider. Noise seemed sharper on stone streets, and with no vhenadahl, he felt disconnected. There was a sterility that marked the shems, and not just in their city. They were as cold to each other as the rest of the city was to him. The man and woman walking down the street could be strangers as easily as a married couple. The two teenagers following them could be servants as easily as children. It always took him a few minutes to get use to their flat eyes and their thick, clumsy gaits.

Their odd manners and ways did more than just make him feel like an outsider. There was always a creeping paranoia that seemed to quietly but insistently hound him. A dirty look from the fishmonger could be disgust because he was looking at an elf or just the simple fact that the man was having a bad day. The former could spell trouble if he didn’t keep his eyes down and moving forward. There was no way to tell when violence would follow him out here. How he hated walking the streets by himself.

 
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