Shilana's Trial

by Blind_Justice

Copyright© 2019 by Blind_Justice

Fantasy Sex Story: When a simple adventure goes awry, troubled elf mage Shilana has to confront her past and the choices she made.

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Drunk/Drugged   Rape   Reluctant   Romantic   Slavery   Lesbian   Hermaphrodite   Fiction   High Fantasy   Rough   Sadistic   Oral Sex   Revenge   Slow   Transformation   Violent   .

Author’s Notes:

This is the sequel to “Leo and the Dragon”, which you can also find here on StoriesOnline. To fully enjoy this story, you might want to go back and read that one first, although I’ve tried my best to make this as accessible as possible. Be warned, there will be dark depths of depravity not everyone might find appealing.

A huge “Thank you” to all the people who helped refine this tale. You know who you are.

As always, there are only adult beings having sex.

“Nothing better than the end of a day’s march,” Arach sighed as she stepped from the tent, raising her arms over her head and stretching languidly. She seemed to bask in the light of the setting sun, long white hair unbound, fluttering in the evening breeze. Both she and her lover, Tear, wore nothing more than gauzy, silvery robes that did precious little to conceal the curves of their lithe yet supple bodies. The wind whispering through the clearing wasn’t helping either, each gentle breeze tugging at the diaphanous garments, exposing the smooth, coal-black skin beneath.

For reasons that baffled me, neither Leo nor Zentam seemed the least bit perturbed by those two practically flaunting their tits and asses. Especially Leo seemed at ease around them, smiling fondly or even brushing his hand along a shapely thigh or butt when they strode by. That was not the Leo I’d known for the last four years. The Leo I had known was a blond-locked, muscular and shockingly handsome six-foot-eight giant of a man. Always caring, always gentle, fearless and honest to a fault, but he blushed like a young girl whenever someone as much as blew him a kiss.

We’d been partners since he arrived in Storm Harbour those years back. At first he clung to me like a kid to his wet-nurse, because the city seemed to genuinely frighten him, but as the months went by, I found it harder and harder to not feel his reassuring presence behind me when I strode into a fight. Over time, I postponed our separation again and again, until the higher-ups in the Watch saw it fit to make our partnership official. And through bloody battles, rainy nights of patrol duties and more than one heated argument which nearly brought my lightning-wreathed fist into his face, we’ve become friends.

And when I was honest to myself, just a little bit, I accepted the fact that I couldn’t stand the notion of no longer being by his side. Or he by mine. An important distinction, I thought. What other reason could there be that I almost went mental when he left for that dragon-hunting episode with those ebon tramps and I fumed alone, for the first time in years, scared witless of what they or the dragon would do to my dearest, and let’s be honest again, only friend? It wasn’t the first time we went our separate ways, but it certainly was the hardest and the reunion, albeit quite the strange encounter with Arach bodily hauling me into Leo’s embrace, was the most welcome.

No, this time, I had decided, I would be with him, come whatever may. And may the gods protect any dark elven twat who would dare lay a finger, a lip or anything else on my paladin. It was bad enough that those two, nearly naked, were all but rubbing their goods in his face!

Well, our faces, really.

“Who are ye plannin’ to gut next, elf?” Zentam merrily asked, flopping down next to me. The red-bearded dwarf handed me a rolled-up trail ration.

I wasn’t very good at making friends. Most people didn’t understand magic or those who used it, so most kept their distance, with Leo being one of the few exceptions. And I wasn’t in the habit of sharing my troubled past with anyone. But I found dealing with Zentam surprisingly easy. Yes, he was coarse and he seemed to be very fond of walking, or sitting very close to me, enveloping me in his personal cloud of metal and sweat scents. But he was a simple, honest soul. Point him in the direction of an enemy and he would only stop after said enemy was a sad stain on the ground, a mentality I could wholeheartedly get behind.

“It’s ‘Shilana’, remember?” I reminded him sweetly, just the barest shock of electricity jumping between our hands as I took the ration. “And I’m not itching to gut anyone. How do you get the idea in the first place?”

“Oh, just a feelin’,” he said, uneven teeth bared in a vicious grin. He pointed at the rations package he just had handed me. The oiled paper was smoking in a dozen places where my fingers were touching it. “And yer not lookin’ too kindly at the lassies,” he added unnecessarily.

Yes, I was agitated, and the mystical energies barely contained within me reacted to my thoughts and desires. When I closed my eyes, I could easily envision two dark elven sluts jumping and dancing while lightning shocked them from head to nipples to toes. While it would be a delightful little diversion, I had promised I would behave. With a conscious effort of will, I forced myself to calm down and unwrapped the ration, noting with disgust the greasy piece of meat next to two potatoes and some hard tack.

“Well-” I began.

A slender hand brushed my cheek. I tried my best not to flinch, but going by the sad little smile on Tear’s face, I had failed, yet again. There was no call for it. Not with her. Where Arach was wild and had a touch of crazy in her amber eyes, Tear was gentle and sweet. But she was a dark elf, so my first instinct was to light her up. I hadn’t done it though. I was learning, and I’d come to accept their presence nearby, had adapted to it. Mostly. Except for the touching.

Truly, what was it with those two, their constant need for touching, fondling and kissing? Clashing natures, is what they were. Warrior-priestesses and creatures of wanton desire both, at home on the battlefield or in a brothel. And then there was me, with my irrational but truly justifiable fear of dark elves, creatures that were not known for genteel kindness, not anywhere. It was no wonder I was on edge.

I opened my mouth to shoo the woman away when I noticed what she was holding out with her free hand, a small wooden bowl, filled with sliced tomatoes, carrots, lettuce, mushrooms and cheese. Her smile widened. “I’ve put Arach to good use. Forget these horrible rations and try some of our salad instead. I’ll promise it’s not poisoned. Really.”

Feeling myself blush, I hung my head and mumbled a little “Thank you.” Her long fingers brushed my cheek - and I didn’t flinch that time - and with an barely audible “you’re welcome, Shi,” she was gone.

“Ye’re doin’ it again,” Zentam said with a smirk. I looked at the bowl in my hands, the wood smoking where my fingers seared it. Snarling with the effort, I willed my power to subside again. “How are ye doing that anyway?” the dwarf asked.

“Have you ever heard of elemental stones?” I asked him instead of an explanation.

To my surprise, he nodded sagely. “Yup, they’re highly prized for creating magical arms and armor, imbuin’ the elemental properties into the item in question. Put a fire stone into an axe, ye have yerself a nicely flamin’ axe.” Then his eyes widened in understanding. “Lass, ye didn’t-”

I nodded. “Put five of them into an elf mage and you have me.”

“Ye can’t be serious!” he breathed, eyes wide in awe. His bushy eyebrows nearly disappeared under the shock of red hair fighting to escape his helmet.

I put the bowl down and looked at him, lowering my voice. No need for the whole camp to listen in. “I was young. I was angry. And maybe a little foolish. I didn’t want to wait centuries to become powerful enough to kill dark elves by the dozen.” I took his hand and placed it atop my forehead. You can’t see it from the outside, only when I used the full extent of my power, but you could certainly feel the ridges of the stone embedded in my skull when your fingers were sensitive enough. Zentam’s were. Again surprising me, his fingertips gently traced the pentagonal stone.

“Who would be mad enough to do such a thing?” he asked, his voice wavering between curiosity and awe.

“Lady Desire grants any wish, if you’re willing to pay her price,” I whispered.

Unbidden, the images came back. The naked priestess, writhing atop the altar, intoning the name, the unspeakable true name of Desire while I knelt between her legs, my lips fastened to her femininity, fulfilling her desires so she could help fulfill mine. Then my turn on the altar, the chanting acolytes bringing the storm gems, placing them on my forehead, my breastbone, my stomach and both hands. Then there was nothing but blinding, never-ending agony as the stones buried themselves into my body. Hands, mouths, other parts rubbing, leaking, drooling over me, and finally, the sultry voice of Desire herself, as she proclaimed the price I had to pay for my power.

You shall be the bringer of death, as you asked, but never shall you bear life. And never shall you escape your past, despite your best efforts to rid yourself of it.

“What was that?” Zentam asked, his face so close that an errant hair was itching my nose.

“None of your business, dwarf,” I snarled, getting up. I needed to be alone. Now.

The chattering birds were just the thing to calm my nerves. I was sitting on a forked branch, almost thirty feet up from the ground. I didn’t even remember the climb. And once again, I felt utterly stupid. As if I hadn’t enough futile questions to wrangle with, I had to share one of my darkest secrets with a gods-be-damned dwarven mercenary. I barely knew him, we were hardly friends, and what I shared with him wasn’t meant for the ears of loose acquaintances. What next? Would I welcome Arach into my bedroll for a night of debauchery?

It wasn’t Zentam’s fault that I was so agitated, but it sure as hell was his questioning that brought back the memories, reminding me all too sharply what I was willing to leave behind for the sake of revenge. Another crept into my mind, tall, blond-locked, muscular. Why was it that Leo came to mind whenever I pondered my inability to bear children? It was a conscious decision to leave everything behind anyway, right? And who in their right mind would bring children into a world where dark elves were free to rape, murder and enslave whoever and whatever they set their greedy eyes upon?


The whisper came from below. Gnashing my teeth, I looked down. Leo. Fully armored, hefting his impossibly large hammer like a children’s toy, he was skulking around in the underbrush, easy to spot despite the darkness. With a sigh, I intoned one of my minor magics, a simple spell that let me slowly drift from any height, almost like a feather, and jumped off the branch. With barely a rustle, I set down next to him. Nevertheless, he had almost turned as my hand touched his shoulder, small arcs of eldritch lightning sparking off his armor.

“Are you really paranoid or have your senses sharpened this much since last we were together, hatchling?” I teased him.

Leo whispered something I didn’t get, but I heard the soft rattle as his armor folded in on itself. When his arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a surprising embrace, my face rested against his shirt-clad chest instead of hard, unyielding metal.

“It’s surprising, really, how much you learn when crawling through pitch-black caverns and tunnels,” he commented. “And not wearing a helmet any more does help, too.” His tone softened. “I was worried.”

“I’m a big girl, Leo,” I said, trying not to scowl. “And you know, elves and forests and all,”

He snorted with amusement.

It was almost surreal how safe I felt in his arms, feeling his mighty chest ebb and swell with each of his measured breaths. I leaned into him, urging him on to hug me tighter. Without hesitation, he pulled me even closer, until I felt nothing but his strong arms around me, his muscular frame against me. And I also felt a very distinct stirring underneath his pants. I cocked my head. His smile was radiant as he bent down and gently placed a kiss on my forehead, the only thing he could reach without having to bend down and break our embrace somewhat. It felt as if the warmth of his kiss seeped into my skin, flowed through my cheeks, until it settled within my own lips.

I grinned playfully and craned my neck, offering my mouth. With a small growl, he changed his grip, his wonderfully large hands cupping my behind, and without any apparent effort, he hoisted me up so our heads were level. Despite myself, I giggled like a lovestruck fool and wrapped my legs around his hips, pressing my heels into his rock-hard behind. Then I forgot to breathe as his lips found mine and he kissed me, with a silent, burning intensity that made my heart skip a beat. He even brushed his tongue over my lips. So unexpected, yet so right, and I wanted more of it, not just on my mouth.

But this was too good to be true. Was he teasing me for that one night where I -- unsuccessfully -- tried to seduce him? “Fine, out with it. What have you done to my paladin?” I snarled, only half-joking.

“I still am Leo, Fist of Justice...” he began, but I cut him off with, gods above, a kiss. I felt something brush up between us, deliciously pressing into my stomach.

“ ... Hero of Storm Harbour, Dragonslayer, blah, blah, blah, I know all your bloody titles. But you are not behaving like the Leo I know!” I complained.

“No? What is different?” he asked.

Was he serious? Almost too late I noticed the little smile tugging at his lips, confident, cocky even. I sighed, not quite sure if in defeat or exasperation, but that only caused my body to rub deliciously against his hardness. Were his fingers actually kneading my butt? Too many clothes between us, too many layers. Gods, what was happening to me?

“For Mercy’s sake, Leo, you’re practically trying to lay me!” I snapped, silently debating if I should disentangle myself from him.

“If I wanted that, you’d be the first to know, I promise. I was just worried about you, leaving camp snarling like that.” He fell silent for a moment, snuggling against me.

“Do you want me to stop?” he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers over my skin where his lips almost touched my neck. I didn’t know what I wanted any more. For the longest time, he just held me, nearly motionless, apart from his breathing or the occasional, coy movement of his hands on my bum, causing me to moan in appreciation. It had been years that I had let anyone get this close to me, and for some insane reason, Leo’s every touch was making me shiver in delight.

I moaned in disappointment when he gently set me down again, my weakened knees suddenly barely able to keep me standing.

“I think we should better continue this discussion in camp,” he suggested, picking up his hammer.

“Which discussion? You were busy fondling my butt, hatchling. What’s to discuss about that?” I grumbled. I never asked him to stop.

“How we will go on, of course.”

Arach and Zentam waited for us when we returned, the dark elven girl grinning fiercely and obviously itching to let loose one of her irreverent questions, but she just closed her mouth when she met Leo’s gaze. I had a feeling that she was in some way responsible for the way Leo behaved these days. Always Leo had worn his faith and personal code like a shield. Always had he been a remarkable paladin, an honorable companion, a trusted friend. But a lover, one comfortable in his own skin? Never. One did not learn the lessons of lovemaking from a book. These were learned by trial and error, and by experience. Had Arach and Leo... ? No, Leo could never have initiated ... But Arach, who was seemingly ashamed of nothing ... What if she... ?

“I’ll keep watch for the rest o’ the night,” Zentam said. “We’re this close to Storm Harbour, what could try to attack us here?”

“Ogres?” Leo and Arach shot at him in unison.

Completing each other’s sentences now, were they? The thought disturbed me. They were too close for comfort. Maybe they had-? During a damned dragon hunt? I needed to let this thought go. Or bury it deep, deep down inside. Something I was pretty good at.

“All the more reason for ye to let me have some fun. With you around, any battle would be over far too soon anyway. So, off ta bed wit all o’ye,” the dwarf ordered, waving his axe around.

I nodded his way and slipped into the tent not shared by the dark elves. I stood by my word with Leo. Somewhat. I’d let up on the “not sharing a camp site” and “not talking to them” bits along with the “not grilling them with lighting”, but the Nine Hells would freeze over before I thought about sharing a tent with them. I wasn’t afraid of them. Oh no. I could beat both of them in a fair fight, let alone an unfair one. But they could do far worse things to me than kill or hurt me. I really didn’t want to end up as the centerpiece of an unplanned all-girl threesome.

I opened my small backpack and unfurled one of my most valuable possessions, an enchanted bedroll which would let me make the most of any sleep, leaving me fully rested after only three hours. It also was one of the few possessions the dark elves attacking our village didn’t take with them, obviously enchanted bedrolls weren’t important enough to pillage.

What was it with every thought turning to my past tonight? First, the augmentation ceremony in Desire’s temple and what I’d given up for it, now my mind wandered back to the Speaker’s Hall, and what happened there.

The floor was stained crimson with all the blood the priestesses of the Chaos Queen spilled there after the males were done raping every girl and woman they didn’t deem valuable enough for their slave markets in their eternally sun-scorned caverns. I still don’t know why they didn’t offer me to their damned Queen with the first batch. After all, I was the High Speaker’s daughter, a doe-eyed beauty of tender seventy, barely grown into a woman.

But no, that would have been too neat. First, they had me choose who among my family would be offered up to their accursed goddess, as a blessing for the festivities they had planned. After I had to watch how they butchered my family, burning their still-beating hearts in the ancient braziers which had offered light and warmth for all who visited the Speaker’s Hall, they had strapped me between two pillars holding the high-vaulted ceiling, legs splayed open obscenely, so every passing dark elf could, if the fancy struck him or her, have a go at me. And even when they had been hauling out the valuables by the chestful, they hadn’t had enough. It seemed as every last one of them had stopped at my pillars at least once to play.

“You have been a good pupil, Hael’quira,” one regal priestess cooed, her armor dented and bloodied during the assault on our stronghold. Her fingers were busy in the robes of a younger, copper-haired female, hair plastered to her skull by an errant gush of blood when she had rammed her sacrificial knife into my younger brother, ripping his still beating heart out in a fountain of gore, and calling for the favor of their filthy deity.

“Can I go play now, Mother?” Hael’quira asked, grinding against the older woman. I wasn’t sure if she was using a ceremonial title or if that older female was really the monster that had spawned her.

“Of course. You have earned it. Just remember what I told you. We have to leave a message for the traitorous tree-huggers and I need her for that. Go play, my horny little spiderling,” the older priestess purred with sickly sweet affection in her voice, fingers dipping lower into Hael’quira’s robes, causing the younger dark elf to moan in heat. “Just don’t kill her by accident. Understood?”

Grinning wickedly, Hael’quira sashayed over to me. I had to crane my head up to look her in the eye, as I was fixed in a bent-over position for easier molestation. Some aeons ago, it seemed, I had cried my last tears, lost in the never-ending stream of sticky fluids the dark elven males sprayed on or into me. In their stead, a tiny, throbbing pinprick of fury had blossomed in my lower body, the burning sensation all that kept me conscious and sane.

“Hello, Shilana,” she purred, parting, then shedding her blood-spattered robe. Her inky black skin was painted with pools of golden radiance from the few scattered torches and braziers that were still burning. Her body was tattooed with striking gold too, long, slender spider legs coming over her shoulders, from under her armpits and around her stomach, converging on her shaved mound. Almost as if a giant spider was hugging her from behind, the claws picked out in an eerily metallic gold color. A small, obsidian spider was eagerly clicking its legs between her pert breasts.

“Go fuck yourself,” I hissed between burst lips. None of the males raping me had been especially gentle, but some seemed to take even more pleasure of causing me to bleed in numerous places, but the priestesses were quick to mend any serious damage, for whatever twisted reasons.

“I couldn’t help but notice you looking at my tattoos,” Hael’quira continued, as if I hadn’t said anything at all. Seductively swaying her hips, she slowly turned around, proudly displaying her back to me. It wasn’t a spider hugging her from behind, instead, done in a slightly lighter shade of black, I could make out the rear view of a curvy female, eight long, sleek spider legs going around to the front. And I noticed something else, a sleek, wetly glistening image of a thick penis disappearing into the crevice of Hael’quira’s butt.

“They say those with copper hair are blessed by our Queen, destined to become Handmaidens once our time here has come and gone,” Hael’quira said, again facing me, her finger languidly caressing along one of the spider legs reaching for her mound. “So, in preparation for this day, I had this made on my body, to honor my Queen, just after a Handmaiden had fucked me raw on my Graduation Day.”

That’s a moving story, now go away and die,” I hissed, licking my own blood off my lips. The bitter, metallic taste helped me focus. I really wished I had paid more heed to my instructors when they tried to teach me the value of spell casting without using gestures to focus. But I was far too busy being the High Speaker’s daughter to bother with such trivialities as battle magics, what with Papa’s prized Centurions around. What a fool I had been!

“You are a naughty little girl. Has anyone told you that, Shilana Elbharyl?”

I spat a gob of bloody saliva at her feet. Snarling, the priestess waved a male over and bent low, taking something from the pile of silk at her feet and slipped it over her fingertip. A dark elven warrior appeared in my field of view.

“You have called, milady?” he simpered, grinning widely at me and suggestively caressing a bulge under his kilt.

Hael’quira grinned. “Yes. Strip. I will need your services in disciplining this prisoner here.”

In a flash, the male was naked. I rolled my eyes. “Just another male fucking me? Please, I had three at once already,” I scoffed, trying to hide my shattered, nearly lifeless soul behind a facade of ice.

Hael’quira smiled crookedly. “Oh, he’s not for you, sweetling, he’s for me.”

She went to her knees in front of him. With a sensuous moan, she slurped his rampant erection between her lips, caressing his balls and ass while noisily sucking him off. He groaned, digging his hands into her crimson hair while happily fucking her mouth. The priestess chuckled, then her hands spread his ass cheeks. An errant flicker of light reflected off her fingertip, covered by something sharp, wet and metallic, before she rammed it into his rectum, causing him to toss his head back while his cock pulsed and pumped filthy dark elf cum into her mouth. Suddenly he froze in mid-thrust, gasping for breath, obviously paralyzed. With a lusty sigh, Hael’quira straightened up, pulling something else from her discarded clothes – a long, wickedly sharp contraption made from intricately arranged obsidian slivers.

Casually she rammed the sacrificial blade into his tensed-up chest. Crunching noisily, his ribs broke as the outer pieces of the blade unfolded and she yanked forth his feebly twitching heart. With an evil grin, she licked the dripping flesh and tossed it into a nearby brazier, chanting elaborate syllables, her hands streaming vile energies, red and black trails of magic distorting the air they passed through. The flames from the brazier suddenly shot up, threatening to burn the vaulted ceiling and something dark moved within the blaze.

And suddenly I beheld her, all sleek curves, black skin and fiery red hair. The clicking spider legs reaching over her shoulders were a dead giveaway. I was facing one of the dreaded Handmaidens, rumored to be the Chaos Queen’s personal retinue. She gracefully hopped out of the brazier, ignoring the roaring flames as a rock ignores a summer’s downpour.

“That wasss deliciousssly wicked, Hael’quira of House Quor’zel. What isss your wisssh?” the horrifyingly beautiful demon woman hissed, copper tresses whipping around her head as if buffeted by unseen winds.

“I’m thinking of bestowing the Queen’s Favor upon this ... specimen here,” Hael’quira beamed, caressing her pussy with the smooth pommel of her dripping dagger. Her eyes never left mine though.

“That pleasesss usss,” the demon hissed, the spider legs undulating sensuously.

“All right, Shilana, watch, this will be just for you,” Hael’quira whispered before pressing her lips to mine.

I retched feebly at the taste of blood and sperm, and I had to fight to keep breathing as the dark elven priestess knelt in front of the demon woman, heatedly kissing down her stomach, until she buried her face between the demon’s thighs and began to slurp lewdly. To my surprise, Hael’quira’s head slowly moved backwards, until I could see why. The demon woman was growing a long, slick penis where her labia and clit had been, the organ already shockingly long and wide. With a triumphant grin, Hael’quira turned to me, her hands, almost unable to contain that throbbing pole, busy pumping the thick shaft until clear goo dripped from its tip.

“Here’s how it goes. The Queen’s Favor will turn your body into an eager receptacle for dark elven seed, ready to conceive for a few hours. And I will use this time to the fullest, I’ll promise you. In the end, you’ll have no choice but to whelp a hideous, disgusting half-breed, reminding you forever of this very special night. So, shall we proceed?”

I was too stunned to think, hardly registered that the Handmaiden was no longer in sight. But then I felt her hands on my hips, her spider limbs clasping my thighs and waist, and her broad tip pressing at my ravaged opening. I held my breath, braced myself for the pain, but there was none. She was more than slick enough for us both. Her monstrous cock pushed inside me, too long and much too thick, giving me no quarter as she carved a hot path deep into my body, warmth blossoming where she joined with me, healing energies surging up through my body. Her wide tip pressed to the furthest reaches inside me, then pulled back, scraping along my stretched walls before pushing back in. And still it didn’t hurt. It was worse. It felt incredible.

Hael’quira changed too, her lower body taking on the form of a virile male, balls heavy with millions of unborn, filthy dark elves, all ready to erupt into my helplessly bound body. The Handmaiden’s spider legs tenderly gripped my torso as she ploughed me from behind, fucking me with her immense, hot length. Her cock slashed in and out of me again and again, raping me, and I loved it. I groaned and grunted, grit my teeth and screamed. She throbbed and swelled before drenching my ravaged femininity in an ungodly flood of hot liquid and healing warmth that settled low in my body, making me ripe and ready.

She took me again for her own enjoyment, and still there was no pain. Worse, there was just more pleasure. Undeniable, horrific pleasure. Not contented with one hole, she took the other. Her enormous cock filled and fucked my ass until I was raw, but I wanted more. Vile liquid heat surged inside me, flooded my bowels, and she withdrew with a loud and vulgar slurp. The sound of her demonic seed splashing to the ground churned my stomach, and tightened things low inside me. And then it was Hael’quira’s turn, stretching my soaked womanhood and fucking me savagely, horribly, endlessly and so gods-be-damned thoroughly, cock throbbing and swelling by the moment, primed to deliver upon her threat, to spill her virile seed inside my wanton heat. And the more I struggled - not to get free, but to feel more, to seek greater heights of pleasure - the tighter the bonds became, until I found it hard to even breathe...


I shot awake. My cover had wrapped itself too tightly around my profusely sweating body. But instead of the gloating eyes of Hael’quira as she blasted viscous glob after viscous glob of dark elven cum on my face, I looked into Leo’s, concern and something ... strange warring in them.

“You’ve been dreaming again,” he stated the obvious, “And going by all the tossing and turning you’ve done, it wasn’t pretty,”

I felt like someone had dropped an ox cart on me, draft animals and all. I opened and closed my mouth a few times, at a loss for words. There were so many things I wanted to say and ask, like why was he in my tent, almost naked? How could I tell him about the dream? How could I even start to explain what the dark elves had truly done to me? How could he ever, ever see me as anything but a filthy whore, should I ever muster the courage to even hint at what had happened? How the blasted Queen’s Favor had made me a little, willing cum slut? Gods above, how I had begged Hael’quira to take me again and again until I was a seed-encrusted, blood-stained mess on the floor, where she had fucked me beside the freshly killed dark elf male. How could I explain to Leo that she’d cut me down from the pillars, that I’d clung to her with arms and legs as she drilled me impossibly deep and filled me with her release over and over?

It was impossible. I just couldn’t. The shame flooded my cheeks and I buried my face into the cushion, teetering on the edge of tears.

But all my worries, all my doubts were simply snuffed out when Leo gently disentangled my covers, threw them wide and pressed his wonderfully firm, warm, living body against my trembling shell. He held me as the dam broke, he held me while I cried silently, my tears drenching us both, and long after. He held me safe until the scent of roasted bacon announced that at least for the others, a new, bright day was dawning. And I hoped I could bury the past deep enough again.

If only it would stay there.

When I left the tent, Tear and Arach were already collapsing theirs, tenderly talking to each other, while Zentam sat cross-legged next to the sputtering remains of the campfire, tunelessly whistling while roasting bread and bacon over the embers. I briskly crossed the clearing and bent over the little brook bubbling merrily over its bed of smooth, polished stones. I was utterly drained, not even the magic of my bedroll powerful enough to chase my demons away. But despite my fatigue, I looked the same as ever, blazing green eyes, unruly mane of auburn tresses, just the tips of my ears showing through the constantly shifting hair. My delicate elven features barely showed a hint of my true emotions, only the merest shadow under my eyes was a reminder that I was too afraid to really let go in Leo’s arms and try to find some sleep, cuddled against the bulwark of his chest. Snarling, I shattered my mirror image, dipping both hands into the stream and splashing soothing, cool water into my face. Taking a deep breath, I finished cleaning up and returned to the others. Arach and Leo were busy bringing down the second tent while Tear was getting into her armor, a softly hissing chain shirt made from the finest mithral links.

“So, what’s our plan for today?” I asked, sitting down next to Zentam and fishing for a slice of bread.

“Hopefully we can reach Valcrest before nightfall, then it’s only two more days until we’re in Miller’s Crossing, where the Medusa is said to lair,” Leo explained.

“Wonderful. I could do with a bed and a nice bath,” Tear sighed, brushing some errant hair out of her face.

“We’ve been out of Storm Harbour for what, three days? Are you getting soft already?” I challenged her.

A moment later Tear was on me, her arms wrapped around my neck, her lips brushing my cheek. I could practically feel her grin as she whispered, “Shi, I’m a decadent, lusty dark elf. Sex in a bed is so much better than tossing around on the forest floor, where pebbles and branches have a habit of poking sensitive places all too often. And I am soft indeed, see?” With that, her lips gently brushed my cheek. I gulped air into my mouth, trying to force it past the huge lump in my throat.

For one bizarre moment, I was again lying on the wet, sticky floor of the Hall Of Speakers, Hael’quira writhing on top of me, and all I could do was moan helplessly as she speared her magically grown pole into my aching pussy, my body completely betraying me, welcoming that hermaphroditic abomination. Her mouth pressed on mine, kissing, obscenely gentle while she hammered herself into me. Her eyes glowed in a pulsating red and her voice sounded like a chorus of lost souls, each sigh, groan and maniacal little chuckle amplified through another, silky voice that set my hairs on end. And then I felt it, her throbbing member erupting in a hot fountain of unholy seed, spraying deep into my violated center.

“See, I can be soft and pleasant. All you have to do is spread your legs for me. I really wish I could take you with us, to be my very own fuck toy,” Hael’quira gasped as she pulled out of me. “But Mother has decreed that you are to deliver our message to your cursed kin here. Will you do that for us, Shilana, sweetling?”

I nodded helplessly, my face pressed into soft fabric.

“Really?” I heard someone ask in surprise. Blinking the tears -- when did I start crying? - from my eyes, I looked up, straight into Arach’s sympathetic amber eyes. I realized that it was her who held me, with Tear kneeling behind her, worry and compassion on her expressive face. Only then I realized she was speaking Dark Elven, a language I had studied long and hard to master. You needed to be able to understand your enemies, after all.

“What did you ask just now?” I snapped at her. It was so much easier to keep my distance. I didn’t want to open this particular can of worms any farther than it had already, and I was afraid they would tell Leo.

“I just wanted to know if it was fine if I held you until you were done. The things you said just now were ... unsettling. Let’s talk when we’re in Valcrest, just you, Tear and I, all right?” she offered. “And if I may say so, your command of our language is commendable.” The little minx even grinned at me!

“Maybe. If I’m in the mood,” I hissed, frantically looking around if Leo or Zentam had witnessed me losing it. Of course, after all, it was only the five of us here. But there was no judgment in his eyes. So, maybe me speaking in tongues had saved me from the worst embarrassment. Wiping the last errant tear away, I rose. Arach looked a little shirty at my brusque behavior. Usually, I couldn’t have cared less, but I felt rather diplomatic, so I bent down, mustering all my willpower, and brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Maybe,” I repeated. For some reason, her sudden smile almost hurt.

“But don’t you get any funny ideas, child,” I snapped, retrieving my backpack which someone was kind enough to set down nearby.

“I told ya she’s gonna be fine,” Zentam told Leo, unnecessarily.

After trotting through the forest for most of the day, we eventually reached Valcrest, a small walled city along the land trade route which connected Storm Harbour with the rest of the Western Continent. When I had reached this particular end of the continent in my mad quest to kill every dark elf I could find almost a century ago, Valcrest was little more than an inn sitting at a crossroads with a blacksmith who shod draft animals and made crude repairs to broken-down wagons and a couple farms supplying food to Storm Harbor. But soon afterwards, a wealthy adventurer chose this particular spot to settle down, turning the area around Valcrest into a haven of civilization in an otherwise wild and untamed region. With security came trade, and soon the little patch of dirt had changed into the small, wealthy settlement we saw before us.

“It’s not Storm Harbour, but it’ll do,” Zentam grinned.

“The Bored Basilisk is one of the finest watering holes this side of the mountains,” I said.

“You certainly know your way around good drink,” the dwarf grinned and petted my butt fondly.

I arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you trying to lay me, fuzzy face?”

His grin turned vicious at the insult. “Only if I want ter fall asleep in the middle of it. Everybody knows that elves are frigid.”

A chorus of complaints answered him. Arach and Tear peppered him with barbed jests and bawdy suggestions, what they would do with him when they would catch him in the bath.

“My, he’s suddenly become quite the ladies magnet,” I giggled at Leo, slipping my arm into the nook of his elbow.

“No wonder. They say dwarves are made from one third iron, one third fire and one third hot air,” Leo chuckled back.

“I heard that, paladin. Just you wait. Maybe next time there will be no heroic Zentam at yer back when a dragon tries to chomp ya,” Zentam snarled, but even through his mighty beard, we could easily see his broad grin.

“Then it is doubly fortuitous that Shilana has decided to come with us, to pick up your slack,” Leo teased, his arm going around my shoulders and squeezing me against him.

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