Chapter 7: Ildernass

***ERIK – Temple Sura, Ekistair***

Erik reclined back on the soft cushions beneath him and folded his hands behind his head, relishing the warm, wet sensations emanating from his cock. Looking down past the dense hairs on his chest, he could see the silky brown tresses bobbing up and down over his groin. He moaned at the talented tongue and lips that pleasured him.

He had been granted two sunstones for his modest quarters deep in the Temple, as had the other aronduri, but two were ample, filling his bedchamber with a dimmed, gentle glow. They could shine brighter, if one desired, provided they were charged, but Erik wanted a more intimate feel this evening. This night was a night of contemplation, and of comfort.

Three nights gone, Aran, Smythe and Elaina had left the Temple, along with Induin and Liaren and Kedron. The aronduri – Erik included – had offered to travel with them, but the need of haste and stealth for the arohim had been apparent, which is why most of the aronduri remained at the Temple. With nothing to do but work and hope for their safe return, Erik and the other Servants had done just that. Now, the work was done, and there was naught left to do but enjoy each other’s company in the most pleasurable way possible.

He felt a little guilty for indulging himself while the others were out there in danger, but Amina’s words from earlier today had been wise: “The Paladins have their quest, and you have yours, aronduri. Support the Temple, and celebrate what we are all building together. Honour their efforts with your love and passion for each other.”

It was either that or go mad with worry for the Paladins. Erik never thought he’d see even one Paladin in his lifetime, but here he was, living in a real Temple, with three Paladins and a Priestess! If something befell Aran or Smythe or Elaina, Erik didn’t know if the Temple would be able to continue without them.

Aran’s meldin were all spending the evening together, and Amina was busy with Sara and the new Arohim twins, which left Erik, Lynelle, Sylvia and Liddea alone together, just like back in Maralon, when the Heralds had chased them underground.

A fire blazed on the small hearth against one wall, the flickering light playing across his lover’s creamy skin as she slid her lithe, nude body over his and straddled him. Erik looked into Lynelle’s soulful Elvish eyes and lost himself there for a moment. Just slightly larger than a Human’s eyes, they were liquid brown pools that threatened to drown him, and he would be happy to do it. Hair the colour of rich mahogany fell about his face like a soft curtain as she bent down to capture his lips with hers, her agile tongue slipping into his mouth to dance with his. Erik’s hands wandered over her slender frame; her back, her thighs, her bottom, and he wished he had more than two hands so he could feel all of her at once.

Nearby, on the plush rug before the fire, Liddea and Sylvia were engaged in a heated kiss, each woman unclothed and with a thigh between her lover’s. The slight and slender Elf was on top, her petite breasts mashed into the outrageous chest of the Dwarf’s, providing an excellent show for Erik, as if he didn’t already have enough to go on.

Lynelle sighed with satisfaction as she settled herself down on his hardness, the sweet folds of her bald pussy parting to allow him entry. She pushed herself upright, planting hands on his chest and arching forward, offering the bounty of her breasts for his enjoyment.

Erik accepted the offer, capturing the soft flesh in the palms of his hands and gently squeezing, then alternating to light, feathery touches, teasing the silky skin beneath his fingers. At a century-and-a-half old, Lynelle was only just beginning to outgrow the willowy, slender frame of a young Elf woman; in a few hundred years, her breasts would easily fill his hands and more, but right now they were a perfect handful.

A beautiful smile crossed Lynelle’s face at the pleasant sensations, and she looked down at him hotly, her eyes lidded with desire.

Erik no longer marveled at the fact that it was even possible for him to be making love to such a creature as Lynelle, a descendant of the Tar’elda that had fled Ekistair centuries ago. Since choosing to follow the path of his mother and father as an arondur, he had had many wondrous experiences with women from many different lands and peoples.

Putting his thoughts aside, he devoted his attention to the beauty atop him as she began to gyrate her hips, stirring his cock in her molten depths.

“Not so long ago,” Lynelle began breathily as she rode him. “It was just us, trapped beneath Maralon, fearing for our lives and with only each other for comfort.”

Erik smiled up at her. “Some of the best days of my life, vanima, despite the circumstances.” Vanima meant ‘beauty’ in Elvish, a word that almost came close to describing the woman making love to him. Erik spoke many languages but found Elvish to be the most elegant and graceful tongue of them all. In fact, many words in other tongues were derivatives of ancient Elvish.

Lynelle beamed back, and lay down, putting her silky skin against his hairy chest. Her lips were at his ear. “I was so happy to know Sylvia and I were not alone, that there were still others out there like us.” Sylvia, whom was now kneeling with her face buried between Liddea’s plump thighs, was Lynelle’s daughter. She was a Per’elda, a half-Elf; her father was a Human, though he had passed many years ago.

Lynelle’s voice suddenly became more sultry. “Do you remember the first time you fucked me?”

Erik groaned, lifting his hips to drive himself deeper into her clenching cunt. His hands found her ass and pulled her down more tightly, pinning their bodies together. Lynelle’s answering moan vibrated against his ear. He remembered well the first time he and Lynelle had made love. Years without contact with another aronduri, and suddenly he finds himself seeking shelter in the hidden ruins of a Temple beneath Maralon with three all at once? And all of them women, no less! Erik had pinched himself several times that day, in case it was all a dream. Thankfully, it had not been.

Liddea, Lynelle and Sylvia had already sought refuge in the Hidden Temple when Erik first arrived. Their meeting had been one of joy and excitement, for none of them had known about the existence of the others. Aronduri did sometimes communicate through obscure means, but always through ciphers and never exchanging real names, for it could always be a Herald spy at the other end of a message.

A week or so after that, Aran, Sorla and Sara had appeared with Heralds on their heels, though fortunately the location of the Temple had not been compromised.

Erik bucked insistently, driving himself up into his lover with passionate force, and she moaned into his ear, tangling her fingers into the rug beneath them. Finally, his skin slick with sweat from exertion and the heat in the room, he erupted into Lynelle’s hot pussy, gripping her tightly until his cock ceased its spasms.

The gorgeous Elf rolled off him gracefully, laying back on the rug with her thighs apart. She eyed him happily. “That was well needed, hanno.”

“Aye,” he agreed, running his eyes over her body before meeting her gaze and grinning. At that moment, Liddea cried out her own release, gripping firm handfuls of her mountainous tits and lifting her hips up off the rug, trying to press herself harder against Sylvia’s tongue.

Erik watched with interest, loving the contrast of the two very differently shaped women by the fire. Plump and buxom alongside nubile and slender. Fiery red hair beneath golden. His cock twitched with signs of life as he raked his eyes over Sylvia’s upturned ass where she knelt between Liddea’s thighs.

Lynelle sat up smoothly, leaning back on her hands and watching the two women with a smile. Sylvia rose from between Liddea’s thighs with a grin and wiped the juices from her mouth before she nimbly scrambled around and squatted over Liddea’s face, putting her bald pussy within easy reach of the Dwarf’s tongue. Liddea’s hands came up to grip the per’elda’s perky ass, and Sylvia gathered up big handfuls of Liddea’s tits, squeezing the massive pale orbs and pinching the pink nipples.

Erik’s cock was now at full attention once again, and seeing this, Lynelle idly took hold of him while she watched the women. He groaned as she began to stroke slowly. “Does it ever feel strange?” he asked her quietly. “That it’s your daughter over there? I don’t know how I would feel if it were my daughter or son.”

Lynelle looked at him, her fine features confused. “Why would it be strange?”

Erik sat up, but leaned back like Lynelle. She continued caressing his shaft. “I’m uncertain how it works for the Elda,” he said slowly. “But we Humans do not regard our offspring in an intimate way.” Truthfully, he had studied Elvish cultures extensively, but he’d never discovered any writings of the inner intricacies of familial bonds.

Lynelle laughed softly. It was a rich, musical sound. Very pleasing to the ears. “You mistake me, hanno,” she told him. ‘Hanno’ was the Elvish word for ‘brother.’ “Have you ever seen Sylvia and I together in that way? Just the two of us?”

Erik thought for a moment. Plenty of times he’d been with either woman, or both at the same time, but now that he thought of it, no, he hadn’t ever seen them together alone. He shook his head in answer to her question.

“We may be ... free ... around one another,” Lynelle explained, her hand never ceasing its pleasant squeezing. “But my daughter and I are not lovers. We are uninhibited around each other, as all families should be, but we do not make love.”

“Erik!” Sylvia suddenly called. She was still straddling Liddea’s face, grinding her smooth pussy back and forth. “Come and fuck Liddea! She’s craving more cock!”

Erik and Lynelle both chuckled as one at Sylvia’s youthful exuberance. “You had better do as she says,” Lynelle purred, giving his cock a few more quick tugs before releasing him. “She can be very persistent.”

“Right, then,” Erik responded with a firm nod. “Better get to it. What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” she said with a wink as she slipped a hand between her legs. “I enjoy watching, sometimes.”

A moment later, Erik was kneeling between Liddea’s spread thighs and looking down at the plump, bald pussy awaiting his entrance. The pale outer lips were thick, framing the glistening pink slit between them. He lined himself up quickly, sliding the head of his cock up and down her wetness until he was thoroughly lubricated.

Sylvia suddenly fell forward, catching herself with one hand on the floor. With her free hand, she grasped his cock and angled it down. Her emerald eyes caught his, shining with lust and excitement just as much as the reflection of the sunstones. “Fuck her, Erik. I want to see you disappear into her cunt!”

Leaning down, Erik pressed a hot kiss onto Sylvia’s mouth, then drove his hips forward, slipping into Liddea’s warm pussy with little resistance. The busty Dwarf uttered a cry of pleasure, muffled by Sylvia’s snatch.

Pleasurable, fiery heat enveloped Erik’s cock, but it came as no surprise. Dwarves, for some reason, had higher internal body temperatures than other races, so Liddea’s pussy always felt a good deal warmer than others. The scholar in him could not help but wonder why that was. There were many theories written by as many different scholars, from Dwarves being descendants of Fire Dragons, or maybe Fire Giants, to their bodies having adapted to long centuries in the cold ground, thereby developing its own heating source.

Whatever it was, it made for an amazing sensation during sex. Gripping her body just beneath the ribs, he began to pump her with vigour. Her molten, velvet tunnel clenched him tightly, unwilling to let him draw back before each new thrust. Erik was no Arohim, able to fuck all day without quarter, but he was also no slouch; he’d learned a few things in his twenty-odd years as arondur, like how to contain his pleasure and excitement to extend that of his lover’s. It was amazing what you could find in books if you looked carefully enough.

Sylvia was down on both hands now, bracing herself above Liddea’s shaking body. Her golden hair with its long braid over each ear dangled down to brush Liddea’s belly. The Half-Elf began to quake as she hit another peak, her slim hips bucking as Liddea’s tongue brought her over the edge. Sated, she slid off to the floor, lying on her back with her legs apart, breathing hard.

Erik eyed her nubile body as she recovered. Hopefully he would get a chance to fuck Sylvia tonight, but if not, then the next occasion would not be far away. Such was the life he was lucky enough to lead.

There was no warning for what happened next. One moment, he had been in a comfortable stride fucking Liddea, and the next, he was roaring with pleasure, his body spasming wildly as his balls contracted and emptied themselves into the sexy Dwarf. Hot fluids gushed from Liddea’s pussy, spraying his lower abdomen as he spurted uncontrollably into her body. Dimly, he was aware of Sylvia lying next to him, arching her back off the floor as she writhed in sweet agony. He thought he heard similar screams from Lynelle, too.

When his senses returned, he was lying on his back, looking up at the stone ceiling. His body felt strange; wrung out from the intense pleasure, but also energised. A look around the room showed him the three women recovering, their breath still coming in pants.

“I am sorry for having to do that so abruptly, children,” said a voice like honey. “But I need you.”

Erik surged to his feet and turned to the door, where Amina stood, her arms crossed beneath her generous bosom. She wore her usual robe, her vaima, and his mouth went dry as he regarded her lush body. “Priestess!” He greeted, bowing smoothly. “How may I serve?”

Liddea, Lynelle and Sylvia picked themselves up from the floor and made bows of their own as Amina stepped gracefully into the room. Her sapphire eyes took them all in, her face unreadable but for a small curve at the corners of her full lips. Erik had been around the goddess-like Priestess enough to know that meant she was serious, but not grave.

“It appears that there is a group of people heading our way,” she began. “I do not believe there is cause for alarm, however,” she added when she saw concerned expressions. “Aran came to me on the Plane last night and informed me that he may be sending troubled villagers our way, for their own protection.”

“Of course, Priestess,” Erik replied. That sounded exactly like the sort of thing Aran would do. He was a very interesting young man, Aran Sunblade. Erik hoped to catalogue many of Aran’s adventures so that future generations might read about him. “How long until they arrive? I will ride out to meet them and guide them through the passes. Where shall we house them?”

Amina smiled at him, but said nothing for a moment. Her eyes seemed to look into him, as if searching for something. “I have not yet decided, Erik arondur,” she said finally. “I think I will leave that decision in your capable hands.”

Erik cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable. What under the Sun was he supposed to do? Bringing new people in was risky, but surely Aran and Smythe had considered this already. Well, if this is what Amina wanted... “Yes, Priestess,” he found himself saying, despite his reluctance to be responsible for the safety of the Temple. “As you say.”

“Very good,” Amina said warmly. “Aran says the refugees will arrive sometime the day after tomorrow. Work with your sisters on this, Erik, but you are in charge. I have full faith in all of you.”

“Thank you, Priestess,” Erik murmured, echoed by the others. His mind was already spinning when Amina turned and glided from the room, the globes of her bottom bouncing alluringly beneath her vaima.

Once she was gone, Erik turned to the three women, two of them a head shorter than he, one a little taller. They all watched him expectantly. He’d never been in a position to make big decisions before, but he would die before letting the Temple down. “Right,” he said with more confidence than he felt. “It appears we have work to do.” He bent to scoop up his vaima and donned it, loosely tying the sash at his waist.

The others did the same, and Erik led them from his quarters and down the corridor a little way, to a large room once intended for eating. A long table of polished blackwood had been restored by Sunstone, as had several of the chairs. Currently, this room had no purpose, but Erik had the perfect plan for it, now.

“We’re going to need light, and maps, and paper, pens and ink.” He said to no one in particular as he cast his eyes around the dark room. When he turned back, the women were gone. A short time later, they returned one by one, Lynelle with maps rolled up under a slim arm, Liddea with paper and pens and a bottle of ink clutched against her tremendous bosom, and Sylvia holding three small Sunstones, freshly charged judging by the blaze that illuminated her pixie-like features.

They got to work, arranging the room until it resembled something like war-rooms Erik had read about, where generals and commanders planned out their battle strategies. The maps were rolled out on the long table, weighed down at the corners by small chunks of stone that had once been part of the walls.

“They will likely be coming from the southeast,” Lynelle said as she scanned the maps. The four Servants stood at the table, Erik on one side, the women on the other, all looking down at Lynelle’s slim finger as it traced a line connecting a concentration of farms to the southeast of the mountains, back to the Temple. Several villages surrounded by farms were scattered haphazardly across the green expanse that denoted the Sorral Plain. Ironshire lay still further to the southeast, a few days’ ride from the northern border of the Emerin Forest.

Looking at the map, Erik had to agree with Lynelle. He also thought he could piece together Aran’s intentions somewhat. He found himself wondering what he himself would do in Aran’s position. A much larger enemy force – the Heralds – with men stationed in Ironshire, and patrolling the Plain. Erik was no general, but he had read countless books, many of them describing in detail battles and wars.

Suddenly it was like Erik could see lines on the map that weren’t there before, and he was ready to bet his balls that he knew what Aran was doing. “He’s going to draw them all out,” he whispered to himself as he traced with his fingers the routes he was sure Aran was using. He could almost see Aran, Smythe and Kedron striking at Herald patrols in the night, invisible until the last moment. “But to where?”

His finger stopped where the green shading on the map gave way to curly, darker hues, denoting trees. “Clever, Anarion,” he said softly, forgetting about everyone else in the room momentarily, not seeing the way they were studying him curiously. “He must have gone to the Eryn’elda for aid, or sent someone in his stead, which explains why he took the twins with him. If the Elves are in place when the Heralds arrive, the Heralds will be cut to pieces among the trees.”

Erik suddenly realised he was thinking out loud, and looked up from the map to see three sets of eyes staring at him. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Forgive me, I seem to have lost myself for a minute there.”

“What else do you see?” Lynelle asked him, her eyes grave. “What risks are there?”

Erik looked back to the map. “Well, from what I gather, if I’ve assessed things correctly, Aran’s plan hinges on the Elves’ presence in the Emerin in order to ambush the Heralds. It’s a clever enough idea, but the risks stem from the Elves not arriving in time, or the Heralds not taking the bait and chasing Aran into the forest.”

He rested his fists on the table and pursed his lips, thinking. From what he could see, there was nothing more to be done except wait and hope.

“What of the refugees coming our way?” Liddea asked in her clipped accent. “The Temple is more than large enough to accommodate them.”

The others nodded, but Erik wasn’t so sure. “At first, maybe,” he told his sisters. It sometimes felt a little strange, calling them sisters, but he was getting used to it, slowly. “But how many more might be coming behind them? How long would it take us to restore enough rooms to house them? Best if we find a solution that keeps them close, but out of the Temple proper, if we can.”

A long silence stretched as they considered options.

“What about Suravale?” Lynelle asked suddenly. Her hand went to the map of the Karvanis and her finger landed on a point on the south side of the range. “It was about here, before the Darkening, anyway, if my history is right.”

Erik nodded. “Yes, Suravale would be ideal, and its position would see it sheltered from the northerly storms coming in of late.” Suravale had once been a thriving town in the mountains, coexisting with the Temple. It would be a ruin, now, but it might be worth a look.

“Do you think there’s anything left of it?” Sylvia asked, leaning forward over the table. The front of her transparent robe drooped, and Erik could see all the way from her pert breasts down to the cleft between her thighs. She caught him looking and gave him a wink while making no attempt to adjust the vaima.

“It’s been abandoned since the Darkening,” Erik said thoughtfully. “But if the structures were well-made, there’s a chance it’s still habitable. I’ll ride out in the morning and see what’s what. Sylvia, will you accompany me?”

The pretty per’Elda grinned up at him from across the table. “Count me in! It will be nice to be outside again.”

Erik nodded at her. “Good. After we’ve seen Suravale, we’ll head down to the foothills and wait for the refugees. By the time we meet them, we’ll know if we’re bringing them inside the Temple or not.

“Lynelle, Liddea,” the Elf and Dwarf looked at him expectantly. This surprised Erik; he’d never issued any of them a direct command before, and here they were awaiting his orders. “You two should remain here and take care of the Temple, at least for now. Sylvia and I should be able to handle things well enough outside.”

Without further ado, the women left the makeshift war room to prepare, leaving Erik to his thoughts, and the maps.

“You did well, Erik.”

He looked up to see Amina swaying into the room and stopping on the other side of the table. Her ample breasts fell against the sheer fabric of her vaima as she leaned forward, placing both hands flat on the table. Her eyes scanned the map before capturing his gaze.

Erik had been in her presence dozens of times, now, but he still couldn’t stop his heart beating faster when she was around. When she looked at him or spoke to him, it galloped like a prime racer. “Thank you, High Priestess,” he found himself saying.

“You interpreted events correctly, for the most part.” She told him, her voice somehow both authoritative and sultry all at once. Her eyes fell back on the map, and she traced her fingers along the same lines as Erik had, though hers varied slightly in places. Southeast instead of due east here, north instead of northwest there. “Aran informed me of his movements last night. I have yet to hear from Elaina, but my heart tells me she is well.”

Erik hoped so. Elaina had shown him nothing but kindness and love from the moment she entered the Temple. Making love with her had been only a small step down in heavenly bliss from Amina herself.

Amina continued. “I hope to meet with both Aran and Elaina tonight, if possible. I would hear how things are in Ildernass, and how she fares with Aldin and Elessir.”

“The Lord and Lady of the Eryn’elda?” Erik asked.

Amina eyed him curiously. “I seem to forget how well read you are, arondur.” Her voice was tinged with amusement. “Indeed, the Lord and Lady of Ildernass. They were ever proud, but their hearts were of gold. I can only hope the long years have not jaded them.”

“And if they refuse aid?” He spoke the question softly, uncertain of the answer.

Amina’s slim fingers tightened into a fist on the map, nearly ripping the paper. “Then you, and I, and Sara, and everyone else in the Temple will ride to Aran and take the fight to the Heralds ourselves!” Her eyes blazed, and Erik found himself wanting to take a step back.

“However,” she added, unclenching her hand and smoothing the map where it had crinkled. She smiled warmly at Erik, her ferocity melting. “I do not think Elaina will allow anything but the result we require. She is capable, and the Elves have a long, prosperous history with the Arohim.”

A long moment of silence stretched out between them. Erik felt as if he could reach out and grasp the gravity of the moment. If Elaina failed...

“You are a scholar, Erik, are you not?” Amina asked suddenly. She began to round the table toward him, and Erik felt his body responding to the way hers shifted and swayed.

“I consider myself to be well read, yes, Priestess.” He swallowed as she came to a stop before him, so close that their vaima were almost brushing. He thought he could feel the heat of her lush body on his skin.

“You are being modest,” she said in a way that made him feel like the only man in the world. “Come. There’s something I want to show you.” Taking his hand, she led him from the makeshift war room.

***ELAINA – Ildnernass, Home of the Eryn’elda, Deep in the Emerin Forest***

Elaina stepped off the boat with a grateful sigh. She knew that the crew had pushed the Vorondil to her limits, and the sleek rivership had earned its name ‘Loyal Friend’ and more besides. The journey to Ildernass had taken no more than two days and a half.

She looked up and down the straight, clean docks fashioned from trees in a way that made the structure look as if it had grown that way naturally. That was the way the Eryn’elda did things; all natural curves and flowing lines. Beyond the dock, thick-boled, ancient trees densely crowded the riverbank, shielding unwanted eyes from the city that lay within. They towered up and up, and Elaina’s eyes followed them until their tops were lost in the glare of the noonday sun filtering through from above.

A whistle came from up there, somewhere, from a sentry, and was answered by another from Durien, who stepped up beside her. He was still shirtless, and his lean, hard body with good, square shoulders looked mouth-watering, but Elaina did not have time to play. Time was of the essence.

“Thank you, Captain,” she told him genuinely, trying not to get too lost in his sky-blue eyes. “Your efforts to get us here quickly will not soon be forgotten.”

Durien smiled and bowed deeply, taking her hand in his. “Anything for you, Elaina eruchen. Any time, any place.” His long silver hair shifted in the breeze as he looked down at her.

Elaina chuckled throatily, unable to keep the smokiness from her voice. “I’ll remember that, Captain.”

At that moment, Induin and Liaren appeared, though what they were wearing made Elaina’s eyes pop. “What is that?” She asked them with an even blend of amusement and admiration, gesturing to their attire.

The Elvish twins posed provocatively on the dock to better show off their garments, if they could be called that. Leaves attached to thin vines were twined elegantly – and sparingly – around their lithe bodies, the vines winding sinuously around limbs and torsos, with the largest leaves only just adhering to their most private parts, as if strategically placed to tease and entice without revealing absolutely everything.

When they turned around, the only thing visible other than flawless pale skin was a thin vine curving down their backs and between their pert buttocks, which connected to the lush leaf covering their pussies. Their feet were bare, though their ankles and calves were adorned with more vines.

“It is summer!” Induin said, as if that explained everything.

“You look like a pair of bloody Dryads!” Elaina laughed. “Though it does look good, I must say.”

“She doesn’t know,” Liaren whispered to her sister, but loudly enough for all to hear.

“Oh,” Induin replied, as if suddenly understanding something.

Both twins looked Elaina up and down critically, particularly her clothes. “We’re going to have to get you a change, and quickly,” Liaren told her.

Elaina opened her mouth to protest, but Induin quickly interjected. “We’re going to meet the Lord and Lady, and you can’t go like that!”

“Like what?” Elaina asked, not quite offended at their tone. “I look fine!” She turned to Durien for support, but found that he had quietly slipped away and was back on deck issuing orders to the crew. Men! “It shouldn’t matter what I wear,” she told the two scandalously dressed Eryn’elda. “I’m a Paladin, won’t they receive me well?”

Induin and Liaren shared a patient look. By the Gods, these two could be cheeky when they wished it! “It shouldn’t matter,” Induin began.

“But it does,” Liaren finished. “Believe us. The Lord and Lady are more than two thousand years old. Many things matter to them. If we want to convince them to help us, we’ll need to do everything we can. Besides, they won’t see us right away, they’ll want time to prepare.”