To Claim the Elvin Princess: Apprentice (2 page)

2

Rasten lost count of the number of times Amein made him enter her and experience yet another intense orgasm. That she seemed to have an unlimited sexual appetite was shocking, but it was her innocent and playful manner that astounded him; she acted like this was nothing out of the ordinary.

When they finally paused to go pee, he had a moment to collect his wits. He also discovered that she had no modesty, sitting on the toilet and peeing with no hesitation. He noted a strong scent from her urine, not unpleasant, but different, and thought to remake about this.

“Of course. An Elvin nose is a bit more sensitive than a human’s, all in all. We can track either humans or the Elvin ones just by where they stop to relieve themselves!” she glanced up at him, grinning. “You like the smell of my pee because of your elfish nature. The women here don’t affect you the same, do they?”

“I suppose not. Yours does seem...more interesting?” Amein giggled at this, before finishing, and standing.

“Your turn!” she said, and made no effort to not watch. Rasten found trying to pee while still rather erect to be difficult. Still, he managed, and Amein resisted the urge to play with him, seeing him struggling.

When they left the tiny bathroom, Rasten offered to fix something to eat.

“I assume you can eat what humans do?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Of course, but it won’t thrill me! We have our own ways with food!” she laughed.

“You certainly have a way with sex that humans have never experienced!” A glance at her showed her looking guilty. She finally sighed and shrugged.

“When we develop and become physically able to have sex we are still too young to properly mate. Since becoming pregnant does not become possible for many years, and isn’t something that can accidently happen when it is possible, we are encouraged to play and become experienced. More than one young elf gets in trouble for neglecting their duties, because they are playing with someone when they should be attending to other things! Still, we mostly behave and act proper, but we do get quite good at it. You see how strongly my smell arouses both of us?”

“How do you manage to not just rape each other constantly?” Rasten wondered, knowing what the fragrance of her female self had done, and was still doing to him.

“Elvin panties! You saw the ones I took off? They are woven of a special fabric, which lets them breath, so a female doesn’t get soaked and sweaty, but it holds in the essence of her sexual smell. Otherwise, we’d never get anything done!”

“I think when you first approached me, I could smell you anyway. Why was that?” Amein gave him a pouty frown.

“I’ve worn them over a week, just getting here! I also went that whole week having no one to play with!”

“Wow...you really get horny, don’t you?”

“If you mean I become desperate for being had sexually, then yes, a healthy elf does need much attention.”

“Will it take a week to go back to...where are we going?” Rasten suddenly thought to ask.

Amein hopped up to step close, slipping into his arms.

“It’s working!”

“What’s working?” he asked, puzzled. Amein looked at him, a slight blush spreading on her creamy white cheeks. She sighed heavily.

“When I prepared to come here, to search for you, I asked Midarini...he’s the Elder Sage of my clan....I asked him how I might be sure that you’d agree to come with me once I did find you. If I found you,” she added, in a hushed voice.

“That was a long shot?”

“More than I’d have dreamed! There are billions of humans here now! Your kind breed like mice!”

“If people knew how to have sex like you just showed me, they’re be a hundred billion here!” Rasten laughed.

“Probably!” Amein sighed, not sounding like she approved of the thought. “Anyway, he told me that since you were half human, you could likely be imprinted sexually by me,” she finished, her voice small.

“You’re making me so, what...I’ll be crazy for you and you alone?” Amein nodded.

“What about you? Do elves mate for life...or...you’re immortal, right? How does that work?!” he demanded. Amein looked miserable and helpless.

“No. We don’t. Mostly we stay together a few decades, and raise children, but then move on to another. We aren’t very faithful either,” she added.

“Does that cause strife?”

“Little. We all know how we are, so it seldom matters. Not like...humans...” she stopped.

“Do elves ever get more attached?”

“Sometimes. I have great grand parents who’ve been together almost a thousand years!”

“Why do I suspect that it’s frowned on for Elvin kind to do what you’re doing with me?” Rasten suddenly demanded. Amein looked stricken, and suddenly burst into tears.

“Oh, holy Amoroth! You have much truth sense!” she moaned, looking even more helplessly upset.

“What is truth sense?” Rasten asked, eyeing her, and reaching out to wipe her tears.

“It is the ability to hear a lie in another’s voice, or to intuitively know what is real from what is false. It is one of the greatest power one might possess!” she sighed, gazing at him.

“And so I knew you were not telling me everything? You are unbelievably cute when you look so guilty!”

“I certainly don’t feel cute! Rasten, we prize honesty greatly. I harm myself in coming here, willing to be less than honest to insure that you will return with me! Yet our people are desperate for what you may possess. I could not refuse this, once I knew it was possible. Please forgive me for this; I am subject to higher needs!”

“Much evil gets done here, by people believing they are acting for
the common good
, or in
the public interest
. Are you sure you know what you are really doing? I think I need to hear the truth, and all of it!”

“Very well, but it is a long tale, the origins of which began many thousands of years ago!”

In spite of his eagerness to hear her story, they took the time to eat, speaking of small things. One of them was the understanding that they might share thoughts.

“How does that work? You can hear what I’m thinking?” Amein shook her head, then looked down and shrugged.

“It’s more complicated than that. Mostly, I sense your aura, both the physical and your emotional one. We practice reading each other, especially when we are...what you’d call adolescents? And we get quite good at it! But for some reason no one understands, half-Elvin are easier to read, and share with. We can read humans sometimes, but it’s not dependable!” she declared nibbling on a piece of French bread.

“Why do I have no elfish features?” he wondered. “And how did my father manage to have no one notice him? What happened to him?” Amein suddenly laughed, her eyes bright.

“You might slow down so I can answer?” she teased. Rasten grinned at her, again awed by her beauty. He suddenly frowned and looked away. Amein reached for his hand.

“Do not hide your fears! You are terrified of wanting me, and not having me?” He managed to nod.

“It seems most unfair!” he loudly grumbled.

“It is. It wasn’t intended to be fair. It was chosen only from dire necessity, and I have condemned myself to being ashamed and guilty for doing this to you! We have long memories, as you might expect of beings who are immortal, and that incredible memory is quite wickedly able to keep our failings near at hand! Rasten, I can assure you that you will suffer much worse things than pining for me at times!”

“Well, is that supposed to help reassure me?!” he laughed. He took a drink, and toyed with his glass, watching her eat. When she looked back up, he spoke again, precise and quietly.

“You aren’t immune to being imprinted to me, are you?” he demanded. Amein turned red, and looked stricken. She sat, tears suddenly cascading down her cheeks. Finally, she managed to shake her head.

“I...I...the Elder...Midarini warned me that I was risking such a fate. Because we can sense each others emotions so much more deeply than two of my people might, I am much more vulnerable to becoming attached helplessly to you!” she sighed.

“Well, wouldn’t that be exciting! Does that strike you as a bit...fair, in light of what you’re trying to do to me?”

“That has come to me! It does little to please me, but I can not deny there is a...a bit of...justice in that.”

Seeing her miserable meme, he decided to ask something else.

“What do you know of my father?” It took a moment for her to change focus, and escape her funk.

“Sayarin was Sa-Taran lo Sayarineramin, Prince of the Sword of Honor. He was regarded as the greatest of warriors, a sage of the highest knowledge, and the Defender Against the Darkness. He fought and led us through some of the worst battles with our enemies, but many years ago, he discovered a new evil, using his...
inaueinerim...
it’s like farsight, only one can see the future...”

“Like having a vision?”

“Yes! Anyway, he saw that this would arise to vex us. Knowing that it was of a type and kind that we had never faced, he wished to be sure that, should he fall untimely, someone might have his powers, and be capable of guiding us; he decided to come here, and create you!”

“Just like that? Didn’t he tell anyone about me?”

“He wished few to know. Instead, he wrote in our family code, and hid it in our many tomes. He put away a letter, addressed to his daughter, to guide her in searching for the hidden information. He was a brilliant one!”

“What happened to him?”

“He fell in battle, against the barbarian forces of the Eridians, nearly one hundred and twenty years past!”

“Impossible! He was here...just twenty years ago, and got my mother pregnant!” Amein gave him a look that showed her disappointment.

“Wait...times moves differently here, than on other worlds?”

“Much better! Actually, time moves the same on every world within one universe. We are in a different universe from where our home world lies,” she suggested, raising her brows playfully.

“So my father is an Elvin prince and a hero?”

“One of the greatest of them!”

“So how did you get involved in this?”

“He’s my father!” she handily declared. The look on Rasten’s face was profound.

“I’m having sex with my...my...sister?!” he managed to gasp.

“Half sister. Oh, humans are touchy about that?” She got up, and went around the small table. Rasten slid his chair back, and she plopped her bare bottom in his lap. looking impishly in his eyes.

“The Elvin kind carry no...genetic flaws. You can mate with your sibling, parent or whatever, and you’ll have a strong, healthy, perfect child. Unlike what humans risk!”

“Is that common?” Rasten asked suspiciously.

“No, but it occurs frequently enough that no one pays it any mind!”

“So you won’t be in trouble for doing naughty things with me? Did you play with your brothers? Do you have other brothers?”

“Twenty Nine. And yes, I practiced with many of them when I first started out! I was a bit spoiled, being almost the youngest,” she sighed.

“Well, I suppose its good this isn’t a problem!” he declared, touching her intimately. He suddenly looked closely, and added, “It is a problem, isn’t it? Why?”

Amein again sighed. “Because you’re half-Elvin. We are forbidden to mate with them, unless...” she stopped suddenly.

“Unless what?”

“Unless they’ve proven themselves worthy of being elevated to the rank of Prince!” she sighed.

“What does that take?” he wondered suspiciously.

“Defeating hordes of evil demons, slaying dragons, that sort of thing!” she declared, emitting a tiny giggle.

“Great!” Rasten sighed, shaking his head.

“Come on, take care of my urges...that’s enough of a challenge for right now!” she said, eyes gleaming playfully.

3

The young woman who commanded the Eridian warriors rode into camp, seething with rage. She had carefully arranged a tryst with a man who had boasted of being able to please any woman, even a hard and reluctant Princess. That she had arranged for this to occur in private, far from any prying eyes, and had approached the boastful one while her features were transformed by her shape shifting powers, was intended to make sure not the least hint of failure might reach her forces ears, should anything go awry. That she had little patience, and even less hope that he might be capable of pleasing her had made her chances of success even less than slim.

Owing to her penchant for killing the ones who tried and failed, the number willing to take the young woman to bed, hoping to pleasure her enough to win her favor, were becoming fewer with each attempt.

This latest coupling had fared no better, and when she tired of his rude and less than gently touching of her female self, she had simply hacked him to death with her sword. Shocara might have been unskilled in the art of love, but she was a wicked master of hard steel. She had pleasured herself, an act that would have been considered beneath an Eridian, especially a Princess such as herself, and finding a small bit of the pleasure she hungered for, she slept fitfully, before rising, and riding back from the place she had met her unfortunate partner.

“Princess! Come...Ehgora has brought word from our friends in the Elvin lands!” An old man named Garen hastened to advise her. Shocara’s expression never changed from its harsh and bitter one, and she merely nodded.

“I want something to eat!” she instructed, and turned, not waiting for confirmation or agreement. Any who didn’t take her merest suggesting as an imperative order was likely to meet a cruel death, as well as a slow one.

She went into the small wooden building that served as both her quarters and as a place to meet those she desired to speak with, in this locale. There were three guards that watched from a respectful distance, out of earshot, to make sure none might slip close to listen in to anything she said. All were close family, loyal to her and her father.

Garen soon appeared with meat and bread, escorting the one who wished to speak with her. The guards let him pass, another retainer of proven worth, who was crippled by wounds earned in defense of her family and tribe. He knocked and announced himself, declaring their presence. Shocara’s voice bade them enter.

Garen handed her the pottery plate, with her food, and set a flagon of water close to her. He then retreated a respectful two paces, and he and the other man sat, cross legged like Shocara, and waited to be regarded. She ignored them several moments, choosing to devote her attention to her food. Her naked sword lay inches from her thigh, should any need for defense arise.

When she finally looked at them and nodded, the one named Ehgora began to speak.

“Beloved Princess! Something of great strangeness is afoot in the Elvin lands! Princess Amein has gone to another world, using the sorcery of their people! It is rumored that she has gone to find some great warrior!” the man intoned, breathless, clearly hoping she would be impressed by this news. Instead she laughed profoundly. Ehgora sat frozen, shocked by her manner. Much had been risked to gather such information, and she merely found it amusing?

“Poor Ehgora, forgive me, but your words seem unlikely and farfetched. What other world might the Elvin kind be privy to?” she chuckled, wiping her mouth with her hand. Her amusement was plain, and made her look less foreboding, and more astoundingly beautiful. It also made her look much younger.

“How can it be that your father has not taught you of such things? The Elvin have many arcane powers, and are free to move about, from one magical world to another. They use great magic, and something called a gate, to affect such wonders!”

“And you’ve seen such a thing?” Shocara asked, her voice cutting.

“No, but such things are plainly known among the Elvin. They make no effort to hide such powers, and thus our spies hear tell of them,” Ehgora sighed, uncomfortable lecturing one such as Shocara, who might take offense and simply hack him to death. “Please forgive me, Princess, I mean in no way to belittle your knowledge. While I have not with my own eyes seen this Elvin magic, I have witnessed yours, and it is most impressive!” he hastily declared, hoping to sooth her feelings; Shocara was known to be touchy and temperamental. One causing her offense likely felt her blade in short order.

“Assuming such might be true, where is this gate that you speak of? Can you answer that?” she demanded, her fingers , still greasy from the meat, lightly caressing the hilt of her sword.

“I am told it is in the great building to the north of the great Citadel, what the Elvin call the Clan home. It is well and constantly guarded...” the man sighed.

“How interesting. Perhaps we might use it to find strong warriors to aid our people, against the accursed Elvin!” she spoke, idly considering this. That the Elvin were great fighters, who had time after time beat back the Eridians, was as foul as a well rotted dead thing to her sense of rightness. She longed to be victorious as none before had done. So far her efforts were mixed, some small battles won, but others had ended with painful loss of men and arms. Her successes owed more to her sorcery than to their arms, a thing that annoyed many.

“What else have you heard?” she asked, before taking another bite of the juicy meat.

“I have spoken to Atorin, our friend among the shapeshifters...he tells me that they have placed two of their people among the Princesses’ own home. They have mastered the art of acting Elvin, so perfectively that even in the throes of passion, they remain undetectable! I am sure we will learn much from them!”

“Unless the changed ones are fools, and known fully to the Elvin. If such is true, they will learn only what the Elvin wish them to believe!”

“Dear Princess, don’t accord the Elvin with more power than they have!” Ehgora suggested, chuckling. He soon had the point of Shocara’s blade touching his throat.

“Don’t treat me as a fool...I have faced the Elvin, and had myself nearly killed by them! They are mighty foes, and wickedly skilled in arts we don’t possess! Only a madman would belittle their abilities!” she snarled.

“Forgive me, princess...I must beg you to excuse my poor words; I have never faced them on the field of battle. Yet in their place, they seem much less rabid and vicious than I would expect for such warriors!” he replied, sweating, as her blade moved slightly still a mere inch from his naked neck.

“Perhaps it is because they have no need to guard their back each second of the day or night!” she insisted, disgustedly. She let her sword fall gently from her fingers, to rest beside her. “Have you been in any of their cities?” she asked, curious.

“Only once, disguised as a trader. I was...it is...” he fell silent, reluctant to admit how impressed he had been.

Shocara sat, staring into space. “I saw the place they call Usharian from afar...it was quite stunning. I would wish that our people might possess such a magnificent thing...”

“Perhaps when you are victorious over them...” Ehgora suggested, wishing to curry favor.

“Get out! Don’t come back until you have news of more substance!” she commanded, and the man scurried to obey. At the door, Garen paused, sensing her upset; he had served her since she was a girl of eight.

“You should speak with your father, no matter how much you don’t wish to,” he advised her. She glanced up, and shrugged.

“You’re quite right...I have no desire to, but will anyway. Thank you, dear Garen,” she whispered, he being one of the very few she trusted completely.

Shocara finished her food, and wiped her hands on her leather pants. Standing up, she sheathed her sword, and went outside, to summon those she wished to speak with. This mostly consisted of the tribal leaders, on whom her position as leader depended. That her father had ruled by right of birth, and was now too weak and crippled a man, obsessed with his spells and sorcerous potions, to lead them in battle, would have let the position pass to a son. Yet all his sons had fallen, perishing at the hands of the Elvin. This left Shocara as the unlikely one to command, her skill and prowess being amazing, and her will second to none. Others might wish their family to ascend to the lofty place of Eridian Master, but no one now wished to cross swords with her to win such a prize. The five who had tried were rapidly eliminated, by being hacked to death at her hands.

She wasted no time in making her thoughts known.

“Prepare for an attack. Word says that Princess Amein is not available to command the Elvin. We must take advantage of this opportunity!”

“And how should we do this? Won’t they expect such a tactic?”

“Of course! They are wise and well able to plan against us. They will expect us to attack a remote and hard to defend place, such as their outpost on the sea. We shall send a small force to do what they expect...” she insisted, eyeing all of the men, many who were twice her age, she being barely past twenty five. No one spoke, but the look on their faces displayed there doubts as to her sanity.

“I said a small force. We will take some of our best fliers and attack the one place they won’t ever dream that we would be crazy enough to attack; the Clan Home, Alarinad!” The silence was substantial, their expressions astounded. If she had wished to shock these ones, she could have found no better way to do so.

“How can you hope to take such a place?!” someone finally exclaimed, forgetting who he was speaking to.

“I never said we would take it. I wish only to strike a firm blow. The Elvin think us insignificant and unworthy as foes. I wish to make them hurt and fear us. A blow against the place they consider beyond our reach will touch them profoundly and make them keep more of their warriors in the city, thus making other places easier for us to attack!”

The leaders considered this, and soon found themselves agreeing with her logic. That no other had considered this did much to reinforce their awe of her.

“We must consider how we can move a large force close enough to attack, without being noted by the Elvin!” one named Gurdia suggested, looking thoughtful. Shocara gave him a wicked grin.

“We could start by having everyone shave their beards, and cut their hair, so as to look less Eridian from a distant!” she suggested, expecting to be met with outrage, these being regarded as necessary signs of Eridian manhood. Their shock was intense enough, but they all feared to protest, certain that Shocara might decide to order such a thing, simply to have her way.

“While we’re at it, I’d suggest a bath too, so that the Elvin might be less able to smell us coming!” she added, eyes gleaming; the Eridian considered their personal fragrance manly and a badge of maleness. The women mostly did likewise simply because it was pointless to smell less aromatic than the men.

Seeing her expression, they all felt doomed.

“She’s serious!” someone whispered.

“Oh, am I ever!” Shocara declared smugly, curious to see what they might be like if all got clean at once.