A Midsummer Night in Lorien (mf, interracial Elf/Human)
by Redvenom (redvenom_my@yahoo.com)

Author's Summary: This story is based on the background of the
Warhammer Fantasy Role-Play game, and is more story than sex. But
do Elvish women get horny?




The forest creatures were momentarily silenced as a mounted rider
moved almost soundlessly into the sun-drenched glade. The man was
clad in the garb of a ranger, complete with a worn and faded
cloak that had seen much better days. Pin pricks of light
reflected off the dark close-woven chainmail rolled into a neat
bundle behind the rider. Strapped to the saddle of the massive
warhorse a helmet peeked out from under the shadow of a large axe
in its worn leather sheath.

Despite the warlike nature of the his belongings, a casual smile
was on the face of the rider as he nudged his huge steed forward,
enjoying the warmth of the sun. If there were observers present,
they would not have failed to notice the care with which the man
guided the iron-shod hooves from trampling the delicate clumps of
wild blooms that sprouted everywhere.

Satisfied with his find, the rider halted in front of the large
weathered stone monolith which dominated the glade. Standing
several times the height of a man and weighing several tons, the
way-stone had been set in ages past as a marker. Ancient script
still flowed across the grey surface of the stone, cautioning all
unwelcome visitors who would enter and despoil the woods of Athel
Loren, the last enclave of Elves in the Old World.

Covered in virgin forests since before the appearance of humans
in the Old World, the forests of Loren were old beyond the
measure of men and have been home to the fabled Wood Elves for
more than a three thousand years. History records several
meetings between humans and Elves, though not always in pleasant
circumstances. The tragic endings of foolish humans who have
dared the guardians of the forests litter the histories of
Bretonnia and the Empire. Men have learnt to respect the archery
of the Wood Elves.

An uneasy peace has settled in between the Elves and Men for more
than four centuries. Still, in current times, few men travel
close to the forest and none pass the forbidding monoliths save
perhaps appointed emmissaries of King Louis of Brettonia. Even
then, these few men tell of unseen guardians and watchful forest
spirits following their every move.

The rider seemed unconcerned with such fears as he dismounted,
unpacking belongings from his saddlebags, uncovering a small loaf
of hard bread and a waterskin. As the man began to eat, a small
woodland squirrel, braver than its kin, appeared nearby in
expectations of a feast. With gentle slowness, the man placed a
small lump of bread on a convenient stone before retreating
several yards to continue his lunch. When he looked again, the
bread was gone. With lunch completed, the man arranged his cloak
and waited.

Dusk came. As the dying rays of the sun began to wane over the
treetops, a slim figure appeared as if by magic beside the
mononith. The man watched, marvelling at the stranger's
woodcraft. There was no warning sound or movement. The figure was
just there in an instant. Finely-chiselled features and silvery
blonde hair showed beneath a hood of grey-green. An Elf of Athel
Loren, no less. With an experienced eye, the man also noted the
strung bow resting loosely in the newcomer's right hand. A Glade
Guard, guessed the man. One of the many scouts who keep watch on
the forest borders.

Standing slowly, the man raised his right hand in greeting.
'Peace and fair weather, friend,' he greeted the newcomer in
Brettonian tradition. The accent, though diluted from many years
of wandering, was of Kislev, the icy kingdom north of the Empire.

Receiving no reply from the elf, the man continued. 'I am Kael
and I have wandered far in my journeys. By your laws, no human
may pass beyond the way-stones without leave from the guardians
of the forest. I would like such leave for I have an quest to
fulfil.'

'And why should Elves grant you leave to trespass on our sacred
land? If it is magical baubles you seek, it will be wise to seek
them elsewhere.'

Despite the coldness of the tone, the voice was of such musical
quality that Kael was left in no doubt as to the origins of the
speaker. It was difficult to tell if the speaker was male or
female. Voices to bring tears to the eyes, his father had once
said fittingly.

'I have not come seeking a treasure but to return one.'

Taking care to keep his hands in sight, Kael moved to his
saddlebags and brought out a well-wrapped object. Beneath the
soft doeskin, a soft gleam of gold shone in his hands. Kael
noticed that the Glade Guard had intense violet eyes as the Elf
moved forward to observe the object with new interest. Kael
noticed for the first time that he was speaking to an Elf woman.

The round brooch was of gold with a cunning design of vines
curling around the rim, set with berries of jade. The
worksmanship was exquisite, and far beyond the talents of mere
human craftsmen.

'This brooch is from a friend and companion named Finnlas. A
kinsman of the forest. He fell in battle with orcs in the Border
Princes south of the Empire. It is his wish that this be returned
to his kin that dwell in Loren.'

Recognizing the origin of the object in Kael's hands, the Elf
turned about and signalled with a hoot of an owl. 'I am Emer.
Come, we will move quickly. We have many miles to travel'

As Kael moved towards his horse, the Elf woman added, 'Leave your
horse behind. He will be cared for.'

Though loath to leave his faithful charger behind, Kael nodded
and followed the slim figure into the forest.

As a wanderer for many years, Kael had learnt his woodcraft by
dint of hard experience where it was a matter of survival to be
able to hunt and move silently. He had been proud of his skills
until he watched the Elf woman glide like a phantom from shadow
to shadow. Avoiding gravel and dead leaves with effortless skill,
the Elf walked as if on air, leaving no trail behind her. Behind
her, Kael laboured to keep up, feeling as clumsy as an Orc by
comparison.

...

Kael was led to a tall Elf who stood alone beneath a beech tree
of awesome size. Kael realized at once that this was no common
Elf. Though the finely-chiselled face was ageless in the way of
Elves, deep wisdom glimmered in the keen blue eyes. Though clad
in plain grey robes lacking in finery, an aura of authority
seemed to radiate from the figure.

Emer moved forward to converse briefly in Eltharin with the tall
Elf before turning to Kael. 'This is Fionn. Sire to Finnlas,'
Emer said.

Clearing his throat, Kael introduced himself, 'Peace and fair
weather. I am Kael Darkmane of Kislev.'

The intense blue eyes focused on him as if taking his measure,
missing nothing. 'Peace and fair weather, man of the the North.
You have news of my son?'

'I fear I have brought ill news indeed,' Kael answered as he
produced the brooch he so carefully carried on his long journey
from the Border Princes.

The blue eyes flickered momentarily but did not not dim. Turning
quickly, he gave a curt command to Emer in Eltharin before
continuing. 'Come, we have much to talk.'

Following his lead, Kael ascended a spiralling stair seemingly
grown from the sides of the ancient beech. He soon found himself
outside in a treehouse of prodigous size, so cunningly contructed
it was not visible from below. Entering through a side door, Kael
moved into a cosy, unadorned room. Two low chairs were present,
and Fionn was already seated. With a wave, Fionn indicated that
he should do the same.

Hands flat in front of him, Fionn spoke, 'My son Finnlas. Tell me
the manner of his passing.'

'It was a fortnight ago. Finnlas and myself were scouts in the
pay of Baron Grunewald, a minor noble with a castle in the
western region of the Border Princes. We had news that a large
horde of Orcs of the Broken Skull clan were moving across the
border towards the villages of Torteim and Blumendorf. The Baron
ordered twenty outriders, including myself and Finnlas, to escort
the villagers to the safety of Castle Grunewald.'

'We were on the roads for three days when we were attacked by the
vanguard of the Orc horde. We fought a rearguard action for
several hours losing half our number until we reached the ford of
Glass Water some ten miles from the castle. Finnlas fell as we
attempted to hold off one of several charges from the Orc horde.
I carried him back to the castle. We held out for five days
before the horde dissipated after several attempts to assault the
castle walls.'

Handing the brooch over, Kael kept silent as Fionn turned the
brooch over and over in his graceful fingers as if reliving past
memories.

'You have done my kin a noble deed, Kael Darkmane. You have my
thanks. Please remain at least awhile and sample our hospitality.
We will speak again.'

An Elf guard appeared as if by magic at his side. Taking it as a
dismissal, Kael rose and followed the guard outside to where a
feast was in progress.

***

Taking leave of his hosts, Kael retreated to the tree-house he
had been assigned. Emer was waiting for him. She was now clad in
a simple but elegant white gown that threatened to become sheer
where it caught the light. Her lustrous silvery-blonde hair fell
in long, silken tresses to the smooth, satiny skin of her bare
shoulders. She was, Kael admitted, absolutely stunning.

Feigning nonchalance, Kael made a slight bow, 'And what can a
clumsy human do for you, Emer?'

'You fascinate me, Kael Darkmane,' declared Emer, her violet eyes
sparkling with interest. 'I have seen the weapons and armour on
your horse and they have seen much use. A warrior who is familiar
with our ways and customs is rare indeed.'

'I learnt much of your people from Finnlas. I also learnt much of
life from him.'

A smile crept across her face as she added, 'I saw you share your
bread with the squirrel in the forest. I liked that.'

'You were watching me?'

'Yes, since before you entered the glade of the monolith. Do many
humans have green eyes like yours?'

He blinked as he noticed her staring at him intently. 'In Kislev,
my homeland far to the North, most of the people have blue or
grey eyes. I sometimes feel I am an oddity.'

'Your speech and mannerisms are similar to those of Brettonian
knights that I have observed. Are you a knight as well?'

Kael smiled, not suprised at her astute hearing. 'Knights can be
pompous, arrogant windbags sometimes. I try not to sound too
pompous most times as I would not be mistaken for one.'

Seeing that she would not be satisfied with his answer, he
relented. 'I was once a knight in my homeland of Kislev. The
Order of the White Wolves. But no longer. Now I travel and try to
meet people of note.'

'The Whites Wolves of Ulric,' Emer murmured. 'I have heard many
stories about their courage in battle. Mostly from the Brettonian
visitors. Tall, strong men in wolf furs who could slay a northern
gray wolf with bare hands.'

'An exaggeration, but such fanciful tales are useful against foes
who would otherwise not be fearful of the Order.'

She sat down on the bed before continuing, 'Tell me about the
things you have done and stories of the lands outside the
forest.'

'While I cannot claim to be a skilled teller of such tales, I
have seen much since I left my homeland of Kislev. My travels
have taken me to the Empire, Brettonia, the Worlds Edge
Mountains, the Badlands, Border Princes and now Athel Loren.
Where should I begin?'

'We have time. Tell me everything', she declared.

Kael sat back on a low chair and began recounting his varied
experiences of five years of wandering. The savage battles with
the goblin tribes in the wilds of the Border Princes... Riding
the endless steppes of the badlands... The bustling cities of the
Empire... The underground majesty of the Dwarven Halls of
Caraz-A-Karak... It took him awhile to reach his current
wherabouts and it was far into the night when he exhausted his
tales.

Much to his surprise, Emer was not bored in the slightest.
Instead, she clung at his descriptions of faraway places, as if
seeing the numerous adventures, people and lands through his
tales. She moved closer and Kael was unsure if Emer was aware of
his growing unease at her proximity. Kael was only too aware of
the smoothness of her ivory skin, her silken tresses of
silvery-gold hair and the distracting curves of her body. He
quickly dismissed the thoughts that were forming.

'Tell me why you left Kislev'.

'You have sharp wits, my lady. Yes, why would a knight of one of
the Old World's most esteemed and renowned Orders want to leave?'

Kael closed his eyes momentarily, recalling the memories. 'I did
not wish to leave but was bound to. I was much younger then, and
foolish. I was... attracted to a lady-in-waiting of the Princess
Katarin. Natasha was her name. Beautiful girl, about your height.
Could steal a man's heart with a smile. Anyway, the Order has
strict vows on celibacy. Those who break those vows are no longer
worthy to be knights. At least that was what my Knight Commander
told me.' Kael smiled weakly. Those memories still hurt,
sometimes.

'Your leaders cast you out for loving a another human?,' said
Emer, her violet eyes disbelieving. 'The way of civilized humans
is strange, Kael.'

'Perhaps it was fortunate that I had to leave my home. I have
visited places few of my countrymen will ever see. I have seen
and done things that I had not even dreamed about when I was a
knight.'

Emer moved across to the open window. As if in greeting, a gentle
breeze glided through her impossibly fine hair. 'Kael, how old do
you think I am?'

'Finnlas once asked me the same question. Difficult to guess, as
I know that your people have lifespans far in excess of mere
humans. You appear to be no more than 20. But you could also
be my great, great-grandfather's age were he alive today.'

This brought a smile from Emer as she moved back to the center of
the room, hugging herself with her slender arms. 'I have aged 120
years in your reckoning. But I have never set foot outside
the borders of Athel Loren. I have not seen the great cities of
Altdorf, Nuln, Middenheim. I have not seen snow glisten on
distant hilltops nor seen the sun set on the shores of the Great
Sea.'

Kael nodded. 'I understand now, what made Finnlas travel from
this fair place to the Border Princes.'

'I envy you, Kael. You have lived your life to its fullest, like
most humans. Despite the shorter lifespans, or perhaps because of
it, your people have achieved much more with their lives than
even the Elder races, ancient though we may be. While we ponder
the ways of the world, humans live it.'

Emer moved closer until Kael could feel her warm breath against
his cheek and smell the scent of wildflowers from her hair. 'We
live long but uneventful lives. Your visit has brought more
excitement to Loren than anything for a long while.'

A mischievious smile played over her mouth as she noticed his
discomfort. 'Do you find my appearance pleasing, Kael of the
Darkmane?'

Kael swallowed before speaking. 'I used to think Natasha was the
fairest creature in the land,... but not any more.'

'I am many times your age, but I have yet to love a human,' Emer
said, approaching him, her hands touching his face.

Unconsciously, Kael found his fingers playing with the long
lustrous strands of her silken hair as Emer leaned towards him,
her body warm beneath the sheer gown. 'I have little knowledge of
human customs in acts of love. But I wish you to show me what you
shared with Natasha.'

Moving her body against him, Emer reached out behind her. The
gown fell free as her delicate fingers undid a hidden clasp. Very
gently, Kael pressed his mouth over hers, inhaling her sweet
breath as he explored her body. Emer began to moan softly as he
moved to kiss her soft throat and his hands found her firm,
perfect breasts. The pert nipples erected satisfyingly to his
caresses. Emer gasped, thrusting her chest fowards to accomodate
him as his mouth clamped around first one, then the other nipple,
nibbling gently. Kael moved one hand lower, over her flat, smooth
belly until his fingers found the silken hairs. He explored
slowly, with Emer moaning and nibbling at his neck, parting the
soft lips of her labia before venturing first one, then two
fingers inside the velvety softness. His fingers came away wet
with her juices.

'Take me now,' she panted urgently as she pulled him hard against
her body.

Kael nudged himself around, nosing at the entrance opened to him,
coating himself with her abundant juices. He teased her until
with a fierce lunge, she impaled herself on him, crying out in
Elvish at the friction of his entry. Locking her sleek legs
around his waist, Emer rode him, moaning incoherently at the
waves of pleasure coursing through her body. The wet, wonderful
frictioning of the member inside her soon drove her to a fierce
orgasm causing her to cry out in her passion. Her slender legs
trembling from the after-effects, she clung on to Kael as he
continued to move against her. Emer orgasmed twice more, her body
shaking uncontrollably, before he laid her down on the bed, their
bodies covered with a sheen of sweat from the exertions.

Turning her over onto her stomach, Kael moved behind her. His
still-hard member glistened with her juices and twitched with his
excitement as he prepared to take her from behind. This position
was unfamiliar to Emer, which aroused her immensely. Reaching
back, she guided his member until it pointed as a spear into her
sex. Kael admired the beautiful curves of her buttocks for
several long seconds before thrusting his hips forward. She
moaned as his member lodged inside her and began to part the
slick walls of her vagina. By this time, rivulets of moisture
from her engorged sex had trickled down her sleek legs in shiny
trails. Kael moved slowly, enjoying the feel of the hot wetness,
but Emer was growing impatient. Moaning in her passion, Emer
began to thrust her buttocks back against his strokes, trying to
get him deeper inside her. She screamed in pleasure as she felt
him lunge forward, his hard length parting her vaginal muscles
deliciously as he hilted himself against her.

As he sawed his member in and out of her wonderfully tight
tunnel, Kael freed one hand to touch her firm breasts which
bounced so erotically with each thrust inside her. Moaning and
crying out from the double stimulation, Emer clawed at the
bedspread beneath her, her knuckles white from the effort. This
time when she came, the passion totally overwhelmed her senses.
With long-drawn scream, Emer flung her head back violently, sweat
flying from her matted hair as she felt her vaginal muscles
clench and relax in powerful spasms. The feel of her inner
muscles milking him was more than his control could handle and
Kael felt his member pulse powerfully as he climaxed into her.
Her body continued to tremble as he collapsed on top of her prone
form, feeling the sweat against the satiny skin of her back.
Sated, they drifted off into a deep dreamless sleep in each
other's arms.

***

Kael was awake before the soft knock sounded. Years of living
with danger a mere instant away had honed his survival instincts
well. Beside him, Emer stirred as he sat up, senses alert. The
concerned face of a tall Elf guard peeked into the dimly lit
room. If the guard was surprised at Emer's presence, he hid it
well.

'Dress quickly. A war-party of Beastmen has been seen moving
towards us.'

Dragging on his boots, Kael joined Emer and the rest of the Elves
beneath the tree-house. In the darkened gloom, he saw the faint
glint of weapons being drawn and readied. Kael saw deadly
seriousness in the faces of the assembled guards. A long blade
was passed to him. It was an Elven-made weapon of outstanding
balance, light but near-unbreakable. None of the Elves spoke.

The tall silver-haired Magrig who appeared to be the leader of
the troupe whispered something to Emer who nodded, slinging her
bow over her shoulder. The Elves started moving into the forest,
melting away swiftly and silently into the shadows. Taking his
arm, Emer led Kael as they followed the others. Not having the
ability to see in the dark, Kael surpressed a curse as a low
branch dug into his scalp, trying to keep up with the furious
pace of the Elves.

Suddenly, they halted at the edges of a clearing, ringed by dense
undergrowth. The other Elves lay nearby, well hidden. Straining
his ears, Kael could make out distant voices in the a harsh
discordant tongue of the Beastmen. Occasionaly, one of the Elves
would slip away to peek into the clearing. Emer moved forward to
consult with Magrig.

Kael edged forward until he was looking into the clearing from
behind a large oak tree. There were at least a dozen of them.
Well armoured as well, with most having vests of chainmail. A few
wore round steel helmets as well. Most bore cruel chopping swords
of crude manufacture. Several had spears tipped with jagged heads
of beaten iron.

Emer appeared beside him and whispered, 'They bear the device of
an axe dripping blood. Magrig says a shaman is among them as
well'

Still looking at the Beastmen, Kael nodded. 'Blood Axe tribe. A
clan from the western Badlands. I have fought their like before
in the Border Princes...'

Kael was cut short when another Beastman stepped into view, clad
in rough animal furs and bearing many amulets. Scars cris-crossed
its weathered face. In the flickering light of the torches, a
tatoo of a flaming eye was visible on the creature's bald head. A
crooked staff topped with an eerily-glowing green gemstone rested
in its scrawny arms. Kael was left in no doubt that the new
arrival was the shaman. Only the shamans of the beastmen bore
such a tatoo on their foreheads.

Suddenly the gemstone on the shaman's staff flared, outshining
the flickering torches. The shaman, as if sensing danger, whirled
around. With a guttural curse, the shaman hurled a spell directy
at the hidden Elves. Magical fire erupted on impact as the spell
struck. Two of the Elf guards were caught by the expanding
flames. One was thrown against a tree, his face badly burnt. The
other who was closer to the flames ran screaming into the
clearing, his hair and clothes alight. A beastman sword cut him
down.

The suddeness of the attack over, the remaining Elves unleashed a
hail of arrows at their foes. Several fell, clutching the green
shafts that sprouted, as if by magic, from their bodies. Snarling
savagely, the remaining Beastmen charged out of the clearing,
waving their weapons and eager to come to grips with their hidden
opponents. Casting aside their now useless bows, the Elves drew
their swords to meet their foes. The forest now rang with
warcries and clashing steel as a furious close quarter battle
began. For the moment, Elf and Beastman were united in their
desire to kill each other.

Pointing directly at where Kael stood, the shaman unleashed
another ball of fire. Pushing Emer to the ground, Kael covered
her with his body as the spell struck an obstructing tree. Nearby
bushes flared into ashes as he felt the waves of heat erupt from
the impact. A charging beastmen bearing a huge axe followed the
direction of the spell, bellowing loudly. Rolling to her feet
smoothly, Emer launched an arrow with practiced skill. The arrow
took the Beastman in the chest, the impact of the shaft nearly
lifting the burly creature off its feet. Growling in pain and
winded by the arrows, the Beastman charged in a frenzy, closing
the distance between them and waving its axe wildly.

Stepping in front of Emer, Kael braced to meet the Beastman's
attack, sword held loosely. The wounds had slowed the creature,
and Kael deftly side-stepped the first wild swing of the huge
axe. Batting aside the clumsy swing with his forearm, Kael
rounded the wounded creature, grabbing at the massively jawed
head. A sharp twist and he had the satisfaction of hearing bones
snap in the thick neck. Dropping the still-twitching body, Kael
grabbed the fallen axe in his free hand and sprinted towards the
figures struggling in the gloom.

His sword moving with lethal grace, Magrig the Elf leader had
already slain two Beastmen when a spear impaled his left thigh.
With a cry, he sliced at his attacker, sending a bestial head
rolling even as his wounded limb failed him. Crumpling to the
ground, he was desperately trying to fend off two other Beastmen
when Kael reached him. Unaware of his presence, the Beastmen had
their backs to Kael when he attacked. A sweep of the axe took the
head off the nearest foe. A crushing boot to the back dropped the
other to his knees as Kael kicked out savagely. Magrig's sword
impaled the Beastman as it struggled to stand.

Turning at a sound, Kael barely avoided having his right eye
gouged out as a jagged sword flashed past his face, drawing
blood. Another Beastman had joined the battle. Parrying the sword
with his axe, Kael swept his own sword low, cutting through the
creature's leg at the knee. As the Beastman fell howling, Kael
broke its neck with the butt of the axe.

To his left, Kael saw an Elf fall, mortally wounded. His slayer,
a huge Beastman champion with curling horns, continued to hack
savagely at the dying Elf. In a rage, Kael leaped over the
sprawled corpses and charged the creature. Turning at the sound,
the Beastman growled and swung around to face him.

With a shower of sparks, axe and sword met as the Beastman
parried Kael's first stroke. Flipping the axe blades over
expertly, Kael trapped the sword blade between the blade and
handle of his axe. A quick twist broke the weapon and Kael buried
the elven blade into the beastman's chest. Kicking the creature
away from his sword, Kael searched the shadows for more foes only
to find the battle ended.

Looking around, Kael counted three wounded and two dead among the
Elves. All the Beastmen lay dead, including the shaman who had
received at least six of the green shafted arrows from Emer's
bow. The creature had first attempted to shield itself with
magic. Unfortunately, his strength had failed before Emer had
exhausted her quiver of arrows.

Kneeling beside Magrig, Kael saw that the spear had penetrated
the fleshy part of the Elf warrior's left thigh. Though the pain
showed in the corners of his blue eyes, no sound came from the
Elf. Lips clenched with effort, Magrig jerked spear shaft
downward, impaling his leg further until the spear head was clear
of the wound.

Taking a small knife from one of the scouts, Kael worked the
spear head loose with the patience of much battlefield
experience. His hands were slick with the Elf leader's blood
before the iron spear head could be separated from the shaft.
With both hands on the wooden shaft Kael took a deep breath and
yanked it clear. Blood gushed from the wound. Immediately, Emer
and another Elf scout bound two pads of soft cloth over the
wound.

***

Kael kept his gaze level as Emer smeared a stinging poultice on
the cut on his cheek just below his left eye. Patting the gash
affectionately, she checked him over for other injuries.

'Where else are you hurt?', she asked.

'Nowhere else, I'm fine,' he said.

'Your skills are impressive. A little crude, mayhaps, but
impressive never the less,' Emer commented.

Kael effected a slight bow. 'The White Wolves are not really into
classical swordplay. My instructors always insisted that war is
work, not art.'

'Ruthlessly functional, in other words,' Emer grinned.

Kael dismissed the warlike talk with a shake of his head as Emer
continued to fuss over him, cleaning the dark stains that covered
his hands and face with scented oils. She nuzzled his cheek as
she worked, rubbing her breasts against him. Her silvery hair
brushed against his face as she bent over him. Kael could see
that the excitement of the battle had triggered more than just
her nursing instincts.

'Lie back', she said, her eyes sparkling.

Pushing him flat on the bed, Emer began to undress him, dragging
the soiled garments off and tossing them aside. Kael watched
entranced as she disrobed as well, her body sleek and taut,
flushed from the night's adventure. Her nipples stood out in firm
arousal as she straddled him, her hands busy exploring every
muscle on him. She spread the scented oil over his chest and his
stomach, kneading skillfully before moving lower.

'Mmmmm... so strong...,' she murmured. Her small fist grasped his
deflated member which promptly began to react to her
ministrations. '... so big!' she declared as her skilled hands
brought his phallus to full alert.

Growling, Kael grabbed her slender shoulders as his mouth found
the deliciously swaying orbs of her breasts. Emer moaned
erotically as his tongue rasped over her erect nipples, causing
sparks of pleasure to spread from her breasts. She freed one
hand, gliding over the silky smoothness of her stomach before
nestling between her sleek legs. With a cry, Emer ploughed her
delicate fingers into her spread-open vagina, working
frantically. Kael felt his member harden like never before as he
watched her silvery public hair began to glisten with her juices
as she took herself.

Before she attained her orgasm, she stopped, panting from her
efforts. Glancing at his manhood sticking up stiff as a flagpole,
she smiled wickedly. Balancing herself on her arms she moved atop
him, positioning her engorged sex above his phallus. Emer teased
him for several long seconds, moving him just inside her lips,
coating the tip of his member with her juices. Kael reached up,
pushing her breasts together, then licking down the cleavage
before moving to the hardened nipples.

With a choking cry, she impaled herself on him, letting her full
weight drive the long, hard length into her moist tunnel. Her
body trembled from the pleasure, steadily becoming unbearable as
she rode him like a horse.  Her abundant juices flowed freely as
she mashed her sex against him, drenching his hips and staining
the bedspread beneath. Emer flailed her head around, her hair
flying wildly as the tension built up in her taut body. Suddenly
she arched her back, crying out in rapture as her orgasm overtook
her. Kael caught her limp body as she collapsed on him, panting
in the aftermath of her climax.

***

Leading his horse back to the clearing on the western fringe of
Athel Loren, Kael glanced over at the small troop that
accompanied him. Fionn and his folk. Many of the Glade Guards
that had fought alongside Kael were present as well. Magrig, his
leg bound but unwilling to be made an invalid, had insisted on
following the party.

'I am sad to be leaving the this ancient forest. For a time, the
worries of the outside world did not burden me,' he said as Fionn
walked up alongside.

'Nonsense, friend Kael. Parting with friends is a sadness. A
place is just a place. You are welcome to return at any time of
your choosing. Loren will ever be here. But here...', Fionn said
as he produced a brooch adorned with a sparkling green gemstone
from the folds of his robe. 'It is an old custom among us, that
true Elf-friends should bear some token of Loren. A gift between
friends.'

With some amusement, Fionn watched Kael as he accepted the gift,
a look of wonder on his face. 'A watchstone, that. Made by my
brother Lyndar the Smith. It has some small power to shield its
bearer against hostile magic. A useful possession for the roads
you choose to travel.'

Grasping hands with Magrig in a warrior's grip. Kael could see
unspoken understanding in the deep blue eyes. A rare
understanding that could only come to warriors who had risked
death together and survived. 'Be fortunate in life, man of the
North,' the Elf said as their hands parted.

Beside him, Emer reined her horse impatiently, eager to begin her
first travels outside the safety of the forest. Her favourite bow
was slung across her back. Two quivers of yard-long arrows hung
on the saddle of her grey elf-horse. Despite his many stories of
the crudeness and dangers of the world, Emer had chosen to leave
Loren with him, to the horror, he was sure, of many of her kin.

Looking at her impossibly fine features, Kael wondered what Tzar
Bokha and the clergy of Ulric would have said had he brought his
Elven lover back to the court of Kislev. The thought put a smile
on his face as his horse began to trot on the day-long journey to
Quenelles in Brettonia.

THE END