Legends of Belariath

Ehlanna

A Lost Grove

Life has an annoying habit of becoming complicated at the drop of a hat. Since I am not in the habit of wearing hats, life opened the batting with a pair of shorts. Admittedly the shorts were not mine but then even life has to compromise sometimes.

I had just left the dreaming spires of Unigo, the great seat of arcane knowledge and teaching, having visited to purchase the loan of a variety of spell books and, amongst others, a potion of agility increase. The potion was to be a reward for a bounty I was placing on the heads of a group of bandits headed by a Troll shaman. This group had been attacking merchant caravans in the vicinity and had taken some young ladies captive, but the Troll was now implicated in the molesting of the little cat girl Pink and I would be damned if I would let that pass without dire retribution.

Pushing the ‘complimentary’ wheelbarrow that Rincewind had let me borrow for a deposit of a mere 50 Mehrials, laden with spell books and potions, I wondered if this was in some bizarre way a subtle revenge by the librarian for all the teasing I had put him through in the past. Mentally shrugging, I neared my Cloudwing, my faithful Elven steed, preparing to cast a Floating Disc spell, as I had no intention of actually pushing the wretched barrow the 20 miles back to the Inn. I was just calling up the spell matrix in my mind when I was suddenly buried under a giggling bundle of red-haired frolicking fun. Fortunately for Lina, I recognized her from the Inn so, less then happy as I was, I decided not to do anything too dramatic to her. Unfortunately for her my mood was not one that appreciated the interruption – I just wanted to get back to the Inn, post the bounty on the Inns message board and lose myself briefly in the acquisition of the new spells. A suitable punishment passed through my mind as I recalled that she was a bit on the shy side. Unwrapping her stroking hands from my body I yanked her shorts down, noticing in passing that she seemed to be a natural red-head, and with a quick gesture incinerated them with a tightly controlled Burning Fingers spell.

“Enjoy your walk back little one,” I called back to her stunned form. Loading the barrow onto a hastily cast Floating Disc I mounted my horse and started back to the Inn. A glance over my shoulder made me smile despite my dark mood. Lina stood, trembling with embarrassment, alternately shaking her fists at me then dropping them to cover her exposed tuft of red pubic hair and muttering vague, stammering threats of revenge. As I left the cute half-naked girl behind her cries of indignation were drowned out by the slightly louder inner voice of my conscience. I sighed and made a promise to myself to make her a new pair of shorts when I had the time.

Thus, with a slightly lighter heart, I finally arrived at the Inn. After stabling Cloudwing, I pushed the barrow through the Inn, steadfastly ignoring the curious glances. Let them look, I thought to myself, when Lina gets back they will really have something to stare at. I paused at the base of the stairs just long enough to pin up my bounty notice, then bumped the barrow up the stairs carefully, but noisily. Once ensconced in the safety of my room I pulled a book at random from the barrow and started reading. It was basic stuff really, just the bare bones of the spell formula. As I digested the information my mind filled in all the blanks that were unwritten, the strictures of the spell, how certain parts could be extended or contracted to prolong or shorten the casting time. I tried to wrestle my mind into submission, just wishing to learn the basic spell, not all of its variations, its brothers and sisters, its cousins three times removed: I had had enough magical theory tipped into me during my formative years. Despite my best endeavors my subconscious poked it’s metaphorical tongue out at me and continued dissecting the spell matrix as I absorbed it from the words and diagrams in the tome.

Time skipped ever onwards and, at last, I had completed reading the spell book. My brain was busy whirling with random thoughts about the new spell, so I decided to relax with something a bit mind numbing. What to do? I could go out and patrol the forest and maybe look for signs of the Troll and his band of murderous thugs, but no, that would need me to be totally focused … what then? I idly considered going back down to the bar and having rather too much to drink. That, somehow, didn’t appeal. My thoughts returned to the sight of Lina’s tuft of red pubic hair. A smile slowly formed on my lips … that was it … I could make her the shorts as I had promised myself I would do. It would be good to let my hands fall back into old ways and let my mind wander back to sitting with my mother as she worked making clothes for me or my father. I pulled open my pack of clothes and dug through them, hoping that Elowyn had left me the bright red satin dress that I’d never worn; a gift from a hopeful and silly human admirer, ages back. Sure enough, it was there, buried deep in the pile of random garments – luckily red didn’t seem to be Elowyn’s color. I pulled the dress out and smoothed it out and looked it over: surely I could use this to make the shorts with; there was certainly enough material, all I had to do was cut out the shapes required and sew them together

Simpler thought than done. Some hours later I was left with shreds of a dress and what I hoped were the necessary bits to form a pair of shorts of the right size. I closed my eyes again and mentally reviewed what I knew of Lina’s lithe form … smiling fondly as I recalled her pert little bottom and her longs legs leading up to the juncture of her thighs, where nestled amidst her bright red thatch was … I shook my head, forcing myself to consider the image dispassionately, trying to overlay it with the pieces of material in front of me. To my amazement they seemed to match; perhaps the lessons learnt at my mother’s knee all those years ago were not in vain. After opening my eyes I started fitting the pieces together, first with a running tack, just to make sure the general shape was correct, then with a proper tight stitch. Hours passed as I sewed patiently, smiling inwardly as the back of my mind curled up in disgust and went to blissful sleep at the thought of observing more monotony.

When I had finished I held the shorts up and imagined Lina filling them, the sleek satin molding to her and I realized something wasn’t quite right – something was missing. I stared at the shorts as if I expected them to reveal what was wrong, and in a way they did: they were too plain, they needed an extra touch – but what? I once more closed my eyes and summoned Lina to my mind’s eye. As I gazed inwards at her, the idea leapt, unbidden, into my thoughts … ‘cat’. She was a graceful and sleek as a feline. Chuckling quietly, I threaded some gold silk thread onto a needle and started embroidering the outline of a crouching tiger on each hip. I looked at the newly adorned shorts and nodded, yes, this was just right.

Well, enough excitement for the time being – the torches were beginning to gutter, and the night was so well advanced I was sure that I would be able to see the pink tinge of the false dawn were I to look out my window. I undressed and fell into bed, suddenly weary. As I drifted off to sleep another thought crossed my mind – why not open a clothing shop? It seemed I had not forgotten the skills that my mother had taught, and, on consideration, the area could do with one judging by what most people were wearing.

On waking the thought had not so much faded as been tinged with the starkness of reality. Just how was I going to run a clothes shop? Certainly I could weave. Sewing was almost second nature to me. But design? I had in the past made my own clothes, but they were for me … I knew what I wanted, would others feel the same? I shrugged off the improbable idea and performed my ablutions before dressing and heading out into the forest, hoping to find fresh traces of the Troll or his gang. I fed myself from berries and drank from streams to refresh my thirst as I wandered through the early afternoon. By nightfall, all I had to show for my pains was the memory of a goblin poacher. I was still chuckling about the damp stain that formed on the front of his trousers when I confronted him as I entered the Inn. At least he wouldn’t be stalking the creatures of the forest any more – at least not if he knew what was good for him.

Life wasn’t finished with me just yet. Just as I had dealt with the shorts, it tossed another metaphorical hat into the ring. I had just sat down when the barbarian woman, K2, approached me. Before I could greet her, she was asking if I could make her slave something to wear. Closing my eyes briefly I aimed a mental arrow at the joker who seemed to pulling the strings. Since I like K2 I, of course agreed, and requested the nature of the apparel she had in mind and to see the slave in question. Half expecting some looming ponderous, hugely well endowed specimen of manhood I was quite taken aback when she introduced me to Garnet. I switched mental gears from tight leather to lace and silk as I looked at the sexy human girl in front of me. What K2 wanted was a form of breech cloth, two strips of lace, front and back, falling to Garnet’s knees, with a cut-out on the rear section to display her clan tattoo that was sexily inscribed just above the girls buttocks.

Garnet seemed to be still under K2’s tuition as she hesitated briefly before disrobing at the command of her mistress. I stood and wandered round the girl, forming an idea of her size as K2 speculated out loud, to Garnet’s obvious embarrassment, whether or not she should shave her pubic hair off or not. To gain a better idea of Garnet’s measurements, and currently lacking a tape measure, I started using my hands to form an estimate. Garnet shivered as my hands slowly wandered around her hips, waist, and finally her breasts. Her nipples were beginning to stiffen, and her eyes were closed as I started to measure her inside leg. I could her soft panting as my hands climbed up her lissome legs. By now K2 had almost firmly decided she wanted Garnet’s sex to be denuded of hair, and was now asking her to say thank you to me for making her the breech cloth. As my fingers slid over her upper thigh Garnet parted her legs and moaned softly, and I knew why K2 had taken this sexy young thing as a slave. My fingers arrived at the juncture of her thighs and I could already smell the aroma of her arousal, and see her pussy lips glinting with moisture.

I looked up at K2 and asked permission, which she granted with a laughing nod of her head. My aim in life, when allowed and not beset my requests for clothing, is to preserve the forests in all their beauty, protect the weak, and bring as much pleasure into people’s lives as I may. My beloved Mara had taught me one beautiful way of doing this, so without further ado I bent down and softly kissed Garnet between the legs, enjoying her sudden sharp intake of breath. I let my tongue play over her labia, licking up and down her slit as my fingers went to fondle and caress her firm buttocks. Mara had taught me well those short years back, but I had learnt more since, and I put those skills to work as I teased Garnet with my lips and tongue. Soon she was panting and gasping at the attention I was giving her and her sex was slowly leaking its juices in a warm dribble down her thighs. Taking one hand from Garnet’s pert bottom I ran my fingers through her dark thatch of curly pubic hair and teased her clit. Judging by the quivering of her legs and her moans, not to mention the obvious dampness of her sex she was more than ready to receive my tongue.

Rubbing her clit lightly with a fingertip I poked my tongue past her puffy sex lips and swirled it around inside her damp warm cave, smiling inwardly as Garnet pushed her hips forward with a low growl of pleasure. I flicked my tongue over her moist, silky inner walls and gently pinched her clit, bringing more pants and moans from her. Garnet’s hips pushed forward, grinding her pussy against my mouth, burbling incoherently as I tongue-fucked her sweet cunt for all I was worth. I sucked and lapped, probed deep with in her sex with my wriggling tongue, fingers never ceasing their teasing and tormenting of her clit and was soon rewarded with a cascade of nectar as she climaxed on my tongue. Swallowing greedily my tongue searched out all traces of the lovely fluid, feeling the warmth trickling down my chin. If I did open a clothes shop, could I use this as a form of payment? I chuckled into the moaning girls pussy at the thought and was paid back by her pussy muscles spasming around my tongue.

With a final lick and suck, I stood up and smiled at K2, who was grinning broadly at her new slave. “Consider payment to have been made,” I said to her, “I will make the breech cloth as soon as I can.” Cleaning my chin I wandered back to my seat, suddenly no longer wanting a drink and K2 started teaching Garnet the rudiments of appropriate posture for one of her station. I have to say, if I saw anyone looking like Garnet, sitting in a pose like that I would find it very hard to keep my fingers off of her.

The lure of my spell books came back full force, and so, with some reluctance I headed back up to my room to do some more studying. For once the back of my mind was still as I read, enabling me to consider how to make the breech cloth for Garnet. Long before I had finished the tome I had finalized the rather simple design, even down to what item of my clothing I was going to destroy to make it. I had a lace blouse lurking somewhere, again assuming Elowyn, that light-fingered Dryad had left me it, that would suffice. Deciding to call it a day, and wishing to actually go to sleep before the crack of dawn I retired to bed, hoping to be fully asleep before the dawn chorus became too strident.

I awoke just before mid-day, well rested and feeling contented. My plans for the day were pretty much as usual – wash, dress, then go into the forests to see if I could find any traces of the Troll, or failing that, double check that the weak-bladdered Goblin hadn’t returned. A half hour later I was patrolling the forest, but found nothing worthy of note. This was beginning to get me very annoyed. How could a Sylvan Elf Ranger not manage to find traces of a Troll in the forest for the god’s sake?

I returned to the Inn just past dusk and ordered a meal and drink. As I was waiting for the food to be served a Dark Elf named Shaka approached me. As a Dark, he made a good coat-rack. Maybe two souls had been mixed, and somewhere there was a High or Sylvan Elf with a vicious temperament, and a liking for dim dark places. Despite his heritage I held no animosity towards him, his race, yes, but him personally no. In fact, not long ago, I had done some weapons training with him. As it turned out he needed the practice. I don’t whether it was my Ranger training, or the experience garnered over the past seven decades, but not to put too fine a point on it, I wiped the floor with him. Since then we had struck up a sort of friendship. I looked up as Shaka stood near my table, prepared to ask him to wait until after I had eaten for further training when he said something that stunned me. Somewhere, someone with their grubby fingers on the strings was laughing insanely as life threw the third existential hat into my lap. What was so bizarre about what he said? He told me he was thinking about opening a clothes shop, and wanted me for his partner.

I sat, mouth agape, resembling nothing more than a fish out of water, complete with the bulging eyes. When my senses returned and I could once more string two syllables together I agreed readily after he shown me his notebook, which was full of designs for clothing, telling him that I had been considering doing the very self same thing. We looked at each other like the finalists of a village idiot competition, finally agreeing that it must be fated to be. If the gods, or whomever, were so set on me becoming a seamstress who was I to argue? All we needed now was suitable premises. And stock.

As luck would have it, Ellena, the High Elf who runs the pawnshop had just started branching out into real estate, and she was sitting not three tables away. Shaka and I had soon agreed to go and see a town house that had been vacant for quite some time. Accompanying Ellena to the house, we were a bit dismayed by its state. It looked a bit run down and the garden had gone to ruin, plus the main front window had been smashed. Inside, despite the blood smeared over the front room, it was in not a bad state. Given enough time and a lot of cleaning it would be most acceptable. Ellena admitted that the house was reputed to be haunted by the ghost of the previous owner and pointed out that the dried blood was his and that the window had been smashed in by a group of rampaging Goblins who had killed the previous occupant. Armed with this knowledge we managed to bargain a few hundred Mehrial off the price and had managed to negotiate our way into ownership.

Feeling a bit stunned at the rapid progress Shaka and I started doing some basic tidying up as Ellena returned to her office to get the required paperwork sorted out. In a few hours I had loaded most of the debris onto a Floating Disc and when I wandered through the front door to guide it across the street to tip it into an alleyway opposite I saw Shaka hacking and slashing at the undergrowth with his dagger. Oh well, I guess the mixed up soul wasn’t that of a Sylvan Elf then.

We locked the house up and wandered back to the Inn in a bit of a daze. From first mention of the thought about the possibility of opening a shop not five hours ago, we were now the owners of a shop with living quarters above it. We even had a name: ‘The Naked Bird’. Earlier that night Shaka had bought a really ugly statuette of a bird from Melody, and this became our official mascot, and inspired the naming of the store.

I went to bed with my mind in a whirl. For one who is used to the sedate passage of time, with events unfolding at leisure, that last day had been a maelstrom of happenings. I sank into a deep sleep, mentally and physically exhausted.

Waking early, I decided that instead of patrolling the forest and just increasing my frustration I would head over to my new house and start the cleaning. After a quick wash I headed down to the bar area of the Inn to get some breakfast to help fuel me for the day ahead. The Inn was deserted except for little Naiya, a cute Dryad who is enslaved to Elthorion, another Dark Elf who I don’t feel like killing as soon as I see him. She was sipping a mug of coffee and as I considered what to eat I had a thought. Naiya looked as if she had much on her mind, so I asked her if she wanted to earn some extra money by helping me clean the shop. She looked grateful, both for the offer of money, and also for the chance of doing something to take her mind of what was bothering her. After a quick bite to eat we set off to the shop. Naiya immediately noticed the frazzled garden and I apologized to her, promising that I would plant some trees. We entered the shop and set about looking for cleaning items, eventually finding a pair of mop and buckets hiding in a cupboard.

I was about to hand her one mop and bucket when she sat down cross-legged in the middle of the room and started playing a flute. This wasn’t exactly what I’d hired her for – music whilst you work is one thing … I was about to enquire, politely, just what she thought she was doing, when little cyclones popped up all over the floor. I watched as the eddies of air whizzed around, collecting up dust and the bits of debris that I’d missed last night. Sudden realization dawned on me – she was using the music as a focus for a series of Telekinesis spells. Grinning at her, I grabbed a mop and started dancing around the room, washing and cleaning, using Clean spells on the stubborn stains. In what seemed like a matter of minutes the floor, and most especially the blood-stain, were clean. Naiya looked up, face ashen at the expenditure of effort and I immediately felt guilty about my initial thoughts. I led her into the kitchen and after casting Clean at a pair of dust laden glasses, pumped the water until it ran clean. After filling the glasses I cat Clean on them again, just to be on the safe side and passed one over to her. She drank gratefully, the color coming back into her cheeks as her natural Dryad stamina renewed itself.

A memory suddenly surfaced and I found myself being looked at strangely by Naiya as I grinned foolishly. “Just remembering another flautist little one, and a matter of a wager.” Naiya looked at me with some bafflement, her expression questioning. “Oh, Minako claimed she could hold a note for ten minutes, so I bet her she couldn’t.” The fond memory swam through my mind of the lovely Nymph Minako struggling to maintain her breath control as I ravished her pussy with my tongue. With a grin I asked Naiya if she’d like to take the same bet. After a few moments thought she asked what the wager would be, since she really didn’t have any use for money. “Well, how about I make you a skirt, free of charge?” Naiya nodded appreciatively, “that would be nice, but I can’t hold a note that long … three minutes maybe … and what if I lose?” I assured her it was a one-sided bet, with no penalty for her losing. She thought for a few seconds, then nodded, “alright, but I need to get my energy back, how about after we finish cleaning?” I agreed happily, so we set about with clothes, scrubbing the walls, little Naiya having a problem leaving a clean lower half, but still mucky upper half. I cast a Floating Disc for her to stand on so she could reach up to the ceiling and sent it shuffling slowly around the walls, admiring her legs as they disappeared under her brief tunic. Grabbing one of the mops I started on the ceiling itself, then wanting to end the cleaning as soon as possible so I could get my hands, and tongue on her, I telekinesed the other mop to join in. After I had finished the ceiling I helped her clean the final wall. We smiled at one another at a job well done. “Now, the bet little one, go get your flute.”

Naiya pulled out her flute and ran a few scales, warming up, then nodded to indicate her readiness. Taking a long, deep breath, she started blowing what sounded like an A below middle C. I watched for a few seconds then stepped behind her and reached round her to cup her breasts. The note quavered as my fingers slowly fondled her firm tits, but rapidly settled down as she regained her control. I nuzzled the back of her neck as my fingers caressed her, circling the hardening nubs of her nipples through her tunic. The note slid up an octave as I gently pinched her nipples. Considering my next move to put her off her stride I continued squeezing and stroking her breasts, lips kissing the back of her neck. I felt her heart begin to beat faster as my fingers slide over her left breast, and then I decided that my next attack would be on her legs and bottom.

I slid my hand down her back to cup her left ass cheek as I walked round in front of her, smiling into her wide open, shocked eyes. I knelt in front of her and kissed my way up her legs, hands sliding under her tunic to run over the firm, warm flesh of her bottom. The flute squeaked horribly as Naiya suddenly over blew, but it did not stop, even as my lips nuzzled her sex. Running a finger up her inner thigh I gently blew across her pussy lips and heard the note career out of control, sliding up and down the scale as she struggled to control her breathing. I was sure time was running out so I half-stood and ran a finger over her moistening pussy and looked at the hard bumps in the front of her tunic, grinning as I reached out to capture her left nipple and tweak and tug it.

By now the note was getting quite thready and was wavering badly as Naiya came to the end of her lung capacity. Determined to give it one last try and rubbed my finger up her damp slit and kept going until it was nudging her clit. Naiya’s nipples had become engorged with blood and were very prominent, jutting proudly from her breasts, so I just had to suck on one. Moving my head forward I enveloped the hard nub with my lips, through her tunic, and sucked hard, pulling my head back to extend the nipple as far as I could. Whether it was that, or my finger vibrating on her clit, or maybe just the lack of air in her lungs, the note gave a final flutter and died.

She dropped the flute and without comment ran her hands over my breasts and my own hard nipples. We were soon entwined, writhing on the floor, hands probing each other as we pulled clothes off one another, lips and tongues seeking spots both hard, soft, and wet. What seemed like blissful hours passed in a reverie of sensual delight as we explored each other’s naked bodies in a quivering heap of groaning, panting, and writhing arousal. I whimpered in frustration as I felt her hands leave my body, then gasped and moaned in delight as she took her long hair in her hands and stroked it over me. By body arched in pleasure as the teasing strands ran all over me. I couldn’t believe the feelings running through me from something so simple as her hair.

I squirmed and moaned as the tips of her locks caressed my breasts and nipples in a cool cascade of arousal. I just lay back, jelly in the hands of this Dryad, wondering what she would do next. The answer soon came as I felt her lips nuzzling their wicked way against my navel, then to my delight they headed downwards. Downwards through my silvery thatch of my pubic hairs, then I heard her softly say, “spread a little for me, please?” My legs parted, almost without volition, exposing my wet sex to her eyes. I felt her fingers trail over my mons, curling through my pubes. “Oh yesssss, do it, please”, I hissed. Her soft breath blew over my parted sex lips, seeming to reach every nerve ending I had. My body was trembling in mounting arousal, unable to fathom quite how hot it was feeling without being on the brink of climax. A slow warm lick of her tongue up my wet slit that ended up with a languid caress of my clit did nothing to help me regain any semblance of control. My legs parted wider, offering myself to her, demanding she invade my dripping sex.

All I received, however, was another long warm gust of air that curled and caressed my sex and swept in a loving vortex between my labia to probe and tease my aching pussy. I heard her say something about breath control and it was all I could do to pant out a tremulous acknowledgement. All good things must come to an end, and after a few minutes her lungs had emptied, leaving me sprawled on the floor with my bottom resting in a slowly growing path of dampness. As we took a second out to regain out breath I wondered what was to be next. The answer came as her tongue plunged deep into my soaking pussy and her nose bumped into my clit. My hips bucked and my moans echoed around the room. Her tongue slid around my inner walls then slipped free as she lifted her head and asked, “ready for the second stanza, Ma’am?”

“Gods, are you some form of devil Naiya?”

Naiya blinked and a hurt expression crossed her pretty face, “devil? Wh-why would you say that Ma'am?"

I sat and gently pulled her to me, fingers running over her nipples, “because you are not what could be called an angel.”

She rested her head against my chest and quietly spoke, "I am neither angel or devil, Ma'am … just Naiya … the dryad without her tree … and bardic slave."

I pushed her away and gazed up at her, frowning at the look of consternation on her face. I asked what was wrong and she explained what was troubling her. I sat stunned as she said she could no longer find her grove, or even her tree. I hugged and caressed her, mumbling soft words of comfort as I thought of possible reasons on how a Dryad could lose her grove, but none were forthcoming. As I comforted her I tried to engage her in different topics of conversation, from the bet, which we adjudged she had won, to what color skirt she would like. I was amazed to feel her start to rub her hand between my legs and lick at my nipples. “What do you think you are doing little one?” I gasped. She replied that this was her duty, to give pleasure. I frowned and, reluctantly, pulled her hand away, “even with how you must feel, you would do this?” Naiya nodded, tears twinkling in her eyes. “No, little one, this time it is I who will help you forget your loss, even if it is only for a brief moment … may I?” She gulped and nodded, gratitude shining from her face.

During the next few minutes the shop was filled with the sounds of low moans and heavy panting as I set forth in my mission to help Naiya forget her grief. My fingers, lips, and tongue roamed over her body, seeking out and probing and teasing her blood engorged nipples, firm breasts, slender legs, pert bottom, and moist sex. I was amazed by her nipples; they had become more distended and full that any other I had seen before and my mouth and fingers always strayed back to one or the other of them, just to see if I could tease them out any further. As it turned out I couldn’t, but that didn’t stop me from trying, or indeed, loving every second of the attempts. Judging by the squirming and moaning Naiya was also enjoying it. By now the Dryad’s thighs were slick with moisture, glistening wetly in the sunlight, where her love juices had trickled from between her puffy labia.

I paused in my arousing attentions and for a moment gazed in admiration at Naiya as she lay on the floor, breasts and nipples jutting proudly, her splayed legs and the unabashed display of her feelings at the wet juncture of her thighs. I knelt between her legs and lowered my mouth to kiss and lick at her pussy, hands going under her bottom to lift her sweet sex to me. Her back arched as my tongue slowly probed into her moist pussy and she uttered a long moan. My hands squeezed her firm ass cheeks and my tongue delved in her hot, wet pussy, lapping at the velvety walls of her sex. Naiya’s body tensed under me and I could feel the climax building within her: her breathing became faster and faster, small heavy pants in time to the flicking of my tongue. Lowering her bottom, I slid two fingers into her sex and spread her pussy lips and started sucking and licking frantically. My other hand went straight to her hard clit and my fingers rubbed it lightly. Her pants turned into a long low moan and her pussy muscles clenched around my fingers and tongue and she pushed her hips up, grinding her wet sex against my mouth. Now, I thought, this was the moment, so I gently pinched her clit and slid my fingers into her tight cunt as my tongue withdrew, then reversed their positions, alternating fucking her with flickering tongue, then stroking and wriggling fingers.

By the way she screamed and thrashed on the floor, this seemed to have done the trick; Naiya howled as she climaxed, nectar cascading over my waiting tongue and fingers. I sucked and lapped at her, tasting the lovely Dryad’s sex. Naiya was a quivering wreck on the floor as I finished licking her clean, her face flushed with pleasure and her breasts wobbling delightfully as she shuddered her way through the orgasm. I lay by her side and gently caressed her, murmuring soothing words. “If I can help you find your grove and tree little one, I shall.” Naiya gave a sob of happiness and clung to me, “oh thank you, thank you.”

We passed the remainder of the afternoon in a comfortable and delicious cuddle of soft kisses and caresses, just talking of her grove, and what the area was now like. I listened in bemusement to her tale, not liking the sound of things: what power could do this to a grove sacred to Gaea? Various thoughts ran through my mind that afternoon: maybe she had suffered a mental block, or amnesia and thus couldn’t remember where her grove actually was? Or perhaps a rogue mage had done something more than usually stupid and dangerous? My options were limited as far as any problem with Naiya were concerned: I had no powers to help her regain full command of her memory; magic, however, that I could deal with, and made a mental note to visit young Rincewind at Unigo again.

As the afternoon passed it became cool, so we dressed and returned to the Inn, with me considering that The Naked Bird had been well and truly christened, and christened most delightfully. My sea faring cousins had a tradition of smearing a mix of earth and sea water on the prow of newly launched ships, but I think I preferred my method. Once back at the Inn I returned to my room and immersed myself in my spell books once more. This time I let my mind have free rein on it’s meandering thoughts about the spell structure and its limits and forms, hoping to fully reawaken my long unused skills of magical research. By the time I had finished devouring the tome night had well and truly fallen, so I turned in, hoping for an early start on the morrow.

I woke with the sweet sound of the dawn chorus and soft light filtering through my window. Rising from bed, feeling relaxed and content, I stretched and padded over to look out the window: the day looked to be a fair one. After a wash and seeing to my other bodily needs I dressed and headed down to the stables. I mounted Cloudwing and we made leisurely progress through the brightening day. Some hours later we arrived once more at Unigo, it’s appearance never failing to surprise and awe me. I left Cloudwing outside to graze on the lush grass and entered the portals of the greatest seat of learning that I had yet to find. As I strolled through the gardens I spotted a tall hat, with the point bent over slightly, bobbing along behind a row of tall plush shrubs. I called out, “ho, Rincewind.” The hat ducked from view. “L-Lady E-Ehlanna, is that you?” “Yes Rincewind, ‘tis just I.” The hat reappeared. “Are you dressed?” I laughed, “come and find out.” The hat promptly shot from sight again and I had a mental image of the mage huddling under a bench.

I waited a few moments but saw no sign of the hat, nor did I hear the sounds of scampering feet receding, “yes,” I sighed, “I’m quite dressed, you’re safe … for now.” “So I see.” I jumped as the voice sounded from behind me. I turned slowly to bestow my best smile on Rincewind, “we meet again young mage … and I have … need of you.” The look of horror that passed across his face was a treasure to behold. “I find myself in need … of your mind.” Relief visibly washed through the mage’s tense body, “I am at your service Lady Ehlanna, what do you require?” I explained my needs: access to his vast knowledge and prodigious memory, plus needing to gain access to the libraries store of records and journals. Rincewind frowned, “those are private and for the use of the staff here alone, what you ask is not possible.” I beckoned him closer, and to his credit, he approached me. “Naiya has mislaid her grove and her tree.” His mouth hung open as my words registered, “but … but that is not possible the sacred groves are protected against intrusion, both physical and mystical.” Rincewind, once he was assured I was not joking proceeded to show why he was the librarian at this august establishment. As we walked side by side to the library he proceeded to give me a most lucid account of the protections that lay within these groves. Most I was already aware of, but much of what he had to say was eye-opening to say the least.

The fascinating lecture continued as we took seats in the library reading room, Rincewind relaxed in my company, perhaps for the first time, as I asked question after question and he explained why and how I must be wrong. I had to smile, normally he would be a quivering bundle of nerves, waiting and twitching in case I decided to display some of my charms, but, here in his domain, he was at ease, truly a person content and fully at home. After a while, all we had agreed on was that Naiya’s tree, wherever it was, must still be alive, else she would be dying, or dead already. From this basic common point we explored the various avenues of possibility. Despite our various previous meetings and conversations, I found myself listening in amazement as this young human displayed knowledge of the arcane arts that exceeded my own. One day, I decided, I am going to come back and pick this young human’s brain for a year or more, but for the moment Naiya’s need was more pressing than my idle curiosity.

After a few hours of convoluted, and sometimes heated, discussion we had agreed on three possibilities. The first two were somewhat allied: Naiya had, through some emotional trauma, lost her memory of how to find her tree, or somehow, the grove had shifted position slightly, in order to protect itself. This, again, required Naiya to be suffering some mental lapse, as both Rincewind and I were in full accord on one point – a Dryad cannot be kept from her tree by an external agency. The last possibility was one that we considered to be the most tenuous: somehow a mage had done something, something to affect the entire area of the grove, and trans-located it. The only problem was, no such spell exists, and the power needed to cast this theoretical spell was vast: any normal mage would perish in an instant before even completing it.

I then asked Rincewind if any mages registered at Unigo had been gone for longer than normal, or were known as missing, particularly any who were renowned for their research into strange spells and effects. The mage looked at me in growing astonishment, “Xylagar.” I blinked, “sorry, is that a name or just an oath in some language I don’t know?” “Name … it’s the name of a mage we have been keeping an eye on. He’s been absent for about three weeks now. He … he, oh dear,” Rincewind looked at me with a degree of embarrassment, “he has, in the past, dabbled with things best left alone, and doesn’t have the depth of knowledge to do what he tries to do.” I leant forward, eyes glinting, “did he keep a journal?” Rincewind nodded slowly, “yes, we ask all mages to keep a journal of their studies … oh, you’re going to ask to see it, aren’t you?” I nodded emphatically, “yes, I think we need to read it don’t you?” He looked relieved as I stressed the ‘we’. “I’ll just go and get it.” I nodded at him, “and could you rustle up something to eat and drink?” He opened his mouth to harangue me, but bit back the retort as both our stomachs rumbled in unison. A rueful smile crossed his face and he nodded, “yes, that might be in order, tea and sandwiches?”

I sat back and waited, then smiling, unfastened the top few buttons of my blouse. Well, I wouldn’t be who I am if I didn’t manage to discomfort the sweet human mage at least once per meeting. Besides I wasn’t sure I’d entirely forgiven him for the wheelbarrow yet. Minutes later he trudged back in, carrying a tray of teas things and plates of sandwiches, plus a set of leather tomes and some notebooks and writing implements. He placed them on the low table and poured us each a cup. I leant forward to collect mine and chuckled as I heard the rattle of cup on saucer as he realized by blouse was gaping open, giving him a good view of my petite breasts. “Would you please not do that.” I looked at his flushed face as he looked anywhere, except at me, “sorry, it’s just quite warm in here, don’t you think?” For such an erudite man his response of “nnrrgghh” was not as forthcoming as I had hoped.

Nibbling on sandwiches and sipping tea, we looked at the first journal. “This is gibberish!” I exclaimed, “he’s written it in code.” Rincewind looked surprised, “of course it’s in code, would you want someone to steal your dress designs?” I stared at him, “my … dress … designs – how do you know about us opening a clothes shop?” I was so tempted to wipe that arch expression off of his face as he stared at me smugly. “Oh, alright, alright, you are the fount of all knowledge oh learnèd one. Now, does your knowledge extend to deciphering this scribble?” He shook his head, “no, that is why I brought the note books and quills and ink.” I sighed and leant back in my chair, “oh this is going to be fun, where do we start?” Rincewind beamed, “it all depends on what code he has used, if it is a simple substitution cipher it will be easy to break, we just need to do a distribution analysis and the construct a table. If, however, he has been more cunning and used a key word or phrase based code we will have more difficulty, it could take days or even weeks.”

I stared at him, “you’re enjoying this aren’t you?” The radiant smile grew larger. “You know something, don’t you?” I accused. The smile approached that of a saint entering heaven, and I made a mental note to try it out in front of a mirror to see how it looked on me. “Know your subject Lady Ehlanna, in this case, Xylagar. He just happens to be one of the laziest mages it has been my misfortune to know, so I am guessing this extends to his journal keeping. If this cipher is any more than a simple alpha shift I will eat my hat, point and all.” My mind started objecting at all these arcane terms it was being bombarded with, “Explain. Now. Or I will get very, very naked.” For once he seemed not to take me seriously, foolish boy, but he explained the concepts behind alpha shift and substitution ciphers. My mind sat up and metaphorically blinked, “is that it? That’s all? Nothing more complicated than that, that’s pathetic.” Rincewind nodded, “I told you he was lazy.”

So, we sat and made a table of the alphabet and started counting the number of occurrences of enciphered letters. It quickly became clear that Xylagar had used a simple alphe three shift, each letter represented by one three letters higher in the alphabet, so ‘a’ became ‘d’, and ‘z’ became ‘c’. Armed with this knowledge we started reading the journals in earnest. The early journals showed the signs of a disorganized mind, not what you would wish for in a mage. A constant theme throughout the entries was a way of modifying the strictures of existing spells to bend them into doing things they were not meant to do. I couldn’t believe much of it, it would be easier to construct a new spell from the ground up, at least that way it would, “he’s an idiot Rincewind, how in all the gods did he become a mage?” “Raw talent and power Lady, he was too powerful and ill disciplined not to be taught a semblance of control.”

Night came as we came to the final journal. Rincewind cast Light spells to illuminate the pages and we read in dawning horror Xylagar’s plans to rip the heart out of the Dimension Door spell and extend it’s range to anywhere the mage could bring clearly to mind. This was a vast difference to his previous botched attempts. From somewhere he seemed to have gained the patience to actually sit down and think things through. The entries contained spell matrix diagrams with annotations, rambling thoughts about how the necessary power could be gained to power the spell. As one, Rincewind and I turned to look at one another. “Dear gods, you know what he’s done don’t you?” He nodded, “yes, look at that.” I followed his finger to the part of the latest spell matrix and nodded, “yes, the idiot has managed to link both the surrounding area, and his life force into the power tap, then he has mapped that onto the sub-matrix defining affect area.” Rincewind groaned, “if he tries this spell, I have no idea what will happen … but I think … I think …” His brow furrowed as he chased down the tangled web of the spell, “oh no, it would feedback and continuously fuel the spell, he and the what, surrounding acre or so?, would be permanently apporting.” “Yes,” I nodded, “but to where? Look at the targeting strictures, he’s done … something to them.” We both lent forward to study the spell matrix closely. “What on earth has he done to this … it looks like the normal strictures, but oddly different.”

Rincewind uttered a low oath, “you know what he’s done don’t you? He has only gone and left the strictures open – he could end up anywhere.” I glanced up at Rincewind who was shaking his head in denial, “how could he be so stupid?” I asked. “It’s Xylagar, it’s his nature to be stupid, he probably thought he could fill that in on the fly with an area he was thinking of.” “Right. He’s in the middle of a magical feedback loop which is leeching his life out, and he thinks he can spare enough thought to consider his destination?”

Rincewind looked at me, then averted his gaze rapidly as he once more espied my bosom, “I hate to say this Lady Ehlanna, but you may be right … Xylagar may have caused Naiya’s grove to disappear … but … but, it may have only shifted to protect itself, we can hope for that at least. The alternative is to horrible to contemplate.” “And what is the alternative Rincewind?” He paused to gather his thoughts, “well, it could mean that the grove is constantly being sent to limbo, null-space, or some other dimension, being slowly drained of it’s essence to keep the spell intact and powered.” I shuddered, “then, that would explain why Naiya can still feel her tree, it is still, in some strange way, here, at least for fractions of seconds, then elsewhere. Dear gods, it could be bouncing around from here to … to wherever, how do we stop it? And what about Xylagar?”

The young mage leant back and stretched from the hours of being hunched up poring over the journals, “most likely dead. I would imagine his life force has been sucked from him by now, and left him a dry desiccated husk.” We looked at one another again, sharing the same thoughts if I read his expression correctly. I spoke the dread words first, “but the grove, Naiya’s tree? … They will die … Naiya will …” I lapsed into uncomfortable silence, unable to complete the thought. Rincewind nodded, “yes, if that is the case, then, she is doomed to a long, lingering death. I stood, wincing as my back muscles objected to my sudden change of position, “I need to check some things out at the site of Naiya’s grove. If the spell is still active I should be able to detect it.” “I, “ Rincewind said, “shall investigate this spell further, and see what can be done to counter it, but I warn you Lady, it will need the co-operation of a great deal of powerful mages, unless we merely want to accomplish what Xylagar may have done.” “I also shall direct my thoughts that way, anything to stop me thinking of Naiya fading to nothing.” I kissed the mage on the top of his head, “my thanks for your help young one.” I left the blushing mage and left the library and walked out into the late morning sun-light, blinking in the sudden glare, and surprise as the amount of time that had passed unnoticed in our studies.

I mounted Cloudwing, lost in thought, and we trotted back to the Inn, my body and mind calling out for rest. One part of my tired brain bemoaned the disturbance to my quiet life, not only had I a shop to set up, now I also had to, perhaps, clear up after a rogue mage. Another part, long dormant, was now awake and alert, brushing away the cobwebs of inactivity, busy plotting and planning my forthcoming actions. Content to let my subconscious cope with the problems I dozed off lulled by Cloudwing’s gentle gait. A plaintive whinny drew me back to my senses. Cloudwing was standing patiently in the Inn’s stables, gently letting me know that she would rather appreciate being allowed to get to the grain and water she could smell. I slipped off her back and stroked her faithful neck, “go eat and rest dear one, and thank you.” Cloudwing huffed and trod gently on my foot, just to make plain which of us was in charge here, then walked into her stall. I limped back into the Inn and made my weary way up to my room. Not bothering to disrobe I dropped onto my bed and was asleep within seconds of my head hitting the pillow.

I awoke just after dark, having had a fitful and restless sleep, tormented by strange and disturbing dreams, which faded as my eyes slowly came into focus. I sat up and reviewed what my sleeping mind had come up with. First, I had to see the site of Naiya’s grove, or at least the place it had once supposedly been. I also needed to send a message to my mother and ask her to send me cloth for the shop, not to mention make the breech cloth for Garnet, then I had to start planning clothes to stock the shop with, arrange payment to Ellena for the house, check out Shaka’s designs, work out how to over-come Xylagar’s spell, finding the Troll and his band. And then there was breakfast. That was easy to deal with. Judging from the dark outside my window, breakfast was no longer an option. I climbed out of bed and ran my fingers through my snaggled hair and splashed cold water over my face. A few hasty Clean spells cast at skirt and blouse, and I felt ready to confront what was left of the day.

The Inn was bustling at this hour, but I found an empty table and ordered food and drink. I ate ravenously, the benefits of Rincewind’s sandwiches having long fled. I was lingering over a post meal coffee when I felt a presence looming over me. I looked up to meet the enigmatic gaze of the human mage Story. Now this was a turn up for the books; as far as I knew he had a deep seated hatred of surface Elves, and since he didn’t have a weapon in hand, and I could feel no calling of power, I assumed he wanted to talk. “We need to talk,” he nodded at the door, “outside, in private.” Masking my bemusement as best I could I glanced down at my coffee, “be right with you.” He turned on his heel and went outside. As I finished the dregs of the cooling coffee I wondered what he needed to talk about: maybe he wanted my help in plotting the overthrow of the Elven kingdoms. Well, unless I spoke to him, it would ever remain a mystery, so I stood and sauntered out of the Inn to meet him, all senses alert for sign of trouble. He was leaning his shoulder on the Inn wall, looking inscrutable, nonchalant, and just plain infuriating all at once. Perhaps these humans could teach me something after all, and made a mental note to try out projecting various conflicting combinations of attitudes. “I’m here Story, what is it you need to talk about?” Amusement flooded through me with his simple answer.”

“Books.”

“Just books, or any special books?”

“Is there a library nearby? I need to consult some specialist tomes.”

“Well, not really, your best bet would be to go to Unigo and ask there. May I ask why?” This time I was baffled by the simple response.”

“Dryads, I need to know about Dryads.”

I began to feel a bit nervous, “I know somewhat of Dryads, can I help?” I tensed myself for his answer, knowing in my heart where he was heading.

“Can they survive without their grove?”

“You mean Naiya, don’t you?”

“Yes, Naiya. You know about her losing her grove?”

I nodded, “yes, I do, and I am trying to find out how and why, and how to get it back.” I hid a smile as a look of shock flitted briefly in his eyes. “I have been to Unigo and studied some journals and I think I may know what has happened.” This time his surprise was more palpable. “You know?” I nodded and patiently explained what Rincewind and I had un-earthed. Story was silent for a while, musing, the wheels in his mind spinning furiously. “We’d need mages, a lot of them, plus warriors in case there are hostiles in whatever place the grove has gone … maybe rangers to help find it on the other side, healers too, just in case …” His voice tailed off, “but how do we get there?” I took a deep breath, “well … you’d need a spell for all the mages to join to with, to open a gate, so that the spell can be cancelled at it’s source. And it would have to be done soon, before all the energy is sucked from the grove.”

Story nodded, his mind still calculating, “powerful mages to withstand the drain of the spell, how many? How powerful?” “Until I see the incantation and spell matrix I have no idea Story, but the more powerful the better, and the more the merrier, if one was to fail, the energy drain would increase on the rest, it could cause a cascade failure. Plus you’d some to go through and cancel the spell.” He continued nodding slowly, “I … I will see who I can find … do you have any suggestions?” I grinned, “you’re not going to like this, but I’d take K2 if I were you.” Story’s eyes flashed at the name, “her? Why her? You know we have unfinished business between us?” “Yes, indeed I do, but she would be useful to go through the gate, her barbarian lack of complexity is more likely to be able to cope with whatever is on the other side.” He sighed, “yes, that sounds reasonable … but K2? Yes, yes, I’ll ask the ‘woman’”

Story returned to the Inn, doubtless to plan some way of recruiting K2 whilst leaving his throat intact. I, however, needed to be at Naiya’s grove. I walked round the Inn to the stables and whistled. Cloudwing whinnied in response and trotted out. I was careful to avoid her hooves as I swung myself astride her. We trotted through the night, seeking out the location of the grove. It was obvious when we go there. I stared in disbelief for long moments at the huge clearing in the forest. As Naiya had told me, all growing things had gone, leaving an unnatural gap in the forest. I slid off Cloudwing and slowly wandered about, hoping that the numbness from the shock would wear off. I could put the moment off no longer, I cast my senses wide searching for traces of magic. I gasped and fell to my knees at the flood of impressions that washed through me. I had to close my eyes for a while and take long slow breaths to calm myself before I dared open my senses again, this time mentally braced for the deluge of sensations.

All around me were the weavings of Gaea, brilliant pulses of natural magic that all but blinded me. I spent long minutes sorting out all the vibrant colors, mentally filing away what each strand was for. It dawned on me that these were the protections for the grove, but in that case, where was the grove? Surely they should have followed? I tried tuning out the throbbing colors and finally saw a faint thread that pulsed rapidly, hidden within the complex weft of Gaea’s magics. I studied it closely, examining the form and structure, it seemed in some way familiar; then it became suddenly clear. This was the spell that Xylagar had cast, that was why I recognized it. I sat in confusion. If the spell was here, and was active, why was it not linked to the grove, it seemed to have no connection to it whatsoever. I brought Xylagar’s spell matrix to mind and mentally reviewed it, thinking that maybe Rincewind and I had missed something in our tiredness.

I frowned in confusion. My brain whirled, one half berating me for considering myself a mage, the other, more analytical, half was busy coming up with an explanation and presented me the answer. I screamed in outrage and pounded my fists on the barren earth. Something went wrong? Was that the best I could come up with? I debated pulling my brain out and stamping on it. I looked at the dim strand of magic again, hoping for inspiration. Yes, my brain howled, look, something went wrong. I blinked and studied the strand deeper, what was I trying to tell myself? I stared at the pulsing strand, its dim light over-shadowed by the vastness of the surrounding protective magics. Yes, yes, look, dim, my brain screamed. I growled at myself, yes, I knew it was dim, what had … The realization hit me like a tidal wave and I was glad I was already sitting down. How could I have been so stupid? Of course the thread was dim, it was dying, and it was so dim for such a powerful spell because it was only being powered by the dwindling life force of a mortal man! That was the answer – it had gone wrong, when the grove’s protections had detected the invasive leech on it’s energy it had done the only thing it could to avoid such a wide ranging power tap: it had moved the grove. Denied the grove as an energy source the spell, with its feedback loop, had fastened on Xylagar to power it alone. I shuddered at the mages fate, to be trapped in an endless spell feeling his very essence being slowly drained from him.

Now, to explain the protections still being here … why had they not followed the grove? I contemplated this discrepancy, hoping that an answer would be forthcoming to bolster my theory, knowing that if I was right, then Naiya’s grove was safe, elsewhere, but on this plane of existence, and above all, safe. I steeled myself to examine the surrounding area, opening myself fully to the full impact of the vortices of magic present. I willed myself to concentrate solely on the rogue spell and anything allied to it, forcing myself to ignore the vibrant rainbow hues of the groves magic. As I sunk deeper into a deep trance, I noticed tiny threads weaving about, seemingly blown by an ethereal wind. I followed them back to the main spell and knew what had happened. It was still trying to tap into the grove, desperately searching for the life energy of Naiya’s tree. The protective magic’s remained, deflecting all attempts of the strands to seek out and find it. I recalled Story mentioning a mystic compass Naiya had tried using to find her tree, and the fact that it’s needle swung wildly, never pointing in the same direction for more than a few seconds. This was why: the grove was protecting itself from all magical attempts to find it; misdirecting all magical probes.

I hugged my knees and broke down into racking sobs as I knew, absolutely knew, that Naiya was not going to die, that her grove and her tree were safe. All that was required was the passage of time, in a few days, maybe a week, Xylagar’s life would be sucked dry and the spell would fail. Then, and only then, would the groves protective spells allow it to come back. And it would come back, else why would it have allowed it’s magics to remain?

My sobs of happiness were interrupted by a soft whicker and a pair of wet lips nuzzling my ear. I looked up and stroked Cloudwing’s muzzle, “it’s all well dear one, all well. Come, let us tell Naiya the news.” She lifted her head and neighed loudly, shaking her head. “Yes, Cloudwing, I know, it’s wrong here, I’m coming dear one.” I stood and rubbed her between her laid back ears, then sprang onto her back. Without prompting she burst into a canter back to the Inn. I slid off her back, once we were in the stables, “fresh grain for you dear one, and maybe, if you’re good, I’ll see if I can rustle up a stallion for you.” Cloudwing whinnied and butted her head on my chest. “Yes, I do mean it.” She whickered and, without stepping on my foot, walked into the stall. Oh dear, one more thing to arrange. I tried to tidy my wind swept hair, gave it up as a lost cause and walked into the Inn, hoping against hope to see Naiya. My heart soared as I caught sight of the sweet Dryad, sitting quietly and morosely by herself, staring at the table in front of her, lost in thought.

I walked over to her table and paused, waiting for her to look up. As I met her eyes, dulled by pain and loss, I smiled.

“Naiya, I have good news …”

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