Tales from Talor

The Sword of Aviondore

By

Colleen Thomas

MissColly@aol.com

This blade shall bring death and woe to your

enemies My Queen. As long as it is wielded by

one of your line it shall never know defeat. Yet,

I foresee that one day, far beyond even the

reckoning of Elves it will bring about the end

of the line of Aviondore.

DonAu Tu'vervain, Court seer

upon the presentation of

Angrost to queen Shalima

Aviondore,in the first age.

The faint gray light of dawn had yet to penetrate the canopy of branches. A single figure moved along the darkened forest path with such grace and ease that even the animals of the forest did not notice her passing. She was tall and lithe and moved with a purposeful stride, seeming to fear neither falling nor becoming lost. As light slowly began to filter through the canopy of leaves her form became more distinct, but she seemed so much a part of the natural world that only a keen observer would have been able to tell.

T'larin paused on the edge of a small dale and carefully surveyed the open area. She knew this wood as only an elf could know it. The Elven race was the longest-lived race on the face of Talor and T'larin was no longer young even by their standards. Only death by disease or mishap kept them from being immortal. Slow to anger and to experience other emotions they were considered by men to be aloof and cold. Still, the hot-blooded elven temptress was popular in their myths and songs, for the elves were a hauntingly beautiful people. T'larin was typical of her people; she was tall and light boned with delicate features and long blonde hair. Her skin was soft and carried the light blue hue of the northern tribes rather than the light green of Sylvan folk. Slow to anger and to friendship she was considered cold and proud even by her own people. This was to be expected from the daughter of a queen. Elven society was dichotomous in that men held the power, but lineage was traced through the mother's side.

This area had once been rolling grasslands between the Nero' Larta or Singing River in the common language of men and the swift Se` Larta or Falling River. Men considered the forest here old and they called it the haunted wood. Most men would not dare cross it unless they were in very dire need. To the Elves no wood held any dread and the trees here were young to those of the undying race. It was now called the Westermark and was claimed by the king of Silverwood.

The move was premature in the opinion of many elves for none of the great silver leaved Talthas trees had reached maturity in this area. The king had made the move for reasons other than nature, although he acknowledged that only to a handful of his closest advisors. T'larin had been chosen to be the march warder for the new lands by the sylvan king partly for her intimate knowledge of the area, but more for her better grasp of the situation outside the elven kingdoms. Here on this bright morning in her peaceful woods she allowed herself to think dark thoughts concerning that situation.

The Orcs of the Iron Dust Mountains were massing for war against the young human kingdoms along the coast. The battles had already begun in the north where T'larin and her people hailed from. Here in the south increased raids by orcs and other evil creatures had begun to become more prevalent only in the last few months. The adding of this land was meant to create a buffer for Silverwood. It would also allow the Elves to cut off the direct line of retreat for orcish raiding parties without having to declare themselves openly in league with the humans. While the hatred of Elf and Orc was as old as time itself the Elves, especially the Sylvan Elves were still very cautious when it came to men. They had fought several border wars with the men who lived in the valley of the Nero'Larta in years past. That was ancient history to the men who lived there now, but only a blink of the eye had passed in the long memories of the elves.

T'larin was not of the sylvan people; her people were the high elves of the North and had already created such marches to protect Aslaheim, their homeland. It was for this reason that she had been chosen as Marcher Lord over others with better connections to the throne. Aladar, king of the sylvan elves, trusted her to carry out her mission here without embroiling the elves in the coming war. T'larin suspected that there was some far greater force of evil directing the orcs and that soon all races would be involved. She kept this fear to herself however, knowing it would be unwise to voice it with no proof.

Many of her northern kin felt that Kalouth, the great deceiver was rising again. T'larin was only a child when her father had led the Great host of Aslaheim to aid the beleaguered men and dwarves of the northern coast. Kalouth's host had been crushed and his great tower laid low, but even the mightiest of magics had been unable to destroy the keystone. Of Kalouth there had been no trace and no whisper of him for ages up on ages, until men forgot and the dwarves added him to their legends. Only the elves remembered him for the threat he was. Now rumors came that the dark tower had risen again, but these were rumors, nothing more, for no good creature had set foot in the Forbidden Vale in all the ages since the tower was destroyed.

She considered these things as the sun slowly warmed on her face and shivered as an unnamed chill passed through her. A rabbit carefully approached the small brook and took a drink while songbirds flitted through the trees. They took no notice of her, partly because she was so attuned to nature, but partly because of her garb. She wore a white archer's shirt, which was open at the neck showing an almost daring amount of cleavage. Her green stockings were tucked into well-worn brown knee boots. These boots had been fashioned in the Silverwood and bore a minor enchantment, which allowed the wearer to move silently over any terrain. Her cloak was also of elvish make and bore a minor enchantment that allowed it to blend into any surroundings. Around her waist was a broad leather girdle from which several pouches and her sword hung. A simple leather band with elvish runes of protection painstakingly carved into it held her long blonde hair back.

T'larin sighed and leaned on her bow staff. It was unstrung now and she used it as a walking stick, but in an instant she could string the mighty bow and send one of the lethal cloth yard shafts from the quiver hanging on her shoulder at an enemy. She expected no danger here, but something was bothering her, an almost tangible feeling of menace hung in the air. She moved to the stream and took a long drink of the cool water before starting off again. It was many leagues to the small enclave where her march warders were to meet tonight. She had been walking for over an hour when stopped suddenly and stared in wonder. Before her a Talthas sapling stood. It had only a leaf or two but it stood nearly as tall as she did. This was a good omen and for a while the feeling of dread left her.

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The Se'Larta was called the Falling River by men. It gained the name because it fell in a series of spectacular falls out of the Ergos Mountains and ran in a swift crescent to join the mighty Singing River, which rolled for leagues and leagues until it finally met the sea at the port city of Waterdown. The Se'Larta could be forded safely in only two places in its long sweep and thus formed an effective barrier. The first was King's Ford near the feet of the mountains and second was Queen's Ford a few leagues above the massive Eagle Falls, the last fall before the two rivers joined. Over the past few months Orcish raiding parties had descended from the Ergos mountains and forded at King's Ford, marching through the woods they had cut out the huge sweep of the river and crossed at Queen's Ford to raid the villages of men on the east side of the Singing River. Orcs left damage in their wake that it would take the forest years to repair. They seemed to delight in killing living things and marring any beauty they came upon.

Two months ago T'larin had set up her base just above King's Ford when she first arrived. She and her few march warders had harried the orcs and set up ambushes with such brutal efficiency that it appeared the orcs were now avoiding the ford and taking the long way around. This had the effect of leaving them exposed to the cavalry of the men on the long return march and there had been several bloody encounters. The Orcs were unable to tame horses, for all animals hated them and this gave the humans their one advantage in combating the orcs for horses could move far and fast upon the plains.

It was in this manner that the Sylvan folk chose to aid the men of the valley rather than helping them in battle. They also turned a blind eye to the men who would cut through their lands to get in front of an orcish raiding party. The men were respectful of the forest, cutting neither tree nor branch and building only small fires. They had learned long ago that elves watched the woods and took a dim view of anyone who thought to change or damage the haunted wood.

On this evening T'larin was sitting before a large bonfire and nodding as Colfinin, the bard told the story of DaMiel the elfin princess who fell in love with the human hero Cardan. The story was very old and in the mode of most Elvish leys it was very tragic. T'larin was tired from the long walk and not in the mood for it. In the story, DaMiel was unable to resolve her love for a human and the scorn of her peers. She had taken her own life by throwing herself from Eagle Falls or so the legends said. The feeling of impending doom would not leave T'larin and she wished she had requested a happy tale for tonight. She was actually happy when Ral-Nir'Thronin hurried in and whispered to her that she was needed at the ford.

Ral was her constant companion and bodyguard. Old even for elves he had been present at the founding of Aslaheim in a time so remote most elves did not remember it. He had loved once, but his wife and children had been slaughtered by orcs during the first Orc War. He had been away with the host aiding the men and dwarves and never forgave the lesser races for it. He had changed after that and was considered fell and dangerous by all who knew him. Ral seemed to love little in the world, neither the forest nor the sea, but he dearly loved T'larin, as she had been his daughter's dearest friend.

When T'larin and Ral arrived at the ford she found several of the rangers well concealed and intently watching the open area across the river. In the fading twilight the light copse of trees hid any movement but the sounds of battle were all too plain. There were cries in the common tongue of man and also shouts in the brutish language of the orcs. T'larin strung her bow and knocked an arrow even though she could perceive no target. The sounds of combat faded into the gathering darkness and all was suddenly quiet. After a few minutes her keen eyes caught movement in the copse. A human female clad in dark red armor staggered out of the woods. She held a sword in her hand, with the blade snapped off about 3 inches above the hilt. Her other arm was cradled to her side, but T'larin could not tell if the side was wounded or the arm in the fading light.

She stumbled and dropped the sword, crawling the last few feet to the edge of the river. The human dunked her head in the cold water and when she came up for air she was looking right into T'larin's eyes. T'larin felt her breath catch in her throat; the girl's eyes were startlingly green. Her hair was fiery red; even that which was wet and she had a deep cut across her forehead that was oozing blood. Red hair was unheard of among the elves, blonde being predominant in the northern folk and black among the sylvan folk. The distance could not have been over eighty paces, but T'larin was sure the girl could not see her, but she felt as if the girl was looking right through her. Movement in the copse behind her caused the girl to whip her head about and broke the spell.

Four large Orcs came into the open and one of them spoke. The language was vile and barbaric, but like most elves T'larin understood it.

"Toldja, saw er run,"

"Ya did Grunmesha, ya can av second go at er," the largest one grunted back.

"I saw er first, I shud get first go," the one called Grunmesha snarled. The larger one cuffed him sharply across the mouth and then turned back to the girl. Her hand went to her side and produced a wicked knife from a tattered scabbard. If it bothered the orcs they made no sign of it.

"Put the sticker down girle, we ain't gonna hurt ya none," the big one grunted in common.

"Ya, gunna give ya the time of yer life," another said and they all laughed.

The orcs were a prolific and rapacious race. They were able to crossbreed with almost all of the humanoid races, producing offspring that were generally as vile looking and evil as themselves. Occasionally the pairing would produce a child who could pass for the mother's race and these children were highly prized by the orcs as spies and infiltrators. One thing was certain no female ever took pleasure from such a mating; the orcs were brutal and cared not a bit for their victims. They were also exceptionally large and many women died from the experience.

The girl seemed unsure of what to do, she was obviously too weak to fight the four of them off, but she appeared ready to try. She tried to stand, but sank back to the ground with a sob. The orcs laughed and closed in on her, but she seemed to weak too even move again. T'larin was torn between wanting to help and exposing her few archers to what might be a considerable force of orcs. If it had been a man she would not have intervened, if the orcs had moved in for the kill she might not have, but when the leader began to undo the filthy loin clout he wore her bow seemed to act of it's own accord. Her broadhead arrow traversed the short distance with a buzzing sound to bury itself in the orc's neck. The other elves acted on their leader and in moments all four orcs were down, so full of arrows they looked like large ugly birds. The girl looked up weakly, her eyes disbelieving and then she collapsed.

T'larin was already moving before the last flight of arrows found its target. She splashed into the freezing river and fought against the swift current as the water quickly rose above her waist. Part of her mind was questioning what she was doing, but she ignored the small voice and gritted her teeth against the cold. She was just emerging when a small orc stepped into the clearing. He saw her at the exact moment she saw him. Before she could even think the orc sent up as squawking scream and ran back into the woods followed closely by a hail of arrows.

There was no time to think now; her body and mind were reacting without conscious thought. She dashed to the human's side only to find her unconscious. She was not a big woman as humans went barely five foot ten and around one hundred and forty five pounds, but that was a very big person to T'larin who was almost six feet tall but weighed barely one hundred pounds. T'larin stooped and managed to get the girl over her shoulder. When she stood up she staggered and nearly fell. The life of a ranger had made her strong and athletic, but the girl's dead weight was a heavy burden. She stumbled back toward the freezing river feeling her breath begin to burn in her lungs.

As she trudged through the water her legs quickly became numb. A volley of arrows whizzed above her head and she heard growls and howls of rage behind her. An arrow splashed into the water near her, but she ignored it and continued struggling through the icy water. She was beginning to falter when she heard several splashes behind her. Orcs were following her into the river and cold fear welled up within her. She suddenly felt a burst of energy return to her leaden limbs. The adrenalin surge carried her up the slippery bank, where she unceremoniously dumped the girl's dead weight and whirled on the balls of her feet. The beautifully sculpted long sword she wore snicked from its scabbard and settled comfortably into her hand.

The blade was ancient even for her race. Forged in the First Age for the Orc Wars it had been wielded by her great grandmother in the defense of Aslaheim and by her father when Kalouth's power had been broken. Orcs, trolls and evil men beyond counting had fallen before the blade's fury in the dim past. The blade shown with a cold blue fire that gave some light in the thickening gloom. Enchantments by the score had been cast upon the blade as it was forged. No other blade had ever been forged with such skill and care and it remained the pinnacle of the weapon smith's art. The skill to make swords like it had vanished long ago when Dragons and Orcs sacked Midrand and the great smith's perished.

The orcs in the stream, who had been close upon her heels when she turned fell back in a squealing panic. Even the centuries had not dimmed their fear and loathing of the blade called Angrost, the Orc's Bane. The orcs turned and fled stumbling over one another and floundering in the cold stream. The arrows striking them down from the shadows had enraged them, but seeing Orc's Bane naked and glittering had replaced that anger with cold fear. T'larin smiled grimly as she resheathed her blade. Ral came out of the shadow of the woods with a smile upon his face and a nearly empty quiver. The far bank was littered with corpses and she wondered if that was the lot of them.

"The next time Milady Captain decides to play hero I hope she would let us poor underlings know. One quiver is not enough it would seem to keep you out of trouble," he said indicating the single arrow left in his quiver. The tone was reproachful, Ral had promised to keep her safe when her father had assented to her leaving Aslaheim. T'larin knew better, no Elf hated the orcs with the implacable, timeless hatred Ral held for them.

"The next time you can play hero and I will give cover fire," T'larin replied after she had caught her breath.

"What of her?" Ral said as he pushed the girl's shoulder with the toe of his boot. His disdain for humans was nearly as strong as his hatred of the orcs. He was everything men expected of an Elf, haughty, arrogant and aloof. T'larin understood his feelings; she had never had many dealings with men. Those she had met were hairy and wild, totally unrefined and insultingly familiar or obsequious and not to be trusted. Her brother had killed a man in a duel over his ogling of her when she was still a mere child. Learning from the episode her father had kept her well away from his audience chambers when men came after that.

"Have her taken to my platform. Send runners to bring fresh quivers and double the guard here tonight. The Orc's are waxing brave if they are willing to engage us over the ford. This whole episode brings upon me an ill feeling,"

"Aye, I have felt it too. Something is in the wind, on the tip of the tongue of the animals of the forest, but I cannot yet hear the words,"

"Ral, I fear some great evil is upon us. Send runners to Silverwood and call out the guard. Call all of the warders in and watch the ford with special care,"

"Have you had a vision T'larin?"

"Nay, I do not have my mother's gift of foresight, it is simply a feeling that calls to me so strongly I must heed it,"

"Should we tend to this one's injuries?"

"Nay, I will tend to her, she is my problem," T'larin said quickly. When the older elf looked at her questioningly she smiled, "My just rewards for playing hero,"

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T'larin was bone weary as she mounted the ladder that would take her up to the platform that served as her home. She had seen to the girl being carried away on a litter and had stayed with her men until the second watch arrived with fresh arrows and eyes. The hurried walk back to her encampment had seemed to take forever and she found herself worrying about the girl even though she could find no reason why.

The platform was built into the fork if an ancient Oak tree. So cunningly worked that only an elf would be able to see it from the ground. It was open to the elements, but the canopy of branches above had been carefully sculpted so that rain would run off and never touch it. In all things the Elves strived to work and live with nature and even their homes blended with the great forest rather than altering it.

The girl was still lying on the crude litter used to bring her here. T'larin stooped and touched her neck, the pulse was weak and her breathing was shallow. The tall elf regretted waiting so long to treat her, but the demands of her position as March Warder often forced her to do things she was not happy with. The best healer in her small group was with the guard at the ford, T'larin could not spare her for the human when her own kind might have need of her skills at any moment.

T'larin's practiced eye told her that the girl was bleeding to death from at least one wound if not many. T'larin removed her cloak and heated some water over the fire on the hearthstone. The head wound looked to be minor, but one could never tell with head wounds. The small pool of blood under the human's back told of a much more serious wound in her side. This was the wound T'larin had to get to first, but the girl's armor was strange to her and she was not sure how to remove it. Her armor was of blood red leather that seemed to be sculpted to her body. Metal studs were placed in areas of vulnerability like the breasts, shoulders, sides and along the back between her shoulder blades. T'larin could not figure out how to remove the armor and was beginning to think she would have to send for someone to cut it off when she realized the middle row of studs on the left side were actually beautifully worked buckles. T'larin quickly undid the row of buckles and unlaced the heavy gorget.

With some tugging the whole piece came up over the girl's head and T'larin tossed it aside. Under the armor the girl wore only a dirty and blood stained chemise. T'larin cut it away with her knife without thinking, for time was growing short. T'larin was only interested in the wound, but she could not help but notice how the girl's heavy breasts bounced free of the chemise. They were beautiful and smooth, covered in freckles and capped with rosy pink nipples. T'larin found herself staring at them and shook her head to clear it before she examined the wound. Even then her eyes strayed again and again to the soft mounds.

The girl's side was deeply bruised and a furrow was torn between two ribs. T'larin had treated many wounds and recognized this one as a spear thrust. Even if she had not fought the orcs at the ford she would have surmised it was from an orcish spear. The jagged tear showed signs of being caused by a barbed spear and only orcs used those cruel weapons. T'larin bathed the wound carefully, slowly removing the caked blood and dirt until the wound began to bleed freely again. She let it bleed for a minute to finish cleaning it, the orcs were well known for coating their blades in all manner of filth to aid in causing infection. Once satisfied that the wound was truly clean T'larin dressed it in a clean white cloth from her pack.

The head wound was actually very shallow, but as was often the case it had bled a lot. T'larin surmised a near miss by a knife or sword. She quickly dressed the wound, adding a mixture of herbs from one of her pouches to aid in healing and prevent scarring.

The deep red stockings the girl wore were wet along her hip. T'larin tugged the girl's knee boots off and then peeled the stockings down. If the girl's breasts had held her attention longer than they should have, the sight of her thick red pubic thatch actually caused T'larin to gasp. Elves had no body hair at all and the shock of golden red fleece fascinated her. T'larin actually caught herself reaching out to touch the girl's sex before she mastered herself.

"What is wrong with me?" she thought. Pushing the sight from her mind she concentrated on the hip wound. It was another ragged affair and bore the hallmarks of an orc spear. As she worked to clean it T'larin found herself giving the girl a grudging admiration. She knew warriors who would not have been able to fight on with such wounds. Perhaps there was more to these humans than she supposed.

Once the hip wound was cleaned and dressed T'larin sat back and wiped her brow. Something was very wrong, but she was not sure what. The girl's breathing was even shallower now and when T'larin leaned close she could smell that it was fetid. That smell was the scent of death and it was a slow death from poison. T'larin had found no signs of poison in any of the wounds she had treated. She examined the girl again closely, she must have missed something and time was growing very short. T'larin found what she was looking for on the back of the girl's calf. A small discoloration, not much bigger than a mole. The puncture had not bled which is why she had missed it at first. With her knife T'larin dug out the tip of a dart.

These darts were a cruel weapon, thin and sharp with brittle tips that often broke off leaving only a small bit in the wound. After a battle there were always nicks, cuts and a few very minor wounds. She had seen elves who came through a battle with nothing visibly wrong, the very picture of heath when they went to bed only to be found cold and lifeless the next morning. The poison was subtle, first causing paralyzation of the muscles. The victim was often awake and knew he needed help, but was incapable of making his companions aware of his plight. Slowly the heart and lungs failed while a pain like liquid fire ran through the veins. Many who had been saved at the last moment never fully recovered from the ordeal. No one knew exactly what the orcish shamans used to create the poison, but the elves had found that the liquid obtained by crushing a Talthas leaf was the best antidote.

T'larin was weary and the nearest mature Talthas trees were leagues away in Silverwood. She knew the rest of her company would advise her to slit the girl's throat and save her the slow agonizing death that the poison brought. Even now T'larin was sure the girl was paralyzed and only being unconscious was sparing her the intense pain. Regretfully she picked up her knife and prepared to put the girl out of her misery, but something stayed her hand. T'larin was holding her knife and looking at the human's face when her eyes fluttered open. Those deep green eyes showed fear and pain so eloquently that it touched the elf woman's very soul.

T'larin felt tears well in her eyes. She had not cried in ages and yet something in this girl's plight touched her in a place she had never felt before. She knew she would do anything to save this girl's life and yet she was helpless. She could never hope to make it to Silverwood and back in time to save her. Even if she used her best runners the precious leaf would arrive too late. She wiped the girls brow and murmured, "It's going to be all right, sleep now,"

The girl seemed to understand the words and her eyes slowly closed. T'larin sat back and wiped a tear from her cheek. Something tugged at her memory, something important, but in her unexpected grief it took a long time to make her examine it. When it did she leapt to her feet and descended the ladder in great haste. Turning she ran into the forest, leaving the few elves left in camp to puzzle over her sudden departure.

Branches slashed at her face as she ran, but she had no time to avoid them. Somewhere up this wild track was a sapling, a Talthas sapling. The walk that took hours that morning she made in less than two, moving with the desperation of fear. In her haste she must have passed it for she suddenly burst into the small dale with the brook and startled a hart. She turned and forced herself to move slowly looking all about. In the dark she passed it a second time before retracing her steps. The little sapling was still very young and there were only two leaves on it. T'larin took them both, whispering a prayer to Lalean, the forest spirit as she did so.

By the time T'larin made it back the first gray light of dawn was tinting the sky. She hurried to the girl's side, fearing she had come to late. She was again surprised when she found the girl still breathing. An elf would be dead by now yet the girl was still clinging to life. Maybe the venom was more toxic to her kind. Or maybe she had misjudged this race in her prejudice. She felt slightly ashamed of herself but she had no time to examine these thoughts. She took both leaves and slowly twisted them until a few precious drops of liquid fell onto the girl's full lips. When her pink tongue gently licked the fluid from her lips and T'larin felt a stab of something in the pit of her stomach. Her day's exertions seemed to catch up with her all at once and she felt drained. She dropped the two leaves into a small kettle and brought the water to a boil over the hearth. T'larin bathed the small wound in the sweet smelling water and then dressed it. Having done all she could for the girl she pulled a blanket over the still form and collapsed onto her bed.

T'larin's dreams were chaotic, filled with images of the orcs, the battle at the ford and most hauntingly the human's lips, breasts and sex. In her dream the girl came and sat on her chest, those soft lips descended to press against T'larin's own.

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She awoke to a soft breeze whispering through the trees. The sounds of the camp were pleasant and comfortable, the rattle of cooking utensils, the bard's quiet plucking of his lyre, muted conversations and laughter. It was only when she sat up and saw the girl's still form that the previous days events came flooding back into her mind. The girl was so still that T'larin could not even detect the rise and fall of her chest. Had her long journey in the night been in vain? She tiptoed over and sat next to the prone figure. At first T'larin feared the worst, but up close the even rise and fall of the girl's chest was obvious. Her face was pale, but serene and her breathing untroubled.

T'larin leaned close to see if she could smell the girl's breath. Her lips were almost touching the human's when the dream flooded back to her. T'larin started at the memory and the sudden movement caused the girl to stir and her eyes fluttered open. T'larin expected her to be frightened or upset at the close proximity, but she closed her eyes and her soft lips parted, as if awaiting a kiss. Her breath held no taint of poison, it smelled sweet and clean like the Talthas leaves. The girl did not stir again and T'larin quietly rose and went down to join her men.

The evening meal was usually light and conversation brisk. There was usually a great deal of singing and joking, but this evening it was quiet and subdued. There had been no more fighting, but her men reported a force of orcs camped on the other side of the ford. Orcish scouts kept watch on the ford from the concealment of the trees, just as her men watched from her side. After the meal was done talk turned to the orcs.

"We have to get a feel for their numbers. For all we know there could be an army over there," Erstic said.

"Nonsense, we would have heard an army, or smelled their cook fires. You know orcs, they hack and burn anything they can't violate,"

"These orcs are different," Ral observed.

"How so?"

"Well, they are bigger for one thing, stronger and light doesn't seem to bother them as much. They seem to have better control of their destructive natures too. T'larin, do you remember those reports that your father was getting just before we left?"

"Yes," she said thoughtfully "Something about a tribe of evil men in the south living with the orcs of the Forsaken Mountains,"

"Not just living with, interbreeding with. Your father discounted the rumors as being preposterous, but I wonder now if perhaps these orcs aren't the result,"

"It's possible, did anyone see any tribal markings?"

"I did," a gaunt Elf named Welspar said, "I have never seen them before. I don't know much about the lands to the north, but those we killed yesterday were not from either of the Ergos mountain clans,"

"I suppose I could swim the river after dark and do some scouting," Ral said.

"No, one elf across the river was too many. I'll not risk loosing anyone," T'larin said.

"We have to know," the old elf said.

"We will wait for the girl to come around, perhaps she can tell us more,"

There were many nods and a general ascent to her proposal. T'larin had had no thought of information when she went to rescue the girl, but if her men decided it showed her to be shrewd so much the better. She far preferred them to believe that than to question her motives because even she was not sure of them.

The conversation turned to other concerns and by the time someone requested a song from the bard she was nodding. Saying her good nights she departed from the fire and climbed up to check on the girl. She was still asleep, but had kicked off the blanket. The sight of her nude body caused a peculiar feeling of unease in T'larin and she covered the girl again before falling into her bed.

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T'larin woke suddenly in the early hours of dawn. She knew instinctively she was being watched and in the semi darkness she tried to find the observer. The girl was propped up on one elbow staring at her.

"Well, you're awake at last," T'larin said as she sat up. The girl started but then relaxed.

"I think I am, or maybe I'm dead and this is heaven," the girl said. Her voice was soft and raspy with a strong accent.

"I assure you, you aren't dead," T'larin said and chuckled.

"Where is this place? And who are you? And how did I get here?"

"Easy, first things first, how do you feel?"

"My side hurts and my head. I have memories of horrible pain but everything seems to be working," she said as she stretched. The blanket fell off her shoulder and her breasts were exposed. If this bothered her it did not show. T'larin had to concentrate to keep from staring at them. Elves were a slight people and even when pregnant the average elf's breasts would not be so full as the girl's. In the dim light they looked soft and silky and altogether lovely. Unable to understand her fascination T'larin forced her mind back to the problem at hand.

"You were poisoned, that's the pain you remember. I have a lot of questions I need you to answer, do you feel up to it?"

"I asked first," she said in that strangely sensuous voice.

"So you did," T'larin said perhaps a little loudly. She was feeling very strange, "What would you like to know?"

"Lots of things," she said and smiled, "First off, where am I and how did I get here?"

"You are in the Westermark of the Silverwood. As to how you got here, you were carried,"

"I remember the orcs, and the river. They were all around me. I was about to slit my throat when I heard a buzzing noise, like angry bees. And then they were all dead.I saw an angel running out of the woods on the far side of the river towards me. was that you?"

"Yes,"

"Thank you, for saving my life," she said. That wonderful voce was softer and touched with emotion. T'larin, who had stood in the Elven court and heard the greatest bards of the age perform had never heard anything that sounded so wonderful. She could feel her heartbeat in her chest and felt light headed.

"Your welcome," she managed.

"I have never met an Elf before. I always dreamed of it when I was a child. The stories the grown ups told of how beautiful they were. I never thought I would ever see one, much less owe one my life,"

T'larin did not know what to say to that. When the silence became awkward she cleared her throat and asked, "How did you come to be there?"

The girl chuckled, "a game then, very well, you answered my question I will answer yours. I belong to a mercenary regiment, the sisters of blood. We were hired by King Rollos to fight with his troops,"

"King Rollos?"

"He is king of Baslandia which is north and west of the Ergos Mountains. My turn, I remember someone tending my wounds, her touch was soft and gentle and her words like music, was that you too?"

"I tended your wounds, but I don't think my voice is very musical. Perhaps that was delirium,"

"Your turn," the girl said and smiled.

"Look, I don't have time for a game, I really need to know what's going on," T'larin snapped. She felt edgy and flushed and the feelings were growing stronger.

"I think that you are in command here, you have the looks of a leader and I do owe you my life, so I will answer all of your questions that I can, but you must promise me that you will answer all of mine later,"

"I promise, now can you tell me what happened? We could see nothing of the battle but heard the noise,"

"We marched south from Igros ten days ago, a force of ten thousand foot with a thousand mounted knights and a handful of archers. Three days out we gave battle to a huge force of orcs and other evil creatures on the plain of Shureth. They broke easily and we began the pursuit, confident in our coming victory. Too confident. Two days ago we pressed through the high pass of the World's End Mountains and found the orcs waiting for us in the plain below. They were beyond number, like flies on a corpse. We hand only just engaged them when horns sounded and orcs began to stream out of the mountains. In no time we were surrounded. I cannot even begin to describe the slaughter."

The girl seemed lost in her memories and T'larin fought her impatience down and waited until the girl hesitantly began again.

"My sisters and I fought our way free of the trap along with some of the free companions. The rest of the army was slaughtered. The high pass was closed to us so we marched east hoping to reach the safety of the Singing River. The orcs followed us closely and our leaders soon realized these weren't ordinary orcs; they moved by day as well as night and were far more disciplined. Only a small part of the host followed us, the rest must be sweeping through Baslandia as we speak,"

"How many followed you?"

"I can only guess, but they number in the thousands. They caught up with us yesterday and we turned to give battle. I was sent with a small company to try and find out how far we were from the river. I did not see the end of my sisters, but it must have been quick. My company and I were just on the other side of the woods when more orcs ambushed us. These were ordinary orcs, perhaps one of the mountain tribes. We fought hard and it looked like we might win through when we were taken in the rear by the van of that force sent after us. My sword broke on the iron collar one of them wore and I was ridden down by another mounted on a warhorse using a spear as a lance. Several of them were mounted upon horses like men and we were ill prepared for that. I crawled into the woods and heard the river. I was hoping to get a drink for my throat was burning. You know the rest of my tale, better than I do,"

"Yes, much better. You have been unconscious for three days,"

"No one else has made it across the river?"

"My men have seen nothing, save orcs,"

The girl nodded and looked down. When she looked up her eyes were filled with tears. T'larin was usually very aloof, but something touched her and she moved to the girl and wrapped her arms around her. The quiet tears turned to ragged sobs as her emotions overpowered her control. T'larin simply held her, gently stroking her hair as she would a child. The girl held T'larin tightly and cried for several minutes. T'larin could feel the girl's breasts against her own and the softness of her skin. Somehow she had always imagined humans to have rough skin, but the girl's was satiny and warm. When the human regained her composure T'larin sat back.

"Thank you, I...I needed that...I will answer any questions you have now,"

T'larin questioned the girl until well into the morning. There was still much she needed to ask, but the healer in her saw that the girl was in need of rest and so she reluctantly ceased her interrogation and descended the ladder. She was walking away from the tree when she realized she had not even asked the girl's name.

An orcish host on the border was not something to be taken lightly and T'larin spent the whole of the day anxiously awaiting the arrival of the guards. The news that the force on the opposite side of the river numbered in the thousands was shocking, almost unbelievable, but for some reason T'larin did not doubt the girl. Near noon she decided that the information had to reach the king and sent runners to Silverwood to inform them. She expected Aladar would call for the host to be raised against the orcs, regardless of his wishes to stay out of the coming troubles. T'larin fretted and paced, often starting at sounds. Her men would never be able to stem such a tide and her only hope now lay in the arrival of the guard. They came late in the evening; some two hundred strong lead by the dashing Captain Findalus Farseer.

The guards were the shock troops of Silverwood and together with Knights of Corinthia formed the armored core of any sylvan army. T'larin was glad to see them, even if she was less than enthused over their leader. Farseer was a good leader and well loved by his men, but he was vain, arrogant and haughty. He also considered himself to be handsome and charming and was almost as well known for his amorous adventures as his battlefield exploits. He had tried on several occasions to charm his way into her bedchamber, but T'larin disliked him and would have none of it. Unused to being rebuffed he had made his displeasure known and her brother had actually started out from Aslaheim with a few friends to teach him some manners before Aladar had stepped in. It had hurt the dashing captain's pride and vanity to be forced to apologize publicly and T'larin knew better than most that he harbored a deep-seated resentment of her.

Their meeting was as unpleasant as the last time. He seemed determined to minimize her position and take command for himself. As time passed and she refused to bow to him his comments became more snide and barbed. After two full hours of dealing with him and the snide comments she was ready to kill him herself, but Ral stepped in then.

Farseer had just stated that his command and authority exceeded her own and that he was taking command with or without her ascent when she felt Ral move. The old elf said not a word but stared Farseer down while his hand gently caressed the knife that hung at his side. Findalus Farseer was brave to the point of recklessness, but he feared Ral and his face blanched before he looked away. Turning on his heel Farseer strode off ordering his men to the ford without a backwards glance.

"Too long in the company of men," Ral spat.

"What do you mean?"

"He has been too long in the presence of men. His duties carried him to Waterdown for many a year and he has become more like a man than an Elf. There is something about the younger races that can kindle fierce emotion in us if we are not careful," he said and then looked at her meaningfully. T'larin did not look away and merely nodded before she turned and walked back to the fire. There was so much to do and she feared that time was not her ally.

T'larin made the rounds of her defenses before she climbed wearily up to her platform looking forward to her bed. She had barely put her feet down when the girl spoke.

"I don't mean to bother you, but could you answer some of my questions now?"

T'larin nodded and sat down cross-legged in front of the girl. She wanted to go to sleep, but she also wanted to talk to this strange woman.

"What would you like to know?"

"Your name would be a good place to start," she said. The chiding was gentle and unlike the not so subtle barbs flung by Farseer she detected no malice in them.

"I'm sorry, you must think me very rude, my name is T'larin Aviondore, but you may call me Tee. T'larin is rendered in the high speech of the North and some elves have trouble pronouncing it, I am sure for you it would be an even greater challenge,"

"My name is Tess," she said quietly.

"Well met, Tess,"

"Are you the leader of these elves? I have watched you all day and you seem to be in command,"

"I am Marcher Lord, I guess that puts me in command. In reality we are not as rigid as humans, most of the rangers follow me because they choose to. Only the troops you saw arrive this evening have a real commander,"

"The tall elf. I did not understand the words, but he made me angry,"

"Angry?"

"He was being mean to you, at least. at least it seemed like he was to me,"

"And that angered you?"

"Yes,"

T'larin laughed for the first time in two days and really meant it. She was not sure why, but the fact that Farseer's treatment of her angered Tess made her feel good inside.

"Tell me about yourself," Tess said after T'larin had recovered herself.

"Well, you know my name. I was born in Aslaheim in the far north. My father is king there and I grew up in the palace. When I reached maturity I traveled to the other elvish realms and acted as ambassador for my father. I stopped here in Silverwood long ago and found I loved the woods more than the mountains or the sea. I gave up being ambassador and told my father I wanted to stay here which did not please him. I learned the bow and the arts of healing and traveled with the rangers helping the forest. Last year King Aladar asked me to become marcher Lord and I accepted. So here I am,"

"You aren't married then?" Tess asked. The question caught T'larin a little off guard and the expression on her new friend's face was also puzzling. It was hopeful, like a child at gift giving time. T'larin was usually very guarded in giving out information about herself, but she answered before she thought.

"No, I have yet to meet anyone I would give my heart to,"

Tess tried not to smile, but T'larin caught a satisfied little grin before the girl could look away.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be," T'larin said. She was confused by Tess's reaction and by the question, but decided it was only her weariness and let it go without further comment.

The questions continued to come, and T'larin found herself answering them even though she was not used to revealing so much about herself. Tess's curiosity about her seemed boundless and T'larin found that she rather enjoyed the attention. She had always thought of herself s a solitary creature, but the evening of questions and laughter made her realize that she was lonely. This girl put her at ease and she almost happily let her guard down. She was reluctant to put an end to it, but she had to get some sleep, tomorrow would be a dangerous day for her to be less than her sharpest. So she bid the girl to rest and crawled into her bed falling asleep almost instantly.

=============================

T'larin was instantly awake. She held perfectly still and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. She was sure it was a sound that had awakened her, but she could not remember what sound. It came again, a soft moan, unlike anything she had ever heard before. She immediately assumed Tess was having difficulties and rolled over to go and see if she could help, but the sight that greeted her froze her in place. Tess was lying on her back and had kicked off her blanket. Her left arm was cradled across her chest and her palm was spread wide over her right breast. As T'larin watched the girl's hand rhythmically flexed, deeply massaging her breast. Her eyes were tightly shut and she was chewing on her lower lip as her body spasmed.

T'larin's eyes traveled slowly down the girl's body. Her soft skin seemed to glow in the weak firelight and was covered in a sheen of sweat. Her legs were spread, but her hand covered her pussy. All T'larin could see was her hand rubbing in a slow circular motion. As T'larin watched the girl's hands began to work faster and a series of tiny sounds escaped her lips. Her feet drew up and once planted on the platform her pelvis began to rock. T'larin wanted to turn her head, but she was riveted, like a bird staring onto the eyes of a snake she couldn't move a muscle.

Tess's hand circled faster and faster and T'larin could almost feel the tension building. She saw Tess's stomach muscles begin to heave and knot as her pelvis pressed upwards and fell back to the matt. Her body seemed to quiver with energy and as she rocked her breasts bounced gently on her chest.

Both of the girl's hands were between her widely splayed thighs now. T'larin would never know how long she sat and watched, but after a time the girl's motions became frenetic and she tensed suddenly. Her body went rigid and only her feet and shoulder blades were touching the platform as he back arched upwards.

A series of breathless ejaculations began to flow from her mouth, "Oohhh...Ahh...Uhha...uhhha...please..Please...Oh god!" With this final exclamation her body began to twist and contort. T'larin was not sure what had happened, but she knew instinctively that the girl had reached her goal. Tess rolled over onto her side and curled up hugging her legs to her breast and a long sigh escaped her lips.

T'larin eased herself back down onto her back and closed her eyes. Her nipples were hard and she could feel wetness between her legs. She was excited, repulsed, confused, and titillated all at once. She fought to keep her own hand from easing down her body and mimicking the girl's.

Tess was still basking in the glow of her orgasm and her next utterance almost caused the elf woman to give away the fact that she was not asleep.

"Mmmm God, T'larin..." she cooed. It took her a few moments to even realize the girl had pronounced her name correctly. The question of why her name, in that context would not leave her mind. T'larin closed her eyes and tried to relax, but sleep was long in coming.

=========================================

The next morning T'larin rose early and tiptoed across the platform in order to keep from waking Tess. She had barely reached the ground when a runner came up with news that the orcs seemed to be massing for an attack. T'larin sounded her silver horn and grabbed her bow. As she rushed out of camp she caught a glimpse of Tess staring at her from the edge of the platform.

She reached the ford with the rest of her men just as the first wave of Orcs broke from the trees and wildly charged. A withering hail of arrows met them, leaving most of them down before they reached the water's edge. Those few that reached the river were feathered before they could reach mid stream. All was quiet for a few minutes and then with a whoop another wave of orcs burst out of the woods. For hours it went on, runners brought up whole bundles of arrows and archers joined her sporadically through the day as the rangers she had called the night before began to arrive. They came none to soon for like the inexorable rise of the ocean each wave of orcs got a little closer. There were hundreds down and only the gods knew how many hundreds more had been washed down stream in the strong current. Yet, still they came showing no fear of arrows or sunlight.

For all the attacks not a single Elf had been so much as scratched. It appeared the orcs had no archers with them or if they did they did not have the range to shoot from the concealment of the woods to where her men were gathered. In the late afternoon the attacks stopped and a strange quiet descended. T'larin leaned heavily on her bow and shook the sweat from her eyes. Ral moved close and sat down, the old elf seemed tired but she knew he would be the last of them all to falter.

"They seem to have stopped," T'larin ventured at last.

"They have taken our measure," he said flatly.

"What do you mean?"

"This wasn't an attack my Captain. They were not seriously trying to ford the river today. This was just to see what our numbers were and what our range was. Tomorrow they will come for real, after a night of drinking and whipping themselves into a frenzy,"

"You can't be serious Ral, their losses were staggering"

"Aye, as staggering as the number of ants who die taking down a field mouse. They do it with numbers girl, that's where their strength lies. They just wear an opponent down with sheer numbers. If they had succeeded in killing one of us today they would have been ecstatic. It would have been a light price to pay for a dead archer,"

As the words sunk in T'larin's head began to spin. She realized that what he said was true. She could not imagine another day of this, they had already reached the near bank and if that was just a probe of her forces.

The last attack came at dusk and it was the most powerful yet. Orcs reached the near bank and some even reached the tree line before being felled by the guard. As she trudged back towards camp she faced a tough decision. Her march had already served its purpose. Silverwood had been alerted and she had bought them enough time to begin marshaling the elvish host. If she abandoned the river and stole away during the night many of her men would be saved. On the other hand every minute she stood was precious time to get the far-flung families behind the Singing River and get the defenses built up. There was also the girl to consider, it was unlikely that she would be allowed into Silverwood proper even with T'larin speaking for her. She was too weak to make the long march to Queen's Ford on her own and T'larin felt responsible for her. At least that's what she told herself.

Her mind was sluggish and she realized the sleepless night had done her no good. She needed to rest, to rest and to think. She dully answered a few questions from runners before ascending to her home. She barely had time to get to her bed and collapse before a runner came in from Silverwood and she was called back to the forest floor. Tess gave her a worried look as she climbed down and T'larin forced a smile for the girl's benefit before climbing down.

"Mi Lady T'larin?"

"Yes,"

"The king sends his thanks. The muster of the Silverwood has begun, but we need more time. His Majesty asks how long you think you can hold here."

"Tell his majesty we will hold as long as we can, but he must not count upon us holding through the morrow,"

"That is ill news."

"The orcish host is beyond count. Such a gathering has not been seen since the host of Kalouth was crushed. You will have to trust to the mercies of the Nero'Larta for more time, burn the bridges when you return,"

"Lalean protect us. If we burn the bridges how will your men get back?"

"We aren't coming back," she said flatly.

He looked at her sadly and bowed. Then backed away and turned to begin the longest run of his life. T'larin looked to Ral who, as ever stood nearby.

"Tell the rangers and Farseer. Any who wish to return had best begin now. If we fail to hold tomorrow the orcs will travel swiftly and overtake all in their path,"

Ral smiled, "All is not lost Mi Lady. The old prophecies foretell that no orcish host will ever prevail as long as one of the line of Aviondore still wields Angrost,"

She smiled and touched the blade at her hip. She felt renewed and full of energy suddenly, but the feeling faded when she removed her hand from the well-worn hilt.

"The prophecies are inscrutable and I have never placed my faith in them,"

"Nay, you have grown in wisdom since you were a child, but you have never taken them to heart. Yet, none have ever failed to predict the future. The seer's of old saw far and were never deceived,"

"Yet ever do they speak in riddles. Always the prophecies fulfill themselves in a manner unlooked for. Even so, the prophecies also foretell that Angrost will end the line. Perhaps on the morrow I shall be forced to fall on that blade rather than be dishonored,"

"Would that I could foretell what the morrow would bring, but I can not. I can only say that we shall fight and if we should fall, it will be a tale long remembered in song,"

"Yes, our passing will at least earn us a place in the Leys if any are left to sing them," She said before turning and wearily climbing back up.

Once she reached the platform she collapsed on the bed. Tess came up and sat on the bed next to her. The human girl wore her red stockings and one of T'larin's old shirts. It was stretched ridiculously tight over her chest and the Elf could easily make out the girl's stiff nipples.

She caught herself staring and felt a blush rise to her cheeks. The girl smiled down at her and then brushed a strand of blonde hair from T'larin's face.

"You look like you could use a bath," Tess said.

"Aye, and a few days of sleep. But I will get neither I fear,"

"Was it that bad?"

"I fear I have saved you from taking your life only to doom you to having to do it again. Were that you were an elf, I would have already sent you back to Silverwood, but you are human and the warders will not allow you to cross the Nero'Larta,"

"Enough of these dark thoughts, I will get you some mead and prepare a bath for you," Tess said quietly. Her voice was soft, but there was something in it, a kind of breathless expectation. T'larin's mind was so dulled she did not catch it, however.

T'larin started to protest but Tess placed a finger over her lips. The contact was electric and T'larin felt her stomach lurch. She thought of protesting farther but she was so tired and it felt good to be babied on occasion, even at her age. The mead was cold and T'larin drank it quickly. She had not had any water through the long hot day and by the bottom of the second glass it was beginning to affect her. She watched as Tess heated water over the cook fire and poured it into the brass tub that she considered her one luxury. It had been made in Waterdown by a dwarven smith who was down on his luck and transported by flatboat to the ford where several volunteers offloaded it and manage to get it to her platform.

Tess brought her another goblet of mead and handed it to her. T'larin started to put it down without taking a sip, but then she though, why not? It may be the last chance I get to enjoy it. She did not notice the sly look Tess gave her as she savored the sweet mead.

Tess came over and caught one of T'larin's boots in her hand. She had to tug at it several times before it finally came free. The second boot was even harder to get off, T'larin had turned her ankle somewhere in the previous days fight and it was still swollen enough to make it hard to remove the boot. It finally came free and T'larin wiggled her toes enjoying the freedom. Tess caught T'larin's arm and pulled her up to a sitting position.

"Your bath awaits," she said with a smile. T'larin studied her companion carefully. There was an air of expectancy about her, a mingling of hope and doubt was written on her pretty features.

"And where are you going while I bathe?" T'larin asked. The question was not a difficult one, but you could not tell that by studying Tess's features. She seemed to be fighting a struggle within herself before she finally screwed up her courage and replied.

"I am not going anywhere,"

"No one has seen me unclothed in more than two hundred years," T'larin said. Tess seemed to have a hard time believing it; it took her a few moments to remember that she was in the presence of an Elf.

"I find that...hard to believe,"

"Tess, I have watched the world for over a thousand of your years, when I was born your tribe was not even begun yet,"

"I did not doubt you because of the years, all know that elves are immortal, at least practically immortal. I just cannot believe that someone as beautiful as you has not had many lovers," Tess said. She seemed to be in earnest and T'larin found the tables turned. Now she was not sure what to say. Perhaps it was the mead, or perhaps being so near a human had begun to kindle in her some of the recklessness of this younger more passionate race as Ral had warned her. Whatver the cause her next question shocked her.

"Have you had many? Lovers I mean," T'larin asked.

"I had many lovers in the sisters of blood," Tess said simply. When T'larin did not respond the girl went on, "The sisterhood was more than just a military formation T'larin, it was a family. Our ranks were filled with women who had been brutalized, or ostracized from their towns and villages. The sisterhood provided us all with a family and a safe haven. It is true that some of them still took male lovers, but most of us loved only among our group,"

T'larin sat quietly and tried to think this through. Human society was so different from her own. Love between elves took decades to grow and the actual act was rare even among married couples. Most of course took lovers through the long ages and some, like Captain Farseer took many, but they were the exceptions. T'larin had never contemplated love between two women, at least not until she met this girl. The more she thought about it the more excited she felt herself become. How did two women consummate their love? Her experience with males was very limited and she had not found the act to be enjoyable.

Tess seemed to take her silence as disapproval and she sighed deeply. "I'm sorry," she said at last. He voice pulled T'larin's mind from her contemplations.

"Sorry for what?"

"For telling you that. I am used to scorn and hate, I had just dared to hope..." she broke off her words and almost ran to the ladder. She was gone before T'larin could find words to voice what she felt. T'larin started to call out to her, but decided against it. Instead she called down to the elf that was baring the girl's way with drawn sword that it was all right and she was free to go where she wished.

T'larin was unsure of her feelings and did not know what she should say, she needed time to think. Shaking her head she quickly disrobed and eased into the hot water. As ever the water seemed to wash her cares away and she began to consider everything as she sipped her mead and soaked.

============================

T'larin lay on her bed with her head resting on her hands. She was wide-awake and filled with a nameless energy that she could not explain, even to herself. She heard the ladder creak as someone slowly climbed up. Tess quietly moved to the edge of the hearthstone and stared into the glowing embers.

T'larin had used the time to think and work through all that she felt and all that she knew. While the feelings were new and strange they were also wondrous and she was at peace. Even then, she found it hard to speak.

"Where have you been Tess?"

"I was with Ral. He is a very strange man..I mean Elf. He has told me much about you. About all you did to save my life. I should have been even more grateful to you if I had known. Perhaps I would not have told you of my past as readily if I had known all that I do now. I knew that the elves were haughty and proud, but I did not know how little they think of us. You have risked much in sheltering me."

"Would being less than honest have shown me more gratitude?"

"No. I cannot hide my feelings for you. Knowing that tomorrow may be the last sunrise I see does not make it any less,"

"Tess?" T'larin said as she sat up on the bed.

"Yes?" the girl said without turning around.

"Will you show me?"

"Show you what?" the girl said now turning to face T'larin. T'larin took a deep breath, "will you show me how one woman consummates her love for another?"

In the soft firelight her face was a study in contrasts, hope, fear, confusion, all written on her pretty features as easily readable to T'larin as any book in her father's library. She started to speak, but no words came. She swallowed hard and tried again, "T'larin."

"Don't speak. You have kindled in me a burning desire like nothing I have ever known. We elves move slowly in matters of the heart. I think with your kind this is not so. I did not mean to make you feel.unwanted. I have known you for such a short time I found it hard to believe you had feelings for me. After thinking things through I realize I have feelings for you. How this is I cannot say, but I know it in my heart to be true. If you are still willing. I would learn about human passion,"

Tess squealed in delight and jumped up throwing herself onto T'larin's lap and riding the slight woman down onto the bed while squeezing tightly. T'larin fought down the impulse to try and throw the girl off. She had asked for a lesson in human passion and she realized she was about to get it. She smiled and wondered if she would survive it.

Tess released her hold and pushed herself up on her elbows, she smiled down on T'larin.

"Your first lesson is when I hug, you hug back," she said and smiled. T'larin must have looked perplexed because Tess sighed deeply and rolled off of her.

"Did I do something wrong?" T'larin asked.

"No, no of course not. It's just that. well; I am not sure what to do with you. It's true I have had many lovers, but they were always more experienced than me and they initiated everything. Now I am the one with the experience, but I have never been around Elves and I don't know anything about them,"

T'larin smiled and reached out to touch Tess's hand, "Then we shall learn together,"

Tess smiled back and brought T'larin's hand to her lips. She gently kissed the Elf's palm and then sucked a finger into her mouth. Tess pursed her lips and sucked while rolling her tongue over T'larin's finger. T'larin had never felt anything like it, so soft, so sensuous; she felt a tightening in her pelvis and her nipples hardening. Tess took the whole finger in her mouth and then slowly pulled off, sliding her lips along the whole length of it. A shudder passed through T'larin's body as the tip slipped out of her mouth.

"Well, you seemed to like that,"

"Mmm, yes...I don't know what to say, the feelings are... strange,"

"Don't say anything, just relax and enjoy. If something doesn't feel good, or if this gets to be uncomfortable for you tell me. I won't lie to you, I have never wanted anyone like I want you and I tend to get. very enthusiastic when making love. You have to tell me if I am going to far or too fast,"

T'larin nodded and watched Tess closely. The girl's green eyes were sparkling and traveling over every curve of T'larin's body. Men had looked at her like that before, with the same hunger, but always it had repulsed her. Now, the feelings were not of revulsion but excitement and a growing need for something, yet she knew not what. Tess moved closer to T'larin and held her shoulders back, forcing her breasts outward.

"I have seen how you stare at them, would you like a closer look?"

T'larin's mouth was suddenly dry and she felt very foolish. She could not find her voice and in the end nodded silently. The heavy linen of the shirt Tess wore was straining to hold her breasts captive and T'larin reached out hesitantly. Tess was watching her and when T'larin started to withdraw her hand Tess caught her wrist and pulled it to her chest. The breast was firm yet soft, deliciously yielding yet wonderfully resilient. T'larin squeezed gently and was rewarded by a long sigh from Tess.

As T'larin's hand continued to explore she felt the nipple hardening under her palm. Her other hand moved to Tess's chest and she cupped the girls breasts, feeling their weight and the gentle rise and fall of them as Tess breathed. Tess's hands had been busy unlacing the shirt at the throat and wrists. She looked at T'larin and smiled. The rapt expression on the elf woman's face was something to behold. Watching T'larin closely she grasped the hem of the shirt and pulled it over her head. T'larin's eyes became huge and took on a luminous quality, but she jerked her hands back as if she had been burned.

Tess pursed her lips and wondered what to do next. T'larin was so strange, seemingly eager one second and lost in thought the next. She was already very excited and she was fighting the impulse to just throw herself onto T'larin and rip her clothes off. Tess had never felt such an all- consuming desire. She had been told many times of the haunting beauty of the elves, but had never believed the stories. Now she was totally enchanted with T'larin. She felt clumsy and awkward compared to the elf's grace and next to T'larin's delicate form she felt almost oafish and clumsy.

She was still amazed that this was happening and she desperately wanted it to go farther, but she could not decide what to do next. She looked at T'larin once again and decided she would take a more direct approach. She pulled her boots off and then stood up and hooked her fingers into the waist of her stockings. The elf was staring at her with her head cocked to one side.

"Here goes," she though as she slid the stockings down and stepped out of them.

T'larin's eyes were glued to her crotch and Tess felt the familiar tingle in her loins. The elf woman reached out tentatively and stroked her pubic hair with touches so soft they were a torture. Tess had been naked before many women, she had seen looks that ranged from hunger to just interest, but she had never seen anyone look so fascinated. If she did not know better she would think T'larin was in a trance.

T'larin felt the luxurious down under her fingers, she remembered when she first saw Tess's pubes and how she had wanted to touch them even then. She continued to gently stroke, unaware of the feelings she was producing in the girl. After a short while T'larin became aware of a dampness and her fingers were slick. She pulled her hand back, which caused the girl to groan softly. T'larin held four fingers together and moved her thumb slowly up and down while marveling at how easily her thumb slide along the other fingers. She brought her fingers to her nose and inhaled deeply. The aroma was overwhelming, a strong, clean musk that sent her head spinning.

Tess's legs were quivering, she had almost cum from T'larin's gentle stroking. She reached down and caught the Elf's shirt and whisked it over her head before T'larin could even protest. Tess had always assumed T'larin was extremely fair skinned, but what greeted her eyes was even more delightful and intriguing. T'larin's breasts were small and pert with very large nipples, but instead of the pink or brown Tess expected they were a very striking blue. The skin was flawless and looked silky smooth but only now in the soft light of the fire did Tess really appreciate the pale blue tint. She could not tear her eyes away from those nipples though. The aureoles were rough and puckered, showing T'larin's excitement, but that color was beyond fascinating, a deep hue of blue that she could not describe.

Her mind made the leap to wondering what color she would find when she got T'larin's stockings off. Her hands seemed to have reached that decision before her mind. She placed her hands on T'larin's shoulders and gently pushed her back. Catching T'larin's impossibly long legs she lifted them onto her shoulders and them curled her fingers into the waist of T'larin's stockings. T'larin murmured some protest but Tess was beyond hearing it. She pulled the stockings over T'larin's slim hips and down her legs.

If T'larin has been fascinated with Tess's pussy, the human was equally as entranced with the elf's. T'larin's pussy was as bare as a babes and her mound was very prominent. Again the shape was right, but the color was simply divine. From the almost translucent blue of her skin the color darkened on her mound to something like a robin's egg. The lips were a darker shade of blue and Tess fought the impulse to pry them apart and see what color the inner folds were. T'larin was still staring at Tess's mound and it gave the human an idea.

"It seems we both have found something that has caught our interest," she began in a husky whisper, "if you are willing I know a way we can both investigate at once,"

T'larin nodded but said not a word; it was as if the sight of Tess's body unclothed had struck her mute. Tess felt her heart hammering in her chest as she helped T'larin recline on the bed. Now for the part she was worried about. She had planned on some time just cuddling and touching, but the fire in her loins was raging out of control now. This was a bit advanced for a beginner, but Tess wanted it too much to restrain herself. She quickly threw a leg over T'larin's body and rolled on top of the elf. Her knees came to rest just touching T'larin's shoulders and her elbows were on either side of the elf's slim hips. Her arms curled under and then gently parted T'larin's thighs.

T'larin found her face only inches from the girl's pussy which was suspended over her face. T'larin's finely tuned senses were almost the death of her. First there was that intoxicating aroma, her head began to swim from the intensity of it. Strong, musky, demanding, she felt her chest constricting and her breathing became labored. If that wasn't enough there was also the sight of it, up close she cold see each single hair that made up Tess's public triangle. The delicate pink lips were pouting and revealed a glimpse of the darker inner folds. These were a deep pink, almost red, but subtly less than red. Also there was a thin white liquid, which gave a pearly appearance to any part of her it clung to.

Tess had no idea what T'larin was thinking and it really did not even impress itself upon her thoughts. Her entire mind was focused on the delicate flower before her eyes. T'larin's thighs were as smooth as the finest silk and as soft as the best down blanket. Her mound was fat and fleshy, but seemed totally in proportion to her thighs. Her outer lips were beautifully formed and a soft blue that Tess could only equate to a robin's egg. Tess could not detect any odor or see any signs that T'larin was excited. Rather than being put out this only served to make her want to bring this woman to ecstasy all the more.

T'larin was still trying to control her breathing when she felt Tess's fingers gently pry her lips apart. She could feel the girl's fingertips massaging her most secret place and it sent electric jolts through her body. Those jolts turned to white-hot fire when the fingers were replaced by Tess's soft warm tongue. T'larin gasped at the change in texture and pressure. That incredible organ slipped along her outer lips, making slow unhurried circuits. T'larin began to squirm, but the girl's arms held her firmly in place. When that soft tongue burrowed between her lips to caress her inner folds T'larin moaned.

As Tess's tongue forced its way between T'larin's lips she realized why she had seen no outward signs of arousal. T'larin's body produced no odor at all except for a faint hint of honeysuckle. Tess would never in her life ever find words to describe the taste of T'larin's juices. It was like a drink from a cold mountain stream, clean and refreshing. Only when she took the time to savor it did she taste the very subtle undertone of a sweetness that was far greater than honey. T'larin's juices also produced a peculiar tingling sensation in her mouth, a tingling that seemed to create a hunger for more. No longer content to just tease Tess flattened her tongue and worked it hard against T'larin's slit, scooping up all of the sweetness she found there. She lapped at it like a cat and the harder she lapped the more she found. Moving down to the entrance to T'larin's channel she found more and slowly the taste began to change. The more excited the elf became the sweeter her juices became and soon Tess found the taste almost unbearably wonderful. She wondered fleetingly if anything would ever taste sweet again.

T'larin was not sure if she was in heaven or hell. The intense feelings of pleasure bombarded her mind, shaking her being to its very core. Centuries of barriers and internal defenses crumbled under the gentle assault like chaff before the west wind. Deep inside the spark that burned so slowly in Elves ignited into a fire that was all consuming. A lifetime of false assumptions, deeply ingrained prejudices and social mores melted in that flame, leaving only the essence of the woman. In that crystal clear moment, the essence of that woman wanted only to give and take pleasure from the woman who lay on top of her.

T'larin cried out with a sound that was musically clear and piercing, but utterly unlike anything Tess had ever heard before. She stopped what she was doing and started to turn her head to see if she had done something wrong, but she felt T'larin's arms go around her waist and pull her down until her pussy was nestled on the elf's face. Reassured that it was pleasure and not pain she redoubled her attack on T'larin's swollen sex.

T'larin was lost now in a world that was all Tess. The feel of her skin on T'larin's, the weight of her body and the soft breasts on her tummy coupled with the intoxicating aroma of her excitement and now the unbelievable taste. It was powerful, a musky overtone with both sweet and salt undertones. Stronger than the headiest wine from her father's cellars it filled her mouth and sent her delicate taste buds reeling. Tess was very wet and soon T'larin's lips and tongue were coated in her juices. The elf licked frantically trying to get more. She was not working on a conscious level any longer and was making no attempt to find the places that felt good to her lover. She simply had to have more and each taste merely increased her thirst rather than slaking it.

Tess laughed outloud in her happiness. She could feel T'larin's tongue working on her, and the urgency was plain if technique were lacking. She forced down the rising tide of her own excitement, tried to ignore the feelings from her own soaked pussy and concentrated now on driving T'larin mad. Prying the elf's lips apart Tess began to lave her swollen clit, first with long broad strokes of her tongue, then with feather soft caresses. She varied tempo, pressure and angle always staying ahead of the elf's ability to adjust. T'larin's hips were gyrating now, bucking and rocking, but Tess held on tightly to her thighs and continued the assault. When she felt that the time was right she worked a finger into the tight channel and began to forcefully drive it in and out. T'larin was very tight, but the inside was slippery and smooth. Compared to T'larin her other lovers had been coarse and abrasive. The elf's delicate body and slight frame made her very tight and Tess wondered if she could even work a second finger in without causing pain.

Pleasure assailed T'larin's sanity in red waves that rose ever higher. Muscles that she was barely aware she had spasmed deep inside her body. She could not control the rhythmic clenching and relaxing, nor could she hope to contain the tension that was building. The finger driving in and out of her seemed to fill her more than any male she had ever known. The tongue was working on a spot she hardly knew existed before this hour, a spot that seemed to be connected directly to her spine. Each flick of Tess's tongue caused a spasm now, each caress sent a new wave crashing into T'larin's overloaded brain. Her body was rigid and she felt certain she would die if she did not put a stop to it, but she was powerless to resist the onslaught.

When she had reached the end of her rope, when it felt so good she felt certain she would die with another caress, something happened that she was altogether unprepared for. A shock ran through her, starting in her enflamed pussy and spreading through her body. It brought with it euphoric pleasure and a delicious rippling sensation. In it's wake she felt her body relax, but only for a split second before another wave tore through her. She gasped for air like a fish out of water as the waves, some weaker, some stronger ripped though her slight frame. The pleasure was unbearable and with the next powerful contraction she fell into a black abyss.

T'larin returned to the world of the living to feel her shoulders being shaken. Tess's face was above her, tear streaked and frantic.

"Oh my God, Oh my god, Oh my god," she repeated. T'larin smiled and tried to speak, to reassure her, but her tongue seemed cloven to her palate and at first no words came. Rippling echoes of the pleasure she had felt still ran through her body and it was only with great effort that she gathered herself and spoke.

"I'm all right, Tess,"

"T'larin! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"Don't be sorry," T'larin said with an effort, her mind still absorbing what had happened.

"I never," the girl began again but T'larin brought a finger to her lips and silenced her.

"I never either." she began, then shook her head to clear it, "I mean I have never experienced anything like that,"

"Are you all right?" the girl asked, fear still showing in her eyes.

"All right? I am better than that, better than I have ever been. I asked for a lesson in human passion and you gave it to me,"

Tess smiled radiantly and her eyes sparkled, "And what did you think of it?"

"I think I will have to try it again before I can form a judgment," she said gravely. When the girls face fell T'larin laughed lightly, "Several times," she added as her own eyes sparkled with mirth.

============================================

T'larin awoke to the sound of the wind in the leaves. She felt deliciously relaxed, refreshed and content. Tess was lying on her side with one arm thrown over T'larin's hip and her body pressed close. T'larin could feel her lover's breasts pressed against her back. She wished she had time to initiate another round of sex, but she knew that this brief interlude was over. Rising carefully she opened the old wooden chest at the foot of her bed and began to remove her armor. Each piece was wrapped in oilcloth for it had been many years since she had donned it.

The suit consisted of a breastplate, chain shirt, bracers, grieves and a gorget. The chain shirt extended well past her hips and provided protection for her groin and upper thighs. She donned her stockings and boots and began to fasten the multitude of buckles on the grieves. They covered her lower legs from above her knee to just above her ankles. Once in place she stood and was preparing to pull on a chemise when she felt a pair of soft arms slide around her waist. T'larin was startled but leaned back into the embrace. Tess's warm lips found her neck and began to nibble.

She felt the excitement curling in her loins and sighed deeply. Tess's hands began to gently massage the area to either side of T'larin's mound.

"Tess, don't. I have to get ready," T'larin, protested half- heartedly. Tess picked her up and carried her back to the bed. She dumped the struggling Elf on the bed and placed her hands inside of T'larin's knees. T'larin felt the slight pressure and her knees parted like magic. As she watched the mop of red hair descend to the vee of her thighs she thought about saying something.

Any words were drowned in a soft moan as Tess's tongue slipped between her lips. T'larin relaxed under her lover's touch, the war could wait a few minutes longer.

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T'larin stood behind the rough barrier of logs and sharpened stakes her men had erected just within the tree line. Ral sat near her with his back to the hastily erected bulwark sticking arrows into the ground. Tess stood to her left and slightly behind her dressed in her red armor. She had borrowed a sword from someone, but had no bow. She was treated with deference by the elves, a fact that was not lost on T'larin. The rangers were a slightly different breed than the rest of elven society. They accepted their Commander's new lover with nothing more than a few sly smiles and one or two congratulations. Even Ral seemed pleased with her lover and she wondered what the old elf had told Tess while T'larin had bathed.

Only Farseer and his guard were offended by the choice T'larin had made. She found she did not really care, she was happy and staring into the face of certain doom she was glad of the few moments of bliss she had managed to snatch. She smiled at Tess who seemed rather confused by the sudden change in her status. The redhead smiled back at her and T'larin was almost able to forget the ravening horde across the river.

T'larin's battle plan centered on the ford. It was only wide enough for six men to cross abreast. She planned on letting the orcs reach the river rather than shooting them as soon as they emerged from the trees. Those who chose to try and swim for her side would be left unhindered until they climbed up the bank. Three quarters of her rangers would pour their fire into the area around the ford while the other third would pick off any swimmers that managed to make it. It was her hope to build a mound of dead at the ford entrance, which would further hinder their efforts. During the night her men had driven sharpened stakes into the ground on her side of the ford angled towards the orcs. The orcs would have to get past those before they could come up against the makeshift palisade. Once there Farseer's guards, in their heavy armor would engage them.

She held out slim hope of surviving. The defense was calculated to inflict the most damage and take the orcs the longest time to break. She did not have long to wait and consider her preparations. A grisly shrieking howl went up from the woods on the other side of the river and the orcs charged. The front ranks carried heavy wooden shields that would protect them from arrows. The lack of fire from her side seemed to confuse the orcs. The charge slowed as they neared the river. It was only when several orcs were in the muddy area before the ford that the first blast of arrows tore into them. A howl of rage went up and they surged forward. As she had hoped bodies began to pile up forcing those who pressed in from behind to try and climb over them. This in turn built the wall of dead ever higher. Hundreds waded into the cold waters, but they did not know the river as she did. On either side of the ford the channel was over forty hands deep. It fell off steeply and those who went under seldom came back up for the water was cold and the weight of their weapons and armor dragged them down.

For much of the morning it went on with the orcs never gaining the ford. T'larin's plan was working, but it could not go on forever. Already her archers were having to draw on the last reserves of arrows. Sometime after noon the last arrows were fired and the elves cast their bows away and drew their knives. Farseer's guard moved to the palisade and waited in silence. It took the orcs a little time to realize that there was no more fire coming from the far side, but once they did they charged with renewed fury. They gained the bank and charged headlong into the woods only to be brought up short by the palisade.

The outnumbered defenders fought on with dogged tenacity. Angrost glittered cold and deadly, weaving a red swath of death around T'larin that was so intimidating she suddenly found herself standing alone amidst the chaos. No orc seemed to have the courage to face her and the blade of her forefathers.

She saw that Farseer was fighting with his men and still holding the orcs at bay on the northern end of the palisade, but already they had swarmed over the defenders closer to the center. Ral and three companions held an angle in the bulwark and no orc seemed to be able to overcome their flashing swords. On the southern end of the bulwark the rangers held them back with pikes made from living wood.

From out of the river T'larin saw the largest orc she had ever seen emerge. He was hulking and battle scared, wearing stolen pieces of a knight's armor and carrying a battle-axe that had to be as large as T'larin. This had to be the warlord and T'larin saw one last chance to save the day. Even as she thought this, the big orc spotted her and her hated blade and charged while bellowing a challenge.

Orcs were clannish and very superstitious. The death of the warlord would make them all draw back. The shamans would have to perform rituals and a new Warlord would have to prove himself in trials of combat. Often the death of a warlord signaled the end of an orcish offensive. If no strong leader emerged the different clans would simply go home leaving the horde vastly weakened.

T'larin moved to meet the brute holding Angrost aloft. When they met T'larin swung Angrost with all her strength, but even that fabled blade could not find the orc's flesh behind the stout armor. Unchecked he plowed into T'larin, knocking her back several feet. The great axe had opened a furrow in her head and blood ran into her eyes. She had lost her grip on Angrost and was lying on her back, totally defenseless when she saw him standing over her through the red haze.

She saw the massive axe descending and said a final prayer. T'larin saw a flash of red and the great orc howled in pain. His blow was thrown off and the axe buried itself to the post in the ground inches from her head. T'larin rolled over and sought frantically for her blade. Her hand closed upon the hilt and she staggered to her feet. She shook her head viciously to clear her eyes of blood and sought her opponent.

She found him in her field of vision, but several yards away. Tess stood before him trying vainly to parry the giant axe. Her blade shattered and she was tossed aside like a rag doll. T'larin could not tell how badly injured she was or if she yet lived. She screamed when the big Orc raised his axe for the killing blow. She could never close the distance before it fell and Tess was not moving. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, unable to watch her lover killed and too far to do anything about it T'larin acted in desperation. She drew back her arm and with all her strength hurled her sword at the giant orc, a prayer upon her lips.

Angrost was a long sword. It was never meant to be thrown. Yet who could say what enchantments the elven smiths laid upon it as they labored? Perhaps the great smith foresaw the day when it would have to serve as a missile. Perhaps LaLean heard her servant's final desperate prayer and guided the blade with her own hand. Whatever the reason, enchantment, divine intervention or the capricious will of fate the great blade struck home in the one spot where the orc had no armor. The blade may not have been made to throw, but it was made to cleave orc flesh and it did just that, tearing through bone and sinew like a hot knife through butter. It pierced all the way through the Orc's neck, nearly decapitating him.

The orcs, after seeing their leader felled, faded away without striking another blow and the exhausted defenders could not even manage a cheer. T'larin did not care, she staggered and fell, then crawled to her love. She rolled the girl over and frantically tried to wake her. Tears mixed with the blood in her eyes and stung her, but all the pain was lost in a flood of relief when Tess's eyes fluttered open. T'larin gathered her into her arms and rained kisses on her face until Tess managed to get her arms around her lover and hold her tightly. Their lips met then and their tongues twined. The kiss was deep and passionate and neither seemed to care who was watching.

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A week had passed since the battle at the ford. T'larin was still limping from the battering she had taken, but the running joke among the rangers was that she was walking that way because her new lover kept her worn out. T'larin smiled and nodded, playing along with them, but in fact she and Tess had not more than kissed since that day. The redhead had been so bruised that even the gentle ministrations of T'larin the healer made her wince. T'larin was afraid to even touch her as a lover.

On this morning T'larin woke to find Tess caressing her breasts. Her nipples were hard buttons and ached to be touched. Tess saw her eyes come open and without a word pounced on T'larin.

"Stop! You are in no condition to... Ohhh" T'larin groaned as the red head's mouth found one of her aching nipples. In an instant Tess's long tongue began to worry it.

Even as she enjoyed the sensations of Tess's pink tongue on her nipple she could see the young woman was still in great pain. T'larin willed herself to take Tess by the shoulders and gently force her to lie back. The girl gritted her teeth in pain and then relaxed with and exasperated snort.

"Damnit, this is so unfair. I can't take it anymore, lying by you night after night and not even touching," she said with a fetching pout on her full lips.

"Do you think it is any easier on me?" T'larin asked.

When Tess did not answer T'larin bent and kissed her gently on the nose. She did not dare tell the girl of how she felt; of the rising level of frustration she was experiencing. She had never felt anything like that first time and now she wanted it, wanted it more than anything in the world. She was having trouble concentrating on anything else, but she also loved Tess. She could not help but worry about her and she would never willingly bring her any pain. This was the third time she had been forced to make Tess lie back and stop. She was sure that her will power was collapsing a lot faster than Tess was mending, but each time it was harder.

This time the human girl would not be stilled. Her arms shot around T'larin and bodily dragged the Elf on top of herself. Remembering the first time T'larin had touched her Tess guided the slight woman's face to the pillows of her breasts. There was a moment's hesitation, but as Tess had hoped the Elf's fascination with her breasts was stronger than her caution. T'larin's incredibly long delicate fingers cupped her heavy breasts and her eyes grew faraway. Tess applied gentle pressure to the back of T'larin's head and moaned when she felt her nipple enveloped by the elf's firm lips.

T'larin's last bit of willpower slipped away when she felt Tess's rubbery nipple in her mouth. Forgetting her own hurts and Tess's condition she formed a seal with her lips and sucked most of the aureole into her mouth. As her fingers gently massaged the breasts her tongue lovingly twirled around the hardened nipple.

Tess's shuddering moan drove T'larin to distraction; she sucked harder now using her tiny teeth to gently hold the nipple in place as her tongue lashed it. Tess tangled her hands in T'larin's long blonde tresses and pulled her tightly to her breast. T'larin suckled for a while more and then abandoned the nipple to seek it's mate. Alternating between them she kept it up until her lover was moaning continuously and then T'larin moved down wards, tracing her tongue along the underside of one breast and along the girl's tummy to her navel. T'larin stayed there a moment, swirling her tongue around Tess's bellybutton before dipping into it and then she moved father down.

T'larin settled between Tess's splayed thighs and gently massaged her mound. She tentatively licked along the slick satiny lips and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath from the red head. She continued to trail her tongue slowly over the girl's lips while her fingers played with the soft pubic curls she found so intriguing. As she continued T'larin noticed that the girl's lips had begun to pout open, revealing the inner folds. Rather than try them T'larin continued to gently tongue the girl's lips, wondering how far they would open. In no time they were gaping open and T'larin had an almost unobstructed view of her lover's sex.

The inner lips were a darker pink and at the top of the girl's slit T'larin noticed the small bud of her clit. T'larin was still unsure of many things, but she remembered the incredible sensations Tess caused in her body and surmised that this little button was the spot they emanated from. Spreading the lips wide with two long fingers she tentatively dragged her tongue over the hard little nubbin. Instantly Tess moaned and her body stiffened.

Reassured that her guess was correct T'larin began to flick her tongue over the sensitive nub. Tess's body began to rock and her hips jogged upward, but T'larin held on tightly and continued to worry the girl's clit.

"Ohhhh, T'larin... Ohh... Gods!"

The girls moaning drove T'larin to flick her tongue faster and faster until it was just a blur sliding back and forth over the satiny skin. Tess's fingers dug into her hair and pressed her face tight against the girl's pussy. T'larin could feel Tess's juices on her chin and lips but she refused to stop and taste them, all that mattered now was making this woman feel as good as she had made her feel.

Tess was silent in her orgasm, but judging from the way her body contorted T'larin guessed it was exactly what she had felt. She slowed her attentions until it was only an occasional flick of her tongue over the girl's slippery lips.

T'larin looked up to see Tess smiling down at her. The girl's face glowed and her eyes sparkled like they had that first evening. She sighed and licked her lips sensuously and T'larin became suddenly aware of the wetness between her legs and the longing there. She fought down the longing, Tess was still to sore to move and she knew she would just have to be patient, but her little vixen had other ideas.

"You're a fast learner," she commented at last.

"You are a fine teacher," T'larin countered with a grin.

"I think you are ready for your next lesson,"

"Oh no, you are not getting up. That's final. I won't have you reopening those wounds, I worked far to hard to save you from that brute to have you ruining my work,"

"I am not going to move from this spot," she said with a smile. She broke out into quiet laughter when T'larin cocked her head and gave her a puzzled stare.

Tess caught T'larin's arms and gently tugged until the elf lay on top of her. They kissed deeply, their tongues twining and caressing, stabbing into each other's mouth until they both had to pull away to catch their breath. Tess pulled at her gently and T'larin tried to follow the girl's lead, but she was not at all sure what was wanted. After a few minutes of struggle she found her knees on either side of the girl's head with her shapely ass sitting on the soft firm mounds of her breasts.

Tess moved slightly and T'larin groaned when that magical tongue began to nibble at her lips. Tess licked and kissed in a slow, languid progression. She worked from the bottom of T'larin's slit ever upwards, stopping often to kiss, nibble or retrace her steps. T'larin felt her breathing accelerate and her heartbeat skyrocket. Tess seemed to know exactly what felt best and she also seemed to be able to sense the level of excitement she produced. She would move from stimulation that drove T'larin towards a shattering orgasm only to move suddenly to somewhere that felt desperately good but allowed T'larin to come off the edge.

T'larin found herself moaning and her hands went back to rest on the girl's wide hips. Her own hips bucked and ground against Tess's lips as T'larin tried to steer Tess's tongue to where it felt best. Tess would have none of it, taking her own sweet time. She moved back to the bottom and tongued T'larin's entrance for what seemed an eternity before beginning the slow trip upwards towards her aching clit. A single flick of her tongue was enough to make T'larin shudder and she nearly screamed in frustration when the girl's mouth returned to the bottom of her slit.

To the very brink and back, again and again, each time the level of frustration built as well as the growing need. Tess worked her lover's body like a virtuoso worked her instrument. She drove the elf nearly insane with lust before seizing her clit and sucking hard. Once it was in her mouth Tess buzzed her tongue back and forth over the sensitive bud until T'larin screamed out in pleasure.

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The orcish host still sat on the other side of the river. No champion had emerged yet to take the place of the dead Warlord. The threat was lessened by the presence of the host of Silverwood and the orcs had no chance of forcing the crossing now. The orcs did not know it yet, but a mannish host approached from the south and another from the west. They would be trapped soon with the river and Elvish host acting as anvil to the hammer of the two human armies.

Ral was waiting when T'larin gingerly climbed down from the platform. He smiled at her and she knew she was already smiling. The strange grin had not left her face since she crawled out of bed and dressed.

"I see, that the prophecy has been fulfilled," he said with a look that a father might give his daughter on the day she was betrothed. Part pride, part hope and part concern.

"Thus far it has been a good one, but there still remains the question of Angrost ending the line of Aviondore," T'larin said. Tess had just reached the ground and T'larin's arm went around her and held her close without conscious thought.

Ral smiled again and said, "Angrost was the instrument which delivered your love from the jaws of death and I can hardly envisage your pairing producing a child, though with you anything is possible I suppose," he said with mock gravity.

T'larin smiled down at her lover and then laughed until it hurt. Thus the riddle was answered. The Prophesies never lied she thought, but they never seemed to turn out the way one expected either.

End