From Sea To Shore

A request featuring Jaina Proudmoore from WoW and a male night elf.

***

Of all the horrible places that existed on Azeroth, the sea, despite all of its beauty, had to be the worst place to be. For someone like Kalthenar, who knew little magic albeit for a defensive spell or two, and preferred the ways of sword and shield atop dirt and stone, there was little certainly in the way of seafaring: you either made it to your destination, or you sank to the bottom of the sea. A fatal mistake by the ship's captain, or a devastating attack by naga or pirates or some other force, and that was it. Being out at sea meant loosening your grip over your own fate and handing it over to somebody else. If anything happened, you were at the mercy of whatever deity you believed in. Barring, of course, long distance teleportation. And there was only one person capable of such a fantastical feat onboard.

Lady Jaina Proudmoore stood atop the main deck amidst a small crowd of soldiers and other personnel, including but not limited to the man who steered the ship and the fates of everyone on board, as well as the royal jackass who had somehow eaten, kicked, or brayed his way into the position of captain of Proudmoore's guard.

As Kalthenar approached them, the donkey spoke.

"Where have you been, Kalthenar?"

They'd been out at sea for less than a day and already he'd been subjected to the scorn of this man and a select few underlings. As hired help who reported solely to Lady Proudmoore, it bothered him little, and in a way he found it amusing, but relations needed to be cordial if Proudmoore was to be properly protected.

"Inspecting the ship," he replied.

"Making yourself useful. Good. Find anything?"

"Only a few rats," Kalthenar said, meeting Jaina's gaze. "I hope you don't mind, but I inspected your quarters as well."

The Captain spoke before Jaina could even open her mouth. "Her quarters?" He turned to Proudmoore. "Did you know about this?"

"No--"

"What were you doing in her quarters without permission?"

"My job."

Anger didn't suit the man. His wide nostrils flared and a pair of big caterpillar eyebrows crawled to meet each other in the middle. Anticipating his anger, Jaina rushed to intervene, stepping forward with an uneasy smile.

"I'll take care of this, Captain." She waved away her entourage of soldiers and gestured for Kalthenar to follow her. They walked, tracing the railing, and once they were sufficiently far enough away and out of earshot, she said, "How was the inspection?"

"As I said, I found nothing of interest. The ship is safe."

"And my room?"

"I... searched your room for traps and assassins. I assure you I did not go through your belongings."

"I thought so." She grinned and leaned against the rail of the ship. Gently, the wind blew at her hair, unsettling her blonde locks. Above them seabirds coasted along with the ship, lending their voice to the rumblings below, and the sun highlighted her, imbued her with its radiance, and all at once he became aware of her as more than just an employer. "I apologize for the Captain," she continued. "He thinks, I imagine, that I've undercut his authority by having hired you."

"You haven't. There's nothing shameful about receiving help."

"That's very mature of you. I just hope you don't rub it in his face."

"We Kaldorei are not so petty," he said, looking down at her and noting how short she was. "And unlike you humans, we tend to act our age."

"Sometimes that leads to arrogance," she said, her tone neutral, yet inflected with the barest trace of playfulness.

Despite her incredible power, both politically and magically, this human seemed in no way conceited. On the contrary, she seemed altogether affable and good-natured. He couldn't help but smile.

"This is true," he admitted.

They engaged in idle chatter briefly before she slipped away to tend to her duties, but, in the fashion of a host tending to a guest, she invited him to dinner.

Naturally, he accepted.

***

Dinner came and went. Tended by chefs and waiters she'd brought along for the trip, they spoke privately of light pleasantries and general subjects from world history to personal history. As time went by, the affable nature of her deportment became more and more obvious to him, matching her intelligent wit and inciting within him a very natural, and very primal emotion.

Unintentionally, he found himself desiring the archmage. Wholly and utterly. She wore a robe at all times, sometimes simple, sometimes extravagant, but always upon her person. She did not go out of her way to impress, and little skin was typically revealed by her attire, yet it was her conservative nature--so dissimilar to the women of his culture--combined with her bright smile, shining hair and undeniable intellect, that drew him in and made him yearn for her.

Unfortunately, despite his duty to protect her, he spent very little time with her over the next two days. Most of her time was spent in her room, toiling away at something or other with little contact by anyone except for her bespectacled female assistant who aided her. So, as well as the sun suited her, and as much as he found himself wishing to see her, he resigned himself to a boring, but monetarily lucrative trip.

The fourth day at sea proved different than the previous three.

Nearing the evening, Jaina caught him at the stern of the ship and apologized for sequestering herself within her quarters. He assured her that he took only the slightest offense to her actions, and when she laughed he found that, too, to be fascinating.

Before she arrived he'd been looking out at sea, towards a towering grey mass of clouds and a silently pattering storm wall. It had formed abruptly and seemingly out of nowhere. As she stood beside him, she gazed at it with him, her mirth gone.

"Naga," she said.

The incredulity of her revelation caught him off guard, but after a split second he blinked and became alert all at once, reaching for his sword only to be stopped by Jaina's hand upon his.

"Where?" he asked.

"Unless you plan on diving in there, you needn't worry." She pointed to the storm wall. In the brief interim he'd spent talking to her, it had advanced considerably. Preternaturally so.

"I came out here because I thought I felt something unusual in the air," she continued, and she directed her finger down to the angry water below. "There must be a sea witch somewhere down there empowering the storm. No doubt they intend to strike when we're in the middle of it."

"When they're at an advantage." This time his hand found her, seizing her by the wrist. "Let's get you inside and alert the Captain."

She resisted his pull. "I appreciate your concern, but I have a duty to those on this ship just as much as you have a duty to protect me."

His grip loosened and she pulled away, only to raise her hand and murmur something even his long ears couldn't detect. Almost immediately, a swirling, pulsing, shimmering amalgamation of energy formed above them and the ship, hovering ominously before it lanced into the depths and exploded shortly thereafter, tearing through the water and illuminating the scattering limbs and long, slithering tails of naga. Coiling, hateful creatures that snarled and bolted away, their hisses almost audible despite the distance of depths between them. There were about half a dozen that he could see during this brief flash of light, but a subsequent burst of energy, followed by another, all targeting different locations, revealed more of the serpentine savages.

Impressed not only by her raw power but her quick assessment of the situation and fast decision-making, he felt a potentially ruinous heat rush through him when she turned to him and smiled as if to reassure him.

"I doubt they'll attack us now. They prefer to prey on the weak."

"I don't blame them," he replied. ""You're an impressive woman. I'm beginning to wonder why I'm here at all."

"Thank you," she said with a humble bow of the head, as a performer to an audience. "But that's nonsense. A mage is nothing without support from her foot soldiers."

"I'm not sure if I entirely believe that, but I will support you in any way I can, Lady Proudmoore."

"Don't be stuffy like the others. Call me Jaina."

He nodded and returned her smile.

"Jaina."

It was a promising moment, but whatever opportunity had arisen was quickly dashed by movement out at sea. His eyes flickered away from Jaina's and he found himself gazing into the gleaming, pointed eye of an arrow, notched upon a bow clutched within the scaled, turquoise hands of one of the naga. It loosed the arrow with a wretched sneer, the trajectory clear, and he shouted something unintelligible, his body moving automatically.

The two of them hit the deck with a clattering thump. Jaina's pained grunt made him wince and draw back to assess her condition. Her eyes were wide, her blonde hair splayed about the paneling, her hand raised to his chest in what would have been a harmless defensive gesture if not for what she was capable of.

"The naga," he blurted, head swiveling to find the arrow he'd looked at seconds prior lodged within the railing overlooking the main deck.

Jaina saw it, too, and her features softened as she realized what he'd done.

But then her features hardened again, and she stood up. The storm was upon them now, buffeting them with winds that howled like drowned spirits of the damned, sending her robes into disarray, flapping and whipping behind her. A staff materialized in her right hand, a shimmering gemstone set atop it.

He stood up beside her, sword valiantly but ineffectively raised--a branch, a stick, against a literal storm. In the distance, lightning spliced out of the sky like heavenly veins of blinding white light. The air felt heavy, thick and soupy. Rain began to strike the ship, a rapidly growing drizzle that sought to drown them and all but blinded them instead.

A sudden thrum shook the air, not by thunder or the naga-guided storm, but originating from the sea below. The waters raged tempestuously, hatefully, shaking the boat, but the sea began to shift in unnatural fashion, rising up in defiance of natural law, commingling with the rain, twisting and shaping like an upside-down whirlpool. A glow emanated from Jaina's staff, and he had no doubt then that the behemoth forming in front of him, growing and growing to inexplicable heights, expanding to a degree larger than two ships side-by-side, belonged to her.

When its shape coalesced in full, it stood atop the waves, a water elemental of titanic proportions, sleek and rippling as if blue blood pumped through its amorphous body. A pair of bands about its disfigured, tentacular arms binded it to her, and with a heaving start it dived into the sea like a wave striking the ocean, merging into it.

Jaina lowered her staff.

"He'll take care of the naga following us," she said. "But the storm we'll just have to ride out."

Sheathing his sword, he grabbed her and pulled. "Let's go. It isn't safe out here."

This time, she allowed him to lead her down a flight of stairs onto the main deck and towards her quarters.

"I'm sorry I blamed you," she shouted over the wind.

After what he'd just witnessed, it took him a couple of seconds to understand what she meant, but then he remembered the hand she'd raised against his chest when he unceremoniously tackled her to the floor.

"You didn't," he yelled back.

Workers and soldiers scurried across the ship, while the wind and rain assaulted the sails. Smothering clouds, combined with the dwindling day, blanketed the world in murky-gray darkness. Behind him, Jaina hurried, her left hand in his right.

"I did! Silently!"

If he weren't worried for her safety at that moment, he probably would have laughed.

"Apologize later!"

Escorting her to her cabin, he left her there and sought out the Captain, informing him of both the naga and the circumstances behind the storm. Despite their prior differences, the man made only one disparaging remark before hurrying off to bark orders to his men. Afterwards, with the storm still raging and Jaina's pet water monster hunting beneath the waves, he returned to her quarters.

Knocking on her door, he called her name over a crackle of thunder. When she didn't answer, he called again, then waited a handful of seconds before tossing the door open and stepping inside, hand on the hilt of his sword.

The door slammed shut. A room far less sumptuously furnished than one might expect of a woman as highly regarded as Jaina Proudmoore filled his view. The archmage was missing, however, until she stepped out of an adjoining room and greeted him with a faint smile.

"Is everything alright out there?" she asked. She wore a plain white robe now, thin and clean. Bulging at the chest.

"No signs of the naga, no injuries, and the Captain has been alerted."

"Good." She stepped forward, and for the first time since he'd seen her, appeared nervous. "I don't normally do this."

The robe fell.

With its absence, he got what likely had to be the most beautiful view one could get inside or outside of a storm. A womanly figure revealed itself, and though it was obvious she lacked the toned body of a warrior or traditional fighter, what she didn't lack were curves. She carried them in abundance. Full breasts that looked heavy but held firm atop her chest, hips that flared outward and promised much were she to turn around and expose her backside, as well as a healthy pair of thighs attached to legs that would look good wrapped around him.

"What is this?" he asked, simultaneously shocked and intrigued.

"My apology. Do you accept?"

And why not? There were no rules against intimacy with your employer.

Stepping forward, he took her in his arms, grabbed her, felt her, pressed his lips to hers. She responded eagerly, the dam inside of her broken and a rush of passion flowing forth. Mewling, she pushed against him. His hand ruffled her honey-gold hair, while the other grasped at her breast, grabbed and groped then moved down the curve of her hip to grope her ass as if he couldn't get enough of her. Their tongues met, she sucked on his, the flutter of longing within her belly obvious by the way she grinded against him.

"I don't normally do this," she repeated, as if it were important she convinced him.

"Neither do I."

"Really?"

"Not with my employer, no."

"There's that... mmn, arrogance."

He kissed at her neck, sucked her pulse point, then knelt and brought a finger to her pussy. A tremble ran through her body. She bit her lip and watched him with needy, hooded eyes. Beautiful. He traced her slit before curling his finger inside of her, churning in and out while his lips met her clit, sucking it into his mouth and applying pressure, carefully and skillfully bringing her to an orgasm that made her squirm and sigh.

The bed called to them, and they fell upon it, limbs entwined and lips locked. He was hungry for her, but she reacted with profound longing that bordered upon desperation. She'd been telling the truth when she said she didn't typically do this. She was cock-starved and aching to be filled, a pinnacle of femininity in need of masculine touch.

Tossing off his pants and settling himself between her legs, she looked as if she'd drool when she saw his cock, his shaft long and purple and pulsing with primal energy. Her pussy did drool, and it was slick and ready when he pushed the engorged head of his crown into her, spreading her tight cunt and sliding into her.

She groaned and glanced up at him, their eyes meeting before returning to watch his cock disappear inch by inch inside of her, parting her petals and burying itself into the hot furnace of her core.

Thunder rumbled from beyond the wooden cabin and the entire world seemed to shake from the combined might of sky and sea. They ignored it though, focused only on themselves.

When he was at last balls-deep inside of her, he grasped her beneath the knees and spread her legs wide, grinding himself against her. Her head fell back upon the pillow with a moan, her golden hair gleaming in lantern light and her breasts, large, milky-white and hanging slightly off-center from her chest, began to jiggle as he withdrew to the tip and then pushed forward again. All the way in, then back out, then in again. His pace quickened by degrees, and so too did her satisfied cries and throaty purrs. The highly competent lady who'd scattered an entire force of naga was gone now, and in her place, a woman of earthly cravings and primitive delights.

Long, deep strokes that bottomed out inside of her made her moan and shake with pleasure. Every muscle in her pussy seemed to squeeze and clench, gripping him so tightly he had to resist the urge to blow his load inside of her almost immediately.

"That's good," she groaned, her breath shaky, her pelvis rising to meet his thrusts. The bed shook beneath them. Heat blossomed throughout her body, flushing her pale skin red with arousal, and the tender yet obscene sound of their bodies slapping against each other was broken only occasionally by loud bursts of thunder.

Soon, her control came apart in tatters. Grasping at her bouncing breasts, she kneaded them in wanton fashion, wringing all the pleasure she could get from their encounter, her moans breathless and more frequent. He brought his thumb to her clit then, stroking and petting her sensitive nub while he pumped and stretched her pussy, hard and fast and good enough to make her eyes go wide.

Wild-eyed, she sat up with her hands upon the bed behind her and looked at him while he stuffed her juicy cunt, sweat beading at her brow, legs forcibly spread, and her mouth open in a perpetual pant. The ample fullness of her breasts, emphasized almost to the point of absurdity by her positioning and topped by hard pink nipples, jiggled every time his body collided into hers.

Still rubbing at her clit, he could see her orgasm building from her expression alone. When it finally hit a tremor quaked through her, and her eyes rolled, lashes fluttering and pussy clenching up around him.

Leaning forward, he kissed her, still pumping her pussy as he tongued her mouth and grabbed one of her heavy breasts. Pinching her nipple, he said, "Let's flip you over."

Helping her up, she positioned herself facing the door, face down, ass up, and grasping for the edge of the bed. In the brief interim of their frenzied copulation, while he positioned himself behind her, there was a fleeting lull in action, during which they became acutely aware of their surroundings. The roaring of rain striking the ship could be heard alongside the waves tossing them about and the continued thunder shouting down at them. A rush of footsteps hurried past the outside of the door, and he paused with his cock in hand, the tip nuzzled against her sex. But then the footsteps faded into more rain, more thunder, and with one hand holding onto one of her sultry hips, he pushed back into her.

All the way, hilting deep inside of her with his cock kissing her cervix. Jaina whined and wiggled her ass against him. Big and well-shapen, she had the kind of behind that matched her wide hips and robe-defying breasts that were, as he looked up, currently smushed against the mattress and peeking out from either side of her back.

"Good?" he asked, beginning a series of wicked strokes that hit deep and fast. A steady, measured pace of dick for an undersexed archmage.

"Incredible," she said, voice muffled by the bedsheets.

Maintaining this pace, he pumped Jaina's pretty pink pussy with all he had, stretching her out and inciting her to grow louder and louder, her cries and moans partially obfuscated by the environment outside. His fingers tightened upon her hips, indenting her skin, while the back and forth pounding of his body into hers made waves of a different kind upon the thick cheeks of her alabaster behind. Wobbling and jiggling, the sharp clapping of her ass echoed like miniature thunderbolts inside the room, cutting through the haze and reminding him that he was fucking Jaina Proudmoore in her cabin, something so unbelievable that the idea hadn't even crossed his mind before.