The Gift She Gives

Chapter 23

Natasha sat at a table with Thorontur, Shi, Faeron, and their daughters for dinner, with several other nonhumans that she'd met shortly after the wedding ceremony took place. It was nice, and strange, to see Elarinya giggling and happy with the small child that her brother had created with the human girl. She was sure that Thorontur had had quite the strong opinion about their brother impregnating and imprinting on a non-wood elf. She could imagine the argument that had occurred. However, by the time the eldest brother would have learned about it, Shi would already have been pregnant, and there was nothing that could have been done at that point. Still, yet another child that was not fully elf. It wouldn't have made Thorontur happy.

Granted, she couldn't think of anything that made her family that still lived at Farwathain happy. She barely knew them and hadn't really enjoyed the time she'd spent with them when she'd promised Thorontur that he could take her there for a month. Her sisters had been distant, and despite the fact that Thorontur wanted her there, he was quiet, untrusting of her the entire time. Now, after what he'd seen her do with the boundary of Vorhees, she could see even more of that distrust when he looked at her. She knew he wanted all of her secrets in the open, but she had no intention of divulging her full power to him, to anyone. If her family knew what she could do, they could try to force her to use those powers in ways that she didn't approve, and she knew her family's past, their poor behavior. She wanted nothing to do with it.

"Ennostiel, walk with me?" He couldn't have known she was thinking about him, but Natasha shivered a little anyway when she moved her eyes over to the face of her brother.

"Yes, hanar." Natasha stood and put a hand on Elarinya's shoulder to stay her when the little girl started to rise.

"Stay with Saerwen. She is enjoying you tonight." Natasha kissed her daughter's forehead, over her mark, and then waited for her brother to round the table and take hold of her arm just above the elbow.

"It was a lovely wedding. You looked beautiful tonight." Thorontur said in his deep voice, he didn't really care about the wedding, it was just another opportunity for him to spy on his siblings.

"I am not used to wearing this...little." She looked down at her exposed arms and upper chest as they walked under a canopy and then out into the open air on the side of the mountain.

The satyrs lived high up on the upper cliffs of the mountain range. It was a gorgeous area that allowed you to see for miles and miles. From here, the spa was a sprinkle of lights in the night sky. She was telling her brother the truth, she'd felt practically naked wearing so little tonight. Elves dressed conservatively, as did her father's people. So much skin exposed was abnormal for them.

"Elarinya seems happy here." He wasn't looking at her, his large eyes were focused out at the sky, as well.

"She is happy here. She gets to be a child again. No one is expecting too much of her." Natasha wished he would let her arm go, but knew it wasn't likely, as he obviously had something he wanted to discuss with her.

"Your father's people seemed to be kind to her." He didn't mention how the elves had ignored the little girl, he would never own up to that.

"They were, but wizards...they have a tendency to try to make everything a lesson. Despite how you might have felt about my being raised by Sargon Majerei, that I wasn't learning how to act as an elf, I was constantly being taught something, whether I wanted the lesson or not. I didn't want that for my daughter. Neither did Aonghas." She knew he tensed when she said the name of her dead husband, but she didn't care.

"Judging from what I've seen you do of late, you were an apt pupil." Thorontur looked down at her face.

"I have always wanted to please my father, hanar. I obviously never pleased my mother, or my siblings." She bit her lip and looked back out at the dark sky.

"You could come home." He said in a gruff, deep voice that she almost didn't hear, the pitch was so low, but she bristled a little anyway and felt him squeeze her arm a bit.

"Farwathain has never been my home. I am not comfortable there." She shook her head.

"Vorhees is so far away. Faeron has a wife and child now, he doesn't have time to look after you."

"I don't need him to look after me. Or you, for that matter." Natasha shook her head, he was so incredibly easy to read. If he had any idea just how easy it was for her to read his thoughts, and everyone else's here at Vorhees tonight, he might be more afraid of her than irritated by her.

"Ennostiel..."

"Natasha. My name is Natasha, Thorontur. Please." Natasha jerked her arm out of his grasp and turned to face him, tiring of this repetitive cycle she was on with her brother.

Thorontur's face tensed with his anger and he closed his eyes as he tried to steady his breathing. She watched as his chest rose and fell and if it wouldn't have made him more angry, she would have smirked at the fact that he was counting to twenty in his head. So very easy.

"I don't think you realize how scared we all were when you got taken by the minotaurs. It took so long to find you. We had begun to lose hope."

Natasha felt her eyes cloud with tears, they'd been scared...she'd watched her husband murdered and then had watched the minotaurs strip his carcass and eat his flesh. She'd been raped and impregnated and raped again. Scared was nothing. She'd been terrified. Clenching her fists at her side, she glared up at the eldest male elf in her family.

"Do not ever mention what happened to me again, hanar. If you do so, it will be the last time that we ever speak." Her words were cold, crisp, and she knew they hit their mark because her brother's facial expression weakened just a tad and he nodded softly at her.

"I want to protect you, neth. I cannot do that from here. It would be better to be at our bardh. At Farwathain."

"You cannot protect me any better than I can protect myself." Natasha waved her arms around her at the boundary that she had mostly created on her own.

He knew without seeing what she was pointing to what she was talking about and frowned. Her brother was extremely frustrated about her powers. He wanted her at Farwathain to learn more about her, not so that she could learn more about being a proper elf.

"Would it be that impossible for you to believe that I might possibly care about you?" Thorontur growled at her and Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

"You told our mother before she died that she should have killed herself when she got pregnant with a non-elf child. You called me a laith eredh." A dead and gone seed. She could remember him saying it clear as day, and she'd been in her mother's womb.

Thorontur looked at her in confusion. She could not possibly have known what he had said to their mother. Shaking his head, he put a hand on her cheek. She resisted the way he was trying to enter her thoughts, as she always did. Natasha would give him nothing. Not today, not ever.

"Why, Ennostiel. Why won't you let me in?" He murmured, his anger gone now, leaving only his frustration as he spoke to her.

"I would never be enough for you, Thorontur. I am only half-elf, and you don't even really like that half. And you hate the wizard in me, you always have." Natasha sighed, putting her hand over that of her brother and patting it for a few moments before stepping back and turning away from him.

"So you will stay here? At this spa, and do what, Natasha? Work as a whore?" Thorontur tossed the words over her shoulder and she paused and turned back towards him.

"For now, I will stay with Faeron and Shi, who have offered us a bedroom in their apartment after you leave. I have no need of work. My husband cared for me financially very well." She said to him, smiling softly in farewell before bowing her head a little to the left and turning and walking away.

He didn't respond, and she didn't expect him to. Thorontur was a bully, he always had been and she couldn't see him ever changing that about himself. He'd been a bully for a very very very long time. She was pretty sure he prided himself on that fact. Biting her lip, Natasha almost turned to go back to the area where tables had been set up, but instead decided to walk along the narrow path that she'd found herself on after walking away from her brother. Humming softly, she reached out a hand and fluttered it against the leaves of the branches of brush that she passed as she slowly descended the mountain a little at a time.

While she walked, she thought of what she'd said to Thorontur. Would she really stay at the spa? Vesper was a true friend, and she knew the ayperi saw her as her closest friend, as well. They'd bonded in a way that she'd never been able to bond with someone else before, when Vesper had touched her when she'd first come to the spa. Natasha didn't really want to leave the place where she'd truly found friends for the first time in her life. Aonghas had been a friend, of course, but he'd been her lover, her heart. And they'd been alone during their time together. Did she actually wish to leave Vorhees?

Natasha knew that the answer was no, but just as Vesper didn't want to raise her child in a sex spa, Natasha didn't want Elarinya growing up in those halls, either. She knew if she asked Mr. Hughes if she could build a small house somewhere on the property, however, that he would most likely say yes, especially since he knew of her closeness to his wife. Would that be enough? It seemed like it would work.

Natasha bit her lip a little harder when she stumbled just a bit on a loose rock and had to grab a hold of a tree branch to steady herself, her big eyes on the rock as it skirted down the side of the mountain into the darkness. Looking around, she hadn't realized that she'd walked so far, and had to lean her head way back to see the light coming from the lanterns that had been lit for the wedding festival above her. Frowning, she considered going back up, the journey the first time had been difficult, she didn't really want to do it a second time.

She'd almost turned to do so when she saw something just past the branches she was near. Peering through them, she saw what appeared to be somewhat of a landing on the side of the mountain and walked through the brush towards it. The trees cleared out somewhat and she knew her eyes widened as she took in the tree stump in the center of the clearing. It looked as if someone had taken great care to smooth and shape it just right, with two knobs on one side and a curved edge on the other. It was just about waist high, as well. Licking her lower lip, she stepped closer to it and put a small hand on top of the warm surface of the stump, closing her eyes as she did so. Oh, Jesus. She gasped, almost pulling her hands back as the images came to her from the tree. Skin, pulsating heat, fluid, braying, intense pounding, oh, the sensation of what this stump was used for was deeply embedded down to the roots and it spilled out into her hands as if to say, "See, you're not the only one on Earth that gets used against their will."

Finally lifting her hand, she placed it on her chest as she worked to steady the breaths that she was taking, when had she started to breathe so hard? Looking around her, Natasha was thankful that no one was near. Everyone was still up at the party. Turning around, she sat down on the stump, careful not to let the flesh of the wood below her make contact with her skin this time, her dress was thankfully long. It was January, after all.

Thorontur was always the same. He wanted to know what her true powers were. He wanted to know how he could exploit them. He had always been consistent in that he never changed. Faeron, however, had changed over the last fifty years or so. He had always been the more cool-tempered brother, though he definitely had not supported her marriage to a unicorn. It had felt like yet another slap in the face of her elvish heritage. But he had not ever treated her daughter as something less than his kin. At the spa, he had actually begun to act like a doting uncle to her little girl. Imprinting on a human must have really altered his mind, as well, she sighed, for he would never have suggested that he stay here with her daughter in his apartment, fully knowing that Thorontur would not want that, and their sister, Eruraina, would most definitely not agree with it.

"I would not like to scare you, my dear." A deep rumbly male voice said softly from somewhere behind her and Natasha shivered just a little. It was not often that she was so lost in her own thoughts that she wasn't paying any attention whatsoever to the thoughts of those around her.

Turning her head, she saw one of the satyrs step slowly in to view. The fact that she knew his name was Ailen without ever having actually truly met him bothered her even though it was like that with everyone she met. The satyrs kept to their mountain, and only Cynric was prone to visit Mr. Hughes at the spa since she'd been here. Natasha had, however, been introduced to each of the nonhumans who worked at the spa, she had just tried really hard not to focus on them, as she always felt like she was betraying them somehow by knowing their thoughts. The tall, light brown satyr wore a brown cloth wrapped around his lower body, something all the satyrs had done for the wedding to keep all of their parts hidden from the children in attendance. Even their women had covered themselves for the evening. The satyr males kept to the mountain, but the women were even more elusive, smaller, but bulky like the men, and not friendly at all. Almost hostile, she thought to herself.

"I'm not scared." She wasn't. He wasn't threatening her, and if he were to, she would know his intentions and be able to stop him.

"Good." His smile was warm, welcoming, and Natasha found herself looking over his large male form a little more closely.

His hooves were large, possible larger than Aonghas. Natasha frowned a little as she looked at those two black hooves, she must stop comparing everyone and everything to him. He was dead. There was no bringing back someone who was so completely gone. The hooves gave way to powerful cannons. He had longish light brown fur from those cannons to his rump, and she couldn't help but notice how shapely that particular part of him was, muscled thickly as it was. When Natasha moved her eyes up to the human-like chest, she blushed a little, he was checking her over, as well, and was liking what he saw. She looked up at his large brown eyes and saw a spark of something there that she hadn't seen, or wanted to see, in a very long time.

"I want to ask you a question, one you might not like." He said to her, and Natasha frowned harder, no, she did not like his question at all.

"Your horns do not offend or frighten me, but I would rather you not-." Natasha shook her head and sighed, putting her hands down on the stump beneath her to push herself up. It was past time to return to the party above them.

Natasha gasped again, audibly, when she felt the tree slap her hard with its history once again and she felt her pussy twist and grow wet as she breathed in the husky male scent of the satyr that had moved around to the front of her and was coming quite close, worried that she had hurt herself in some way.

"Are you all right?" Ailen frowned, not sure what had happened to the elf as she'd tried to get up, the stump was smooth, it should not have hurt her.

"Wait, don't touch me." Natasha found herself whimpering when his large, darn, he had really large hands, cupped her by her bare elbows and his face leaned down towards her, eyes filled with concern.

And BAM, she transferred the feelings from the stump right into the satyr.

"Your n-name is Natasha, r-right?" The man before her shook a little and he moved his hands off of her, fisting them at his side as he spoke coarsely.

"Yes. Ailen, I am sorry. What I just did, I didn't mean to do."

"What did you do, how did you do it?" Ailen could practically feel like he was a part of what had been passed to him by the elf, and it had been very very sensual and his body was still trying hard to respond to it.

She really didn't want to explain that living things, ALL living things, could pass memory to her, both visual and physical. It was too hard, and it was her secret.

"I don't know. I think that this...tree...has a lot of history." Natasha breathed out a sigh as she folded her hands in her lap. Her lower body was practically screaming that it was ready to try this whole sex thing again, and she knew it wasn't that easy.

Ailen felt the heat in his body rise as he looked at her sitting on the stump that they used to frenzy with the women they fucked for Mr. Hughes. It certainly had a lot of history. But right now, he couldn't think of a single woman that he had fucked on this stump in the past. All he could think about was that he was in desperate need of fucking THIS woman on this stump. And that wasn't possible. Satyrs fucked as a flock, and he was the only one here, the others were still at the wedding. This was not normal at all.

"Why do I want to fuck? Did you do this to me?" He asked her, a bit accusatory, but Natasha didn't mind, she knew she was at fault.

"I'm so sorry, Ailen. I think maybe when you touched me, the...whatever it was...from the stump...moved from me and into you."

"So you feel that?" He bent a little before her and sniffed heavily, yeah, he was smelling her pussy, her sopping wet, hot, pussy.

"I can't fuck you by myself, I've never fucked a woman by myself. My flock..." He looked to the mountain above them.

"Ailen," Natasha shook her head, her eyes filling with fear, "I can't be with your fl-flock. It would be too much like, too much..."

She felt tears fill her eyes despite the desire that was making her flushed and uncomfortable, and she frowned as one of his hands lifted her chin to make her look up at him.

"Natasha, I do not wish to hurt you."

She sighed, shaking her head as she tried to get things sorted out within it, having a really hard time doing so with this man standing so close to her, smelling of pine and sap and man. Ugh, what a time for her desire to get pushed into overdrive, and by a tree stump, no less!

"I never said I wanted my flock here." His voice was a throaty rumble that made her skin shiver uncontrollably.

"But you can't-." Natasha looked at him confused, he had just said that he couldn't fuck her on his own.

"Natasha, can I kiss you?" His question startled her and Natasha stared at him with wide eyes for several moments before she nodded her head just the slightest.

The whimper that left her lips when his head dipped and his mouth surrounded hers was lost in the rustle of the night wind around them, and Natasha felt her pussy leak against her panties as she wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling, but not caring, that he had pushed her hard down against the stump beneath her, and his hands were kneading hard at her cloth-covered breasts.

"Open your mouth." He demanded against her lips, and Natasha sucked in a breath as her lips and teeth parted in a shiver.

His large tongue shoved within her hot mouth and she felt him groan and slide it against hers over and over as his hands went to the upper hem of her dress and he grabbed a tight hold if it just above each of her breasts and pulled hard, ripping the cloth open as if it were flimsier than a piece of paper.

"I can smell your cunt, Natasha." He grunted, his mouth dipping to her throat as he undid her bra more gently than he had the dress and discarded of it on the ground beside them.

"I haven't felt like...this...in a long time." She whispered against his ear, pushing her upper body towards his questing mouth, all of her wanted those hard, warm, lips to connect with the skin of her breasts.