A Drow's Dilemma Ep. 08: New Goals

Author's Note:

A Drow's Dilemma began as a one-on-one roleplaying project and has been converted into a chapter-by-chapter format for weekly posting with the permission and assistance from my partner. It will contain a considerable amount of sexual themes such as femdom, lesbian, straight, 'reverse' rape, BDSM, group sex, romance, and other themes. This particular chapter contains straight sex. The main goal of the story, however, is to tell an epic tale of adventures, gods and goddesses, fae, and nymphomaniacs. This episode and every episode to come will be available for free on Literotica for the foreseeable future.

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Episode Eight: New Friends, New Goals

Ashyr parted with the Caravan after a few miles of their long, slow walk to safety. They moved along altogether too slowly for her tastes. Especially in her current state of mind, she felt like she needed to be doing something. Anything. Or, for that matter, Anyone. Someone did come to her mind, actually. He had been a woodsman in this forest a few years ago; perhaps he was still working somewhere around here. There was nothing like a good roll in some soft ferns to get her mind off of... the person that her mind kept wandering to.

She grinned at the memory of meeting him. He had been stalking the same herd that she was tracking. Ashyr had been far better at keeping to the shadows than he had been. He was just a human, after all, and hadn't even been alive for as long as Ashyr had been traveling on and off to the surface. The woodsman had been just good enough to keep the deer from spooking at the sight, sound, or smell of him. He had not been good enough to avoid ambush by a mischievous drow.

"Who are you- get off of me!" He had said so indignantly that it made her laugh (and the deer startle, but neither of them cared about the deer at that point).

The drow ranger had not actually meant him harm, as was quickly established. He was handsome for a human, and Ashyr was in the mood to court a male. Once he recovered from the shock, he begrudgingly agreed to hunt as a team for a little while - but only until they took what they needed from the nearby herd. That caveat had been important to him for some reason. It was good enough for Ashyr; she didn't need a long-term partner.

Thoughts of him were on her mind for the rest of the day. It distracted her until she looked up at the sky and realized that it didn't burn her eyes anymore. Usually she would have shown herself for a little while before finding some hole to hide in, but... facing them at that moment didn't appeal to her at all. There were memories there that she was avoiding. So, she found one of her many hideouts littered around this part of the forest and settled down for sleep.

Naturally, her first inclination was to do a little more 'thinking' about the woodsman. As there was nothing stopping her, she settled into a more comfortable position and began to imagine the one time she did manage to get into his pants.

It was around the time they agreed to part. They had just set up their carcasses to bleed in one of the small buildings near his hunting lodge. The only thing left to do was wait. Ashyr knew something that would pass the time.

"That was not part of the deal." The gruff young human had said when she embraced him from behind and began to play with the ties of his trousers. But he didn't resist enough for Ashyr to be really discouraged. He had only gripped her hand to force it to stop. She had another hand, however, which was snaking up his loose tunic to feel his well-developed abdomen.

"Consider it a bonus." She murmured into his back. Ashyr would have whispered in his ear, but he was taller than she was by a considerable amount. "Don't worry; I'll be out of your hair by noon tomorrow." And it was quite a lot of hair that he had. Apparently, that mess of brown curls on the top of his head only got coarser as it traveled down his body.

He had hesitated, still gripping her hand but clearly sorely tempted. That temptation overcame him in the end. He turned abruptly and lifted her by the hips onto the table, immediately overwhelming her mouth with his lips. The average drow female would have been shocked and appalled at such a treatment by a 'submissive' male. Ashyr, however, had had experience with men used to being in charge. It was fun, actually, to engage in that little dance of dominance. That dance begun then when Ashyr let the kiss go on for a few minutes longer before shoving him back from her. He had not been expecting the sudden action; he stumbled backwards and landed with a heavy thump onto the bed behind them. The drow quickly followed up by pouncing on him.

"I guess-" He began, breathless and amused, -"That I shouldn't- have been- surprised- by that." The man managed to say between rushed kisses and frantic removal of clothing.

"Drow." She had said in reply. "Dominant- women- is our Thing."

And she proved that to him by stripping the rest of his clothes from his body and revealing his full, naked form to her. He looked just as hairy as he felt, which was a bit different than what Ashyr was used to. She didn't mind in the slightest - especially not when she saw his proud erection rising from the masculine fur. Like his hair, it was bigger and thicker than drow members. She shifted her body down to mouth his large shaft, and twitched slightly in surprise when she felt his hand rest on her hair. Ashyr didn't let it discourage her. She clearly needed the additional lubrication that her mouth could add.

After lingering there for a while, licking him up and down and sucking at the bulbous head, Ashyr gave him one last swirl of her tongue and crawled back up his hairy frame. With his help, she eased onto his cock. It stretched her out so satisfyingly. He seemed to appreciate it too; he groaned as she slipped further down his length. Even in that small hideout several years later, Ashyr could remember that deep-throated noise with shuddering pleasure. Not much in the way of words were exchanged after that. They coupled with enthusiasm that night, and the memory of how he filled her sex so completely was enough to send her over the edge.

Thoughts and memories of the woodsman sent her drifting off to sleep and were with her when she woke again. It was so vivid in her mind that she couldn't resist the plan that came to her: she should look him up. If he was still around here somewhere, he was bound to be up for another lay. An open invitation had been given. Sort of.

As it turned out, finding him was not difficult. She simply had to find the herd of deer that was in the area, then look for anyone that was stalking them. And there was that mess of brown hair, now flecked with a light dusting of grey and a little thinner than before. That didn't surprise her; she knew how quickly humans aged. With a mischievous grin, she tapped the crouching male on the shoulder. "Woodsman." She whispered soft enough to not disturb the herd.

The man jumped and turned to her with his bow half raised. "Ashyr." Then his head whipped back around. Hers did too; the herd was spooked by something that could not have been related to them. Then a pack of wolves ghosted past their view in pursuit of the deer.

"That damned pack!" The man swore when they were well out of sight. "They've been messing with me for days now!" He made another frustrated noise, then turned back to Ashyr. "What are you doing here? I thought I was never going to see you again." He said with cautious suspicion.

"Looking for you, woodsman. Since the hunt is over, care to spend your time more leisurely?" She asked with a suggestive tilt of her hips and a wink.

"I have a name you know, Ashyr." The human sighed.

"I figured." She just didn't remember and, frankly, didn't care much. Why learn the name of a human who was just going to die in a couple decades? Or sooner... "So what do you say? You and me? Your lodge?"

He looked pained, annoyed, and perhaps just a bit amused. "You're too late, drow. I found a different partner. I am married."

Ashyr wasn't clear on all that entailed, except she had the idea that that meant some sort of exclusivity. Like how faithful Gurzan was to his wife. But what would it hurt if this human's spouse didn't find out? "We can do it here, then. I am flexible. Abyss, we can still go back and invite your woman to play along."

"No, Ashyr. My wife would not be amused. Not only that: she's busy enough as it is taking care of the twins. I was nice seeing you I suppose, but I'm really going to have to insist that you leave."

"Come on... we can be quick." Ashyr said as she began to press her body into his.

The human smacked her away. "Absolutely not." He said with a finality that dashed all her hopes of seduction. "Goodbye again. Don't think I won't shoot you if you try to mess with me and my family again." With that, he began to walk away. For a moment, something seemed to occur to him. "Be careful of the pack hunting around here. I think they're from the north." Then he was gone. In a huff, Ashyr walked the opposite direction.

--

The fact that Artur apparently decided against telling the rest of the troupe about his rather unfortunate case of ghostliness lifted a huge burden off of Caleldir's shoulders. He mourned for Celeste for a day or so and carried guilt over her death much longer. He was not made for angst or sadness, and recovered relatively quickly. He said a blessing at the grave, wished her soul the best, and was back to his normal, cheerful self by the time that Ashyr came striding into the caravan campsite the next morning with a young wolf following her. An interesting, nearly aggressively friendly wolf. Caleldir had not seen a blond wolf before. Generally, he had only seen white or grey ones. He knew they existed, but actually seeing one caused him to join in with the camp's general obsession with the adorable creature.

Gurzan, however, gave the young wolf a quick look then sidled up to Ashyr with an approving glint hiding behind his impassive face. "It seems that you have made a new friend." He observed. "I suppose that you are a proper ranger after all." The glint faded and his face went serious. "I do not know if you are still planning to report back to your bosses, and maybe I will still be your enemy, but I at least want to thank you for your help and offer sympathy for all our loss. The rest of us have not forgotten Celeste." With that, he strode away.

To say that Ashyr appreciated Gurzan's words would be putting it a little too strongly. She listened to them in silence with a ghost of amusement on her face that would have been much greater had the circumstances been different. The drow was glad that the orc said them, and she understood why he would still choose not to trust her. It was a fair assessment after all. Though she was beginning to think about trying to keep what was left of the troop away from the general abuse of her people when they came. Preserve their way of life, that sort of thing. Maybe she could claim them as her personal slaves of entertainment... Not that kind of entertainment. Mostly.

Ashyr sighed and went back to thoughtfully eating her food where she sat at the edge of the encampment.

Meanwhile, Caleldir had paid the small wolf its due amount of attention, and noticed that Ashyr was eating alone in a rather melancholy fashion. She probably wanted to be left alone. It would be for the best if he left her to her thoughts... But then again, it was acting on that sort of instinct that had caused him to spend a very lonely life this far. Perhaps he could be of some comfort; at very least he could help take her mind off of Celeste. Perhaps they could discuss that world domination thing she had alluded to earlier. Steeling his resolve, he took his own roast and sat next to the broody dark elf. "Good to see you again, Lady Duskhaven." He said in very genuine tone. "That had to be the fastest anyone has ever tamed a wolf cub. You have impressive abilities indeed. Where did you find him?"

"He came to me." Ashyr began in explanation. "Yesterday I encountered a pack that decided to hunt the same small herd deer I was trying to get at. They were larger and lighter in color than the wolves you usually get out here, which was unfortunate, because it meant the deer spotted them almost immediately. Then the wolves and deer were both gone - or at least that's what I thought. Then I spotted that guy," She gestured over toward the campfire where the teenage wolf begged Fucking piteously for the last of the meat that the goblin was cooking. "He got a hoof to the head or something, because he was on the ground bleeding all over the place. His pack left him for dead. So I healed him. Didn't know I had it in me, really, but after I watched Gurzan do it for me it sort of... clicked, you know? Anyway, damn beast wouldn't leave me alone after that. I think I accidentally bonded with him, like the half-orc and his eagle." She didn't seem too perturbed about it, despite her words. A faint smile crossed her face when the wolf resorted to theft and began speeding around the camp gleefully as Fucking tried to catch up with him. "Named him Bard."

"Oh, I doubt that it is exactly like Gurzan and his eagle." Caleldir said with amusement. "That story is not my secret to tell though. But yes, something like that: an almost mystic connection. I am even more impressed now." He looked out at the wolf. Blond... named Bard... Oh. That made sense. "Bard is a good name." He said neutrally. Ashyr's mood had never been easy to see through - she had always seemed broody - but he thought he could tell that she was a least a little happier now, both with Bard to distract her and, maybe, with him to talk to. If his suspicions were correct - though they seldom were, to be honest - he was the closest thing that the withdrawn Drow had to a friend in the caravan now that Celeste was dead. Which brought him to his next thought.

He drew a deep breath. Was it a good idea to bring her ideas of revenge back up? If there was a potential that she had moved on at least a little, with a new companion to show for it, reminding her of her destructive desire for vengeance was a very bad thing. On the other hand he had promised to help her (by minimizing the damages in her spree) and to do that he needed to know what she was planning, if she was planning something. He decided to approach the topic obliquely. "So." He carefully began. "Would it be presumptuous of me to ask what your plans are?"

"Nah." She said with a slight shrug. "I sort of have an end-goal in mind, but I have no idea how I'm going to pull it off." Ashyr explained with complete honesty. If she waited long enough, she might only need to walk up to the city and take him if her people managed to occupy Port Afon. That would be a risk, however, as he may simply die an honorable death at the hands of a drow army. Or someone might take him as their own. That was hardly satisfactory. "I am no human who goes running into something like this. True vengeance takes time and planning."

"Time and planning, hmm?" Caleldir said with amusement. "I am very young, (well, sort of) but I think that one of the biggest advantages of being an elf and having one of the short-lived races as an enemy is that it is fully possible to simply wait for them to die on their own. I heard one story about a very lazy and very patient dragon who shapeshifted himself to live among humans, and dealt with all of the people he did not like by simply waiting for them to drop dead of old age. Of course, I doubt that that is your plan here." There was something odd about her manner, a mixture of surety and worry that he could not place. If he had been Gurzan, he would have assumed that she was hiding something. But he was not, and so he simply shrugged it off. It was probably his imagination.

Bard by then had successfully eluded Fucking with the hunk of meat in his teeth. He pranced up to the elves at the edge of the campsite and dropped the dirty, slobber-covered morsel in front of Ashyr. Her nose crinkled slightly with disgust. "Good job, Bard." She nudged the meat back at him with her toe. "You have it, boy. Go on. I have food." If something could die of happiness, the wolf had a very good shot at it.

Looking down, he noted Bard's extreme happiness about the meat. "You seem to have acquired the most joyful wolf ever to live." He observed.

Ashyr looked down at her wolf with a frown. She wondered about that beast, really. "I suspect that he may have had a master at some point. Or at least that he grew up around people. He acts more like a dog than a wolf. I sincerely hope he calms down. Hard to keep up a good brooding sulk with him like this." She responded with a completely deadpan expression. Ashyr patted the beast on the head. Bard tried to lick her hand.

With Ashyr's deadpan about the difficulty of brooding with little Bard around, Caleldir had to stop himself from laughing out loud. Instead, he returned the deadpan. "Oh yes. We cannot have that. Actually being happy might ruin your carefully maintained dark mystique." He finished the rest of his meal, then stood up. "Anyway, when you need my help in the whole 'cheating death' area, let me know. For my part, I am ready to begin training in ways to not die all the time whenever you are ready to teach me. There is only so much that you can learn from books, and Gurzan tells me that he is to old to be a teacher. Frankly, I think that he is just being lazy."

"I've never trained anyone before. I guess you're a good person to start with. If I accidentally kill you it won't be such a big deal."

"I suppose that you are right. Killing or injuring me is a not a permanent problem. I can recover from anything but a decapitation, I think. As long as we avoid that, we are good."

Her attention stayed mostly on the dog in front of her, but she glanced up at him with a brief yet wicked grin. "What was it you were so resistant to, cold iron?" With that, she stood and disappeared into the forest. The wolf picked up what was left of the meat and sprinted after her. The rest of the encampment looked about ready to leave as well. Artur was making it clear that they should hurry to safety; there was no telling what Lord Faust would try to do to get them back into his jail.

A rather indefinable expression, most likely consternation, spread across Caleldir's face when Ashyr mentioned Cold Iron. "Yeah... Fey do not do well with Cold Iron. It prevents me from instantly regenerating minor damage. Of course, magic has the same effect." Since Ashyr was already, mostly, gone, he said most of that more to himself than anyone else.

The rest of the day, Caleldir spent doing his guard duty, which, as usual, was rather dull work. This was good though, since they had already had enough Exciting back in Port Afon, and were actively running from that Exciting right now.

This time, the drow showed up just as the troop found a place to rest for the night. Over her shoulder, she carried a yearling buck, which she flopped unceremoniously onto the ground directly in front of Fucking. The little goblin had proven himself as a handy butcher and cook if you helped him with the heavy stuff. After all, the food he was used to help make was fit for a Lord.

Then, looking only a little bit weary, she grabbed a couple of sturdy-looking sticks about the length of a sword. She approached Caleldir and handed him one of them. "Time to learn how to fight, boy." Her words were almost taunting, but she looked to be in fairly good humor.

Caleldir welcomed Ashyr's arrival with (concealed) joy, since his time with her always had the effect of breaking the monotony.

He took the stick that she handed him. To test it, he experimentally swung it around. "Sparring, I suppose? Makes sense." He struck a textbook-perfect opening stance from some really ancient style. Probably literally textbook: since that is where he had learned it from.