"It is the decision of this council to be merciful in its punishment, given the circumstance."
The words still echoed in Ash's memory. Only a week had passed since his exile to the Elf Lands and it had nearly turned into a death sentence twice. Both patrols of the diminutive Elf-kin were too big for him to handle alone, but neither spotted him. Thanks to the skirmishes and invasions of Humanity over the last couple years, attrition was taking its toll on the males of the race. The patrols were few and far between these days, and, if the last two were any indication, they were being filled out with more and more of the buxom Elven women.
It was a sad thing, he thought, to realize that a warrior of his tribe couldn't handle four or five of the smaller enemy. After all, the tallest Elf in the last patrol barely reached his elbow, and the woman they'd had along could fill many a lonely night. Ash guessed she'd been just over waist height to him, willowy, with fair brown hair and a full chest. While he watched the patrol, it had been hard not to imagine her lips wrapped 'round his growing phallus. His brother'd once told him that Elf women were small and tight inside, buy wouldn't break no matter how big their partner was. That was right before . . . no, better to forget that. Anyway, Ash didn't believe that story. He'd had to kill two of the men already and, well, his little finger would do a better job than their organs. Maybe they magic-ed themselves, though. That was one reason he avoided the patrol. Elves had magic and he did not.
As the Human kept moving through the trees, he thought wistfully of his friend Zeroun. Together, with the other man's magic, they could take on any patrol of Elves, more if their mutual friend Iiyas was with them. That line of though brought Ash back to his exile. Neither friend was here, neither bore, or ought to bear, the shame of his crime and banishment. He neither asked nor expected that of either of them, though he knew both would gladly die to save him. As he would for them. Perhaps that was the worst part of his exile, being separated from his childhood friends, friends who were practically brothers to him. Like the brother he'd . . . no, enough of that. But everything came back to his crime. the last few days, it felt like nothing would take that memory away, even for a few minutes.
Suddenly, Ash passed into a clearing and all thought of his brother, his exile, and his crime fled like a shadow before the sun.
There, in a small pooling of a stream, sat a vision he never thought to see. Golden waves of hair spilled down the pale, bare, back of a slender Elf. The Human was certain, in that moment, that the Elf was truly just that, and that it was a woman. Fortunately, her back was turned, because he stood transfixed for a few heartbeats. Then he backed silently into the trees. Ash kept his eyes roaming around the tiny clearing, looking for any escort, though he kept returning to the back of the oblivious bather.
After a minute of two, he crouched to lay his spear and sword on the forest floor. So far, he'd seen no sign of any escort. Nor had the Elf seemed to notice his presence. As she moved a little in the water, singing to herself softly in a language he did not recognize, Ash spotted a pile of fabric that he decided must be her clothing. He gauged the distances quickly and shifted his position. She was still closer, but he had a good foot or two of height to his advantage. he felt confident that he could get between the woman and her discarded clothes fast enough. That would keep her at a disadvantage and he could find out where the nearest village was, to avoid it. Until he caught her, though, he'd have to move fast and hit hard, who knew if there was anyone to hear if she screamed. With that thought in mind, Ash took a couple silent steps into the clearing. He tried to keep himself centered behind her so she wouldn't spot him. His mind ran through prayers to any god who might be listening to keep the Elf singing and not to let her turn around. They, of course, were not listening.
He moved five, maybe six, steps into the clearing when tow things happened at almost the same instant. Without thinking, his attention focused on her, Ash sidestepped to his left, bringing his foot down harder than he'd intended. The resulting crack of a stick seemed to echo in his ears. It also caused the Elf maid to whip herself around into a faster turn. For a lone heartbeat, their eyes locked, the Elf's lips parting in an "o" of surprise. Ash stood stunned for a few seconds, watching the still moving flesh of her ample chest settle, his eyes drifting over a flat stomach to her neatly trimmed pubic region.
The faint beginnings of a sound rose through her throat, and broke Ash out of his admiring trance. He leapt forward, diving to reach her before the sound could escape her lips. Just a few more inches, he could almost feel her flawlessly smooth skin beneath his fingertips . . .
. . . and knew as he bowled into her, landing both of them in the water, that he'd been too slow. The Elf has managed a brief scream, though he choked it off only half-uttered. Still, that could bring others. Levering himself up, looming over her, Ash delivered a sharp, stinging, backhand blow to the maiden's temple. She collapsed limp beneath him, silent.