Author's note:
This story is set in a fantasy world, not a Sci-Fi one. If you found this story because you read my series Lost Colony then just know that the setting and themes are different. It's also shorter, a little lighter on story, and heavier on sex than a typical Lost Colony chapter. So, if that's something you like, enjoy!
This story is fictional. All characters are over age eighteen.
Thanks for reading!
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"Come along, daughter. We've a ways yet to go."
Liriel wasn't quite ready to leave the glen where she and her companions had stopped for a rest. The mossy ground, ancient, drooping trees, and the sweet little stream were too lovely, too enticing. Ignoring her mother, the princess leaned over the stream. With a simple spell she charmed the water to a mirror-like calm, tugged her hair back, and admired her reflection.
The young woman peering back at her was nothing short of beautiful. Liriel knew that pride was a weakness, but surely acknowledging her unrivaled beauty was simply accepting a fact. Large, almond-shaped eyes gazed past wavy strands of auburn hair. Creamy skin was on particularly generous display today, smooth and unmarked except where faint sprinklings of freckles graced her cheeks and bosom. Even among the Elves, a race known for their delicate, almost ethereal beauty, Liriel was exceptionally blessed.
"Now!" her mother snapped, impatience rising in her voice. Like most of the others in their clan, the Queen was on edge today.
"Yes, Mother," Liriel sighed. She stood, brushed the few leaves from her gown, and rejoined her family as they took once again to the trail. "I don't know why we couldn't rest a little longer here," she said, allowing just a touch of petulance into her voice. "A little boot magic and we could still make the Bedding on time."
"You'll need your magic today," the Queen said. "We don't know this prince they're sending. He may require more weakening than usual."
"That's not what I hear," Sheelin said. Liriel didn't usually welcome her younger sister's involvement in her affairs, but it was kind of her to offer support. "I hear he's not that strong. Big, but weak-willed."
"Where did you hear that?" the queen asked. She cocked her head to look suspiciously at her younger daughter.
"Oh, just rumors I guess." The girl kept her lips pressed tightly together as if fighting off a smile.
Liriel knew the truth. Sheelin and some of the other young women had taken to spying on the Men, even disregarding Elven tradition to walk openly among them. Idly, Liriel wondered if her younger sister had dared even more than that. It wouldn't be surprising. The girl was ever disrespectful.
The Queen didn't press the issue, turning instead to her older daughter. "Tell me, Liriel, how did the tradition of the Bedding come to be?"
"Are you testing me, mother? Every child knows the story."
"You aren't 'every child', Liriel. When the time comes you will be made queen. The Bedding is part of clan lore and you will be expected to teach your own children."
Liriel rolled her eyes but dutifully began the tale. "The first Bedding was two hundred years ago. The kingdoms of Men and Elves had already been in conflict for hundreds of years. Elves, with our magic, are swift and sure in battle, but Men are strong, and breed quickly. The war was destructive to both sides." She began to warm to the story. They had at least another hour to walk before they reached the grove. Retelling the history of the Bedding would calm her mother, and help keep Sheelin's mouth shut, too.
"So the two kingdoms met to see if a truce could be made. At the heart of the conflict were the rich forests that both Men and Elves coveted, the same lands we are walking through now."
"Yes, good," the Queen said softly. "Both kingdoms need the timber, hunting grounds, and water for their survival and growth."
"The Human King," Liriel continued, "was sure that love would serve both sides. He proposed that every twenty years the Men would send a prince, and the Elves a princess. They would meet, and whoever fell the most in love would accompany the other back to their lands. The King thought that with some Elves living among Men, and some Men among Elves, the two kingdoms would grow close."
"And did it turn out that way?"
Liriel smiled smugly. "No. The Elves suggested two conditions. The first was that each prince or princess, when they went to another kingdom, would take with them title to a portion of their lands. The Human King agreed, thinking that over time it would even out."
"And what was the other condition that we, the Elves, requested?" the Queen asked.
This, to Liriel and most of the other young Elven women, was the most intriguing part of the tale. "We asked that lust be used as a proxy for love. The prince or princess most filled with desire would return to the other kingdom." She resisted the urge to clarify that 'most filled with desire' meant whoever climaxed first.
"And since then?"
The Princess's smile grew even broader. "No Elven princess has ever been more filled with lust than the prince who took her to bed."
Sheelin snorted, before quickly trying to conceal her outburst.
"My daughter!" the Queen chided sharply. "This is a serious matter. Just because we have never lost women or lands in the Bedding doesn't mean we don't need to be vigilant."
"My apologies," Sheelin said graciously. Then, so low that only Liriel could hear her, added "You'll have no trouble with this one. You might even enjoy it."
Liriel tried not to react, but inside she reeled with shock. Even to suggest that a coupling between an Elf and a Human might be pleasurable went against their teachings. That Liriel herself would have to lay with a Man as part of the Bedding was considered a great sacrifice by her people, a burden only one of high birth might be asked to endure. Was Sheelin being uncharacteristically supportive, or had the girl dallied with the forbidden?
The Queen spoke, sparing Liriel further thought on the matter. "Have you readied your weakening spells?"
"Yes, Mother," the princess assured her. She had studied little else the past few weeks. The prince, by the time he reached the grove, would be helpless before her charms.
At this point in the journey, their path skirted the edge of the plateau where the Bedding would take place. The party of Men would approach from below. "Here, look," her mother said, gesturing toward the plains beyond. "Over the past two hundred years, we have all but pushed them from the forests. In a hundred more we will own the richest lands entirely."
Liriel understood. Every twenty years another Human prince would succumb, taken as no more than a slave to the Elven kingdom. Each brought with him another parcel of the remaining forest their people held. Soon the kingdoms of Men would be left with little more than scrub and arid plain.
"I think I see them!" Sheelin was peering over the edge of the plateau. "There!"
The little party stopped to gaze upon the converging path that rose from the plains below. As Sheelin said, a group of Men was trudging along the trail, leaving a haze of dust in their wake. That they were on foot was another brilliant concession that the Elves insisted upon. They had, a century earlier, claimed that the site of the Bedding was a sacred grove that no tamed animal could approach. Men were skilled at breaking and training horses. By forcing them to fatigue themselves by walking instead, the Elves preserved their advantage.
"There is King Eddard," the Queen said, pointing to an aging man who led the way. The patriarch carried himself with dignity, but his robes were already dusty from the road. Nor was his pace particularly swift. An Elf at age seventy was still strong. For Eddard, who had seen at least that many years, the journey would be exhausting.
"And there's the Prince!" Sheelin said.
Two young men followed behind the King, but the one Sheelin had pointed out must be the Prince. Attired just as richly as his King, but in gleaming ceremonial armor, the young man was practically a caricature of Human strength. He was taller than any Elf and broader of shoulder. Unruly brown hair spilled from under his helmet. An imposing broadsword hung at his belt.
The second man, walking a respectful half step behind the Prince, was scantly less imposing. A touch shorter than his companion, he was also leaner. Instead of heavy ceremonial armor, he was adorned in supple leather more suited to the hunt than a ceremony.
"Is the second one also a prince?" Liriel asked.
"Likely not," the Queen said. "Notice his modest attire, and position behind the first. He might have some trace of royal blood, but looks to be a servant or squire."
Liriel nodded quietly. "Here?"
"It's a good spot," the Queen admitted. "Weaken him here, and again at the grove. We'll take no chances."