Chapter 4 - Untended Plots Need a Hand Before They Grow Wild
The next three days were spent in uncertainty. The king left to continue the conquering of his new realm, leaving Arisselia and Elli alone in his tent. He did not return that first night, and when the queen noticed the farmgirl's sleepless anticipation had turned into anxiety, she invited the younger woman into her bed.
A robed and hooded form came to check on them every morning, quietly inquiring if the queen required anything for the day before sending in those little monsters with offerings of food. But otherwise, they were undisturbed and unhassled. It seemed being in his harem did offer protections, and Arisselia reminded them both to be grateful for that particular blessing.
To pass the time, and draw Elli's thoughts away from anxious musings, the queen began teaching her to read and write in a proper tongue and not in the provincial manner of farmers. The hooded figure brought books, including one on magical theory, which allowed the queen to begin teaching the woman the ancient language of true spellworking.
"What's the point of all this?" Elli harrumphs on the third day, fingers aching from clenching around the awkwardly carved graphite.
"The point," the queen stops pacing to sit down beside her, "is that you lack the necessary skills to compete. He'll be bringing back more women soon, and your naiveté and eagerness won't be enough to entice him."
The girl slumped onto the low table that had become her work desk. "That sort of thing won't matter if he intends to get every last one pregnant again and again until we die."
"It's true, that's certainly a risk. However, I've got my suspicions. He spoke of his mother having relationships with her children, which means they're not in the custom of taking away the babies as soon as they can walk on their own. He seems to be fine with my... personality... and that you're teachable, not stupid. He wouldn't praise you for that if it didn't matter somewhat. That means there is some value to him in having a semi-autonomous harem capable of teaching their children. It's not uncommon for rulers to be judged by their ability to draw intelligent and talented women to their side, even if they don't have sex with all of them."
Elli carefully tried to spell out "semi atonomus" on her vocab list to ask about later before speaking honestly. "Even if he finds a hundred sorceresses, I just want him to look my way sometimes. But what do you want?"
Arisselia blew out a breath. "Freedom, obviously. I've always hated chains and contracts and men who think you belong to them, especially when all they bring to the table is nice dick. But, I'm not certain I'll be able to escape this time. And if he really does take out the Holy Knights, I think my only chance will be making a deal with him. Pop out a brat, perhaps, and then offer to assist in other ways."
"Children aren't that bad."
"Says the girl that already had to raise what, five?"
"Two and a half. Mattias was already seven when Ma died, so that wasn't as difficult as the babes."
"Broomsticks and beeswax, I could never stand a peasant life. Or the idea of having something that tiny depending on me. I barely even want to talk to anyone under the age of 15." Elli snorts at the older woman's declarations, and the lessons resume until supper arrives.
The lessons don't end there though. They eat in a soft silence as Elli tries to make it through another chapter of the book she's been assigned. Finding yet another word she doesn't know, she reaches for her graphite to write it down and winces as her forearm cramps.
"Come here." The queen has noticed, and now gestures for the farmgirl to join her on the bed. Elli gets her legs situated to the side of her rear, handing over her writing hand at the queen's gentle insistence. "It's an entirely different skill from what you're used to, I expect."
"It's why I don't let the darning pile up. Too much sewing at once does the same thing." Elli wiggles her fingers, hoping that the sensation passes soon.
Arisselia has other ideas. She pours something between her own hands, warms it, before gliding her palms over Elli's forearm and hand. Oil, the younger woman realizes quickly as skilled fingers work into the aching muscle.
"I think you've studied enough for today. Though there are other things you can learn about tonight." The oil is deliciously warming, and her fingers glide along easily, relieving the strain and tension. "Are you familiar with massage? Because my shoulders and hips are killing me from sitting on the floor for so long."
The request is about as subtle as a hungry chicken. "I can get a knot or two out, but..."
"I'll talk you through it. And then you can surprise him if he comes back."
"Do you think he'd like it?"
Arisselia has her hooked, and she knows it. She takes her time to finish massaging Elli's arm and hand before laying on her belly on the bed. "Start with warming the oil."
Elli listens to each of the sorceress's instructions, working the oil over her flawless skin, getting a feel for the muscles and tensions of her back and shoulders. As she's finishing, gently warming the skin with sweeping movements of her hands, she gets a naughty idea.
"You said your hips hurt too, right?" Elli adds more oil to her palms, maybe a little too much. She's been staring at the queen's gently rounded behind this whole time, sitting back on it just to reach the woman's shoulders. Impulsively, she cups the buttocks with her warm hands. "Should I massage here as well?"
"Girl," The queen swallows hard before parting her legs a smidge. "You may massage wherever you wish."
Is this what power feels like? Elli wonders. The queen's rear is pliant under her hands, and she makes oddly arousing noises whenever the excess oil drips down too far. From this angle, the mound between her thighs resembles the petals of a closed flower, glistening with the stray drops of oil. Elli's hands swoop over her narrow hips, rubbing away from the spine a few times in an attempt to keep her own attention from straying.
But the bounce of the queen's ass draws her gaze back to the folds.
"Um, Arisselia? My queen?"
The woman raises her head to look back at the farmgirl playing with her cheeks. "Yes, Elli?"
"H-how does one prepare for... sex?"
The queen turns away to hide a triumphant look, and maybe Elli wasn't the only one who missed being touched. "It's much like a massage, dear. Spread oil over the skin in the private areas, the more the better. And work it into every groove and nook and cranny."
"And the birthing canal?"
"Of course. Or the asshole if one is so inclined."
Elli bites her tongue to avoid asking why that would ever be necessary.
Trembling fingers reach for the oil jar. Coated well, Elli carefully wipes the queen's folds with her hand before opening up the petals. She'd never seen another woman's body quite like this before, was too young to assist in her siblings' births. She wonders if this is how her mound looks too, all delicate petals and a little hooded nub. She earns a delightful moan for rubbing that, and the bigger hole, right near the top where the petals meet and the buttocks begin, moves all on its own.
"Can I..."
"Goddesses above and below, girl! If you don't bring me to climax, I'll teach you a real lesson!"
Oh! Arisselia had never raised her voice like that before. It's so filled with need and frustration that Elli doesn't mind the threat. Kinda sounds like it could be a fun lesson actually. Still, Elli works an oiled finger into the fluttering hole, pushing inside and wiggling it around to make sure the birthing canal is well-lubricated.
"Elli..." The queen whimpers. "Three, your hands are smaller than a man's, so I can take three fingers, and keep rubbing my clit."
The farmgirl slips her other hand under the woman's mound, sliding her fingers up to catch the reddened nub she had found earlier. The queen grinds her hips into the motion, and Elli pulls her other finger out of her canal.
"Three?"
"Yes... dammit."
Feeling like a child that's been allowed to hold a bag of sweets, she curls her hand slightly and presses four fingertips into the empty hole. They glide inside all the way up to where her thumb meets her palm.
"Oh fuck! That's the whole bleeding broomstick!" Arisselia cries out, but her muscles squeeze tight around the half of the girl's hand inside her.
"Too much? I'm sorry, I..."
"Elli, no. Keep at it!" The queen moans into her pillow.
Thick fluid coats her fingers as she slowly pulls them out and glides them back in, her other fingers squeezing the swollen nub. Every sound that escapes the queen, even the way her hips shift to help, guides Elli in her own movements until the older woman's body tightens like a taut thread. Elli thrusts her fingers faster, and the thread snaps.
