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. 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. All characters that engage in sexual or suggestive situations are mentally and sexually mature: the human equivalent of 18 for their race.
*****
Episode 113: Ceremony
On the day of the ceremony, about a half-hour before the event was to take place, the invited noble drow in simple robes and their attendants began to arrive at the cave-manor of Duskhaven. Tsabdrin, as the only known surviving male of the house, was tasked with the duty of escorting people to where they needed to go and placing their discarded garments in an organized closet. Selene had also convinced Sornamal to assist Tsabdrin with his duties, citing the fact that a former Consort sometimes did have a part in the ceremony of the following Consort if he was still alive. Both father and son were allowed clothing during their tasks, which made both of them far more comfortable with their duties.
Caleldir and Abanonda were waiting in the wings. Caleldir, of course, was extremely nervous, Ms. Blackdawn far less so.
"It is a pity that we have had so little time together to talk," Abanonda said cheerfully to Caleldir as she shrugged out of the robe that was her only garment. "My Great-Great-Great Grandmother Nirza, though I never met her, wrote a lot about you. We all grew up hearing stories about the Master Librarian who had trained Matriarch Nirza in magic, who now was a cursed ghost. We did send in several expeditions to try to save you, but they never worked. Old Goelon was too powerful and sadistic." Her hands went to the straps on his shirt, then pressed in to interrupt his clothing rune (Althaia had told her about that).
"Sorry about that," Caleldir said with a bit of shame, and not just from his nudity. He tried not to stare at the naked drow woman. She was closer to Althaia's dark elven disguise than she was to an ordinary drow, with that painful, near unearthly faerie attractiveness about her. "Nirza and Faraia were amazing students."
"Ah, Faraia," Abanonda shook her head. "She ended up more attached to your legend than Nirza is, due to, well..."
"I know," Caleldir said gloomily.
Sensing the sadness and guilt in Caleldir's voice, Abanonda quickly changed the topic. "But that is in the past, the long past. Seeing you now, it is difficult to think of you as just a tragic legend." She looked up and down Caleldir's naked form. "And I can see why the ancient Matriarch had a crush on you. Even if you were wearing clothes back then."
Caleldir blushed, but Abanonda just giggled, surprisingly girlishly given her usual demeanor. "Do not be embarrassed. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Not personally. The ancient Blackdawns adopted you for what you did for Nirza, and now I am honored to call you cousin."
That drew a genuine, fond smile of remembrance from Caleldir. "And I am honored to call you sister as well."
Abanonda swallowed and pulled Caleldir into a tight embrace. It was as chaste and familial as could be between two very naked members of opposite sexes, but when Ms. Blackdawn pulled away, the desire in her eyes, and the sheen of moisture between her legs, showed that it was a struggle for her to keep it so. The drow woman drew several deep breaths, then slapped herself.
"Too many women already around him. Far too many," she muttered to herself. Another deep breath, then a smile.
Caleldir had decided that the most diplomatic thing to do would be to pretend to not notice Abanonda's little struggle.
The hall began to fill with people and the polite, soft murmurs of them amusing themselves with conversation. At the appointed time, Dahlia strutted out in all her naked, full-succubus glory from a side-passage near the main platform. "If you would all kindly draw your conversations to a close, the ceremony will begin shortly." Then she stood off to one side with an expectant grin on her face.
A minute or so later, Dahlia's voice again rang through the now quieted hall. "The High Priestess Hadlyn Oliriy," she announced and watched as the Priestess made her way down the aisle at a stately speed with respectful music accompanying her. Hadlyn took her place at the center of the platform just behind the table where Caleldir was to lie, then shrugged off her shining white robe to let it puddle on the floor behind her. "The Lady Ashyr Duskhaven, Matron of Duskhaven," was the next announcement, followed by Ashyr similarly walking down the aisle (trying to hide a grin) and taking her place at the foot of the raised mattress. Then she, too, slipped out of her robes and into nudity. "The Ladies of Duskhaven: Selene and Sidhriia." They followed the other two's path and stood next to Dahlia. When they shed their robes, Ylene quietly took her place beside the obviously and very heavily pregnant Selene.
Then it was time for Caleldir to be escorted down. The music changed, and Dahlia made the announcement: "The Lady Abanonda Blackdawn, and her Consort gift to Duskhaven!"
"Well, shall we go?" Abanonda asked.
"Yes, let us head on in," Caleldir said in a resigned tone.
Abanonda took his arm and the two stepped out into the aisle.