Elan Pt 01 Atop The World

Author's Note: Elan takes place months after the events of Luck and Custom, with the same characters. I'd advise starting there first for appropriate character development; this story assumes you've read both. (It goes Luck -> Custom -> Elan)

If you're not in the mood to read of romance or dark mind control (read: not sexy) I advise turning back now. For everyone else, enjoy Part 3 of the Talos of Evora series.

Atop the World

----

Talos and Casiama gazed up at the bright, lively night sky beneath the many furs of their shared sleeping bag, his arm wrapped around her head as they lay with legs entwined, naked.

It was a cold night, the first month of winter coming early high atop the world in the near-uninhabited frontier of northern Isbrygga. The soft and lazy wind let flakes of white drift a while before settling onto the snow-packed ground, a ground which all the region would be covered in this time of year. The pair had ended up selling their horses to a local merchant before the far trek north, the animals deemed unsuitable for traveling through the deep snow banks they had so far encountered.

Large bands of green light danced and weaved in the night sky above the pair. Casiama gazed with wonder, finding herself thinking that it was the most beautiful sight in all the aetherius. She whispered to her companion in amazement.

"How can you

not

believe in the gods during moments like this," she sighed to Talos, coming off of a post-coital bliss as she breathed deeply.

Talos smirked, knowing Casiama didn't want him to answer truthfully. The truth was, of course, that he was merely a lucky man. He made his own destiny where he could, but sometimes the world just lets you win for no good reason. Just like his chance meeting of Casiama, back in the wilderness of the Imperial borderlands when she had tried to kill him and Alanna, his then-lover.

But Talos didn't feel that luck or chance was the will of some invisible omnisciences in the sky. Sometimes the cards just fell as they did, to no rhyme or reason. There were countless individuals far less lucky than he who suffered for no greater purpose. And Talos couldn't ever see himself worshipping divines who allowed so much of that misfortune to exist.

His eyes hadn't left the bright, undulating lights above them as he responded to his elven lover.

"Oh, I don't know Cass. It looks more like sand brushing against the sky's roof to me," he joked to her, glad that the elf had the patience to overlook not just his godlessness, but also his bad jests.

Casiama let out a short, pitiful laugh before giggling, "You're impossible, Talos."

The man smirked.

Perhaps he was.

He shifted towards her under the furs, running his hands along her trim, toned waist.

"And what of you, Cass? Do you truly believe this display to be the world's life ring?"

Casiama did not reply immediately. A man's eyes were on hers as they danced over the sky's display with an impetuous joy. His heart fluttered to the sight, a sympathetic beat entwining with an elf's under the heavens.

"No," the princess cooed. A lithe hand fell atop Talos', stroking his fingers as he caressed her midriff. He pressed his lower half against her willowy thighs.

"For if it was, it would not just appear here in the north, and would be visible elsetime than the winter," she explained seriously. Talos could feel her breaths calming the longer she watched the sky, and decided to let her rest a minute. She whispered her next words. "Although it's nice to dream, isn't it?"

Talos smirked and pecked her soft cheek, getting a happy grin in response.

"You know, for an elf... you're not very poetic, Casiama," he chided softly. This got her attention, or at least forced her to shift towards him. She slipped a lithe leg between his own muscular pair as they tangled together further.

"Says the human brute," she giggled. "And what, dare I ask, makes you the judge of poetry and song, my love?"

"

I

happen to be quite poetic," he replied just about as seriously as one could expect in such a situation. The princess chortled, kissing him again, and finally stared into him.

"I wouldn't believe that in a thousand lifetimes, Talos," she said sweetly, lovingly. He sought to prove it, even if her disbelief was correctly placed. His eyes flickered behind her radiant form for just a second before settling on her twinkling orbs once more.

"Oh yeah, Cass? Then what of snow? How would an elf poetically attribute that which seeks to envelop us now, as we lay here?"

"What of

snow

?" she teased, not understanding his ask. Her hand -- which was wrapped around his neck -- stroked the man's hair, letting flakes of said snow drift freely from it.

Talos grinned. He slowly, softly scraped his nails atop her womanly hips, her trim waist, up towards her perfect breasts. He swirled them there over her nipple, taking in her almost imperceptible shiver, before continuing.

"Snow. The blanket cast down from the heavens to wrap a beautiful world's upper regions, to grant its form a sense of beauty even in the harshest season. A frost designed to keep ground and the forests beautiful in its chilling comfort, even as each lose their own clothes."

Casiama giggled ruthlessly while rolling atop him, pressing her willowy form against his strength as the man was forced to his back. He brought his hands to her backside, giving her cheeks a playful squeeze.

"That's not

poetry

, Talos. That's just the truth," she chided before planting a dry kiss atop his lips. "You truly are a brute, my everything."

Talos smirked as he gazed into her eyes, not caring of what she spoke. As long as she did. Casiama whispered to him reverently a moment later.

"Snow is... sympathy. A mysterious sympathy, granted to us mortals by the gods. A mysterious compassion, which is not granted to conceal or to hide. Nay, its kindness is that it provides us mortals our own heaven to stride upon. It brings the clouds to our feet, rather than keep them suspended greedily above our heads. And only in the harshest season do the gods show this particular sympathy, letting us mortals dance for but a moment as they do all the time. And what a magical dance it is, Talos."

Fuck.

Talos grinned.

"That's not poetry either, Cass. That's just nonsense." The princess gasped, bringing a gentle hand to his rough face for a slap.

"It is too poetry!"

Talos let his hands fall to her sides, tickling her playfully in physical defiance.

"You're impossible, Talos!" she screamed as she squirmed to his touch. He let her rest after a minute, enjoying her athletic form pant wildly against his chest.

"And yet you love me," he whispered.

"And yet I love you," was all the elven masterpiece could reply before the man rolled back on top of her, kissing her thin lips as he moved. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, the elf moaning in wordless response as they met once more, just one example of thousands. A minute or three of jousting had occurred before Casiama had found the will to push him away, feeling a part of him rise against her inner thigh.

"W-wait! I'm not ready just yet. You just ruined me not ten minutes ago," she admitted, biting her lip as she stared into his eyes. She felt one of his rough hands reach down her form, as if testing the veracity of her statement.

Talos pinched her clit softly before extending two fingers into her sensitive folds, monitoring every lustful reaction on her face. Everything seemed to be in order.

"Are you telling me no, Casiama?" he teased with a smirk. She shook her head, pecking him on the lips once before refusing to support herself any longer, dropping to the fur under him.

"No, no! Just... go slow this time. Okay?"

"Are you saying I finished too quickly?" Another tease, she knew. The princess could see it in his eyes and lips.

"You're impossible, Talos," Casiama giggled with a coy smile. She held the expression for only a second before her lover re-entered her once more, showing no sign of mercy as he thrust in to the hilt. Casiama brought her hands to his shoulders as he ravaged her, losing sight of the Lady's beautiful lights above as her eyes fluttered shut in pleasure.

--

They ventured south back through the still, frozen wilderness the next morning. Talos found his footsteps sinking much further into the snow than the dainty prints of Casiama, who was fifty yards ahead scouting the way.

The elf had fantastic senses, which Talos now had come to rely on. Her thin, green eyes were ten times stronger than any man's, and could detect threats as far as the horizon would let her. On top of that, her pointed ears could pick on the snapped twigs caused by hopping bunnies a mile away, even in the muted surroundings of a snowed-in landscape.

Casiama always scouted the way ahead for him now. Talos watched her lithe, willowy body move with impossible grace and beauty, her hips swaying gently as if dancing without end with the cold breeze. He ducked low when he noticed her abruptly pause in front of him.

Casiama was in a low crouch now, straddling the top of a snow-plastered hill with ears swiveling to pick up any noises. She signaled her lover to join her five seconds later, hearing nothing. Talos trudged through the snow to meet her, noticing the elf's prints only sank half an inch into the white carpet of ice.

"What's up?" Talos asked as he neared her. She pointed over into the distance, Talos not immediately picking up on her target as she helped him assess the situation.

"White smoke ahead," she answered in a soft whisper, "Probably a small town. Know anything of it?" While the elf held all the natural abilities required to lead them through a hostile wilderness, Casiama frequently found herself falling back onto Talos' knowledge of all things civilized.

The elven princess felt that the man had already been everywhere already, and had experienced all the world's beauty before having thirty-three years of age. She took his words to heart each time he spoke, and found herself madly falling for him the longer they traveled together. Not that this was a problem to her, of course.

"Yeah. That's the Thanedom of Vitvarg, or 'White Wolf' to us," he answered, adding the translation for her in their shared elven language. A few realms of man -- including the massive Empire of man which dominated half the known world -- had adopted the language of the elves many centuries ago to better trade with them, and slowly lost their own language in natural response. The elven language was much simpler to speak and write, after all.

"Years ago I helped the chief there find his lost son out in the wilderness. Almost lost my arm to a bear," he continued, noticing the elf's mocking raise of her eyebrow.

"It was a really big bear Cass," he added with a flourish, weakly justifying his past idiocy. "Anyway, we should both receive welcome hospitality there. Maybe even a hot meal or three."

Casiama smiled and nodded, content with her lover's explanation of the sight she had seen. Her lips still curled with amusement at the former statement.

"Are you too weak to handle just one bear, my love?" she pestered impishly, bringing a dainty hand to her mouth. Talos rolled his eyes.

"It was a big... big bear," he repeated with more enthusiasm, stretching his arms out as wide as they could go. She giggled sweetly again, her ears perking up playfully. She skipped along the top of the snow, holding her hands behind her back as she spun on her heel towards Talos.

"The Lady tested you, Talos. I will thank her on my ascendance for not finding you wanting that day."

Talos tilted his head, smirking at her naturally-enchanting playfulness. "And how many snow bears has the glorious princess slain, Cass? They're not simple creatures like the ones around Tor Valliya."

He began to walk again, feet sliding into the snow on each step. Casiama's eyes fluttered skyward as she continued to skip childishly four paces ahead of him.

"A few. What furs do you think our sleeping bags are made from, silly?"

Talos frowned. "You've... hunted all of those furs yourself?" Casiama nodded with a smile.

"It would have been heathenous to let them go to waste. We're all subjects of the Lady, Talos. Even those with claws and fangs," she smiled as she walked backwards, watching the clumsy human trip through the snow. She continued talking as he struggled.

"My family would hunt every winter, between the planting seasons. Usually just around the city, but sometimes..." Casiama flickered her eyes behind Talos before finding his glowing green orbs once more. "sometimes further out. It's a rite of passage for royalty."

Casiama furrowed her brow, remembering the family that had cast her out, and felt the pangs of betrayal again.

"Mine did the same," Talos said, noticing her frown. "Although there wasn't much more than wolves in the forests of Evora. My father would demand that his male children be capable of bringing one down by the time we gained our fourteenth year of age. So in a way, it was a rite of passage for us as well."

Casiama smiled again, wondering what a Talos with fourteen years of age would have looked like. He must have been oh so adorably innocent. Innocently adorable.

"How well did you manage?" she asked calmly. His words always soothed her, and had already drawn her out of her dread spiral of thinking of home.

"Well, uh," Talos shrugged, "we hunted them from a saddle, and with long spears. It was never a fair fight for the wolf. I fared as well as any."

"Mmm," Casiama mumbled, spinning on her heel for a single rotation. She loved being out here, away from it all, but could certainly do without the cold.

She wondered what the people of these lands were like, having not encountered any of them on their trek so far. The pair had taken the northerly approach to Isbrygga from Tor Valliya, skipping the inhabited locales to the south. They hadn't conversed with another soul for months now, except for one another. Another thing the princess did not mind.

"Something on your mind, Cass?"

She shook her head, eyes fluttering to his. "You're my everything, Talos." The swordsman grinned, and his heart skipped a beat. Gods, was she pretty.

"You know I... I wouldn't know what to do if I didn't have you. I would have been exiled from my home with nowhere else to go," she whispered over the snow, heartfelt. Talos trudged towards the swaying beauty.

"I imagine you would have wandered. As I did. As we, um," he paused, extending his arms about as if displaying the emptiness surrounding them, "as we are doing now, even."

Casiama spun on her heel, taking in the white void around her. She felt as if Talos was her home, even if they were wandering. It did not matter where they were.

Talos continued speaking to console her. "And perhaps we would have encountered each other anyway. Perhaps without weapons drawn, even," he grinned. Casiama spun towards him again.

"I thought you said you were over that!" she exclaimed happily, sticking her tongue out at him.

Talos picked up his pace through the snow while staring intently at her, Casiama skipping faster to keep four paces ahead of him. "Get away from me, Talos!" she giggled.

Talos could not reach her, no matter how quickly he trudged. The snow between them was two feet deep, and the elf's light steps would make her the victor in any race. He bent over, gathering a hand full of snow in his gloved hand with a mischevious smirk. Casiama noticed.

"Oh I swear to the Lady, you will regret it if you get my hair wet!" she exclaimed with a pinch of nervousness. Talos shrugged before lobbing the ball of ice at her, the elf gracefully dancing around it with a giggle. She bent over to pick up her own ball of snow in her gloves, beset by her man approaching her with haste.

"No!" she giggled, hitting him in the face with her cold projectile. It did not slow him, and Casiama allowed herself to be captured by his embrace and fell to the ground with him. Talos puckered his lips, descending upon an elf who turned her face away from his.

"Regret... this..." she mewled, almost questioning herself in her voice. Casiama denied the man for a fleeting, helpless second before kissing him passionately under the cold sun atop their heavenly bed of ice.

--

The pair shared a midday meal of hardbread and jerky atop a lone rock that day. Their gazes were fixed upon the town to their south, a small town of twenty longhouses and two larger halls. Casiama rested her head on Talos' shoulder and a hand on his thigh.

"Tell me of them, Talos. The northerners," she whispered under her breath as she snuggled further into the man's neck. He pointed to the town.

"Those northerners?" he asked coyly.

"What others would I be asking of?" she gasped with feigned exasperation, lips settling into a smile. He tilted his lips to kiss her forehead between a bite of bread.

"The northerners differ wildly depending on where you are. For example, the Jarldom of Valpa, where we are now, still practices slavery unlike the Jarldom of Villjord to the west. In fact-"

"Slavery?!" Casiama asked abruptly, her head rising from his shoulder. "What of us? Why are we going there then?"

He shrugged, his voice filled with amusement. "It's on the way. You need to accept these things if you're going to travel with me, Cass."

The princess wasn't convinced. "But what if they try to enslave

us

, Talos?" she asked weakly.

He turned towards her, spitting out bits of hardbread as he laughed. "They won't, dear. It's a ritualistic thing, I think. Only those taken in raids on their neighbors are enslaved. The Thane of Vitvarg had told me years ago it's more to prevent inbreeding than anything else, since marriages between the different thanedoms are rare."

"It's

barbaric,

" Casiama declared with a whisper.

"It's life," he replied curtly with a shrug.

"A life of barbarism! And I thought you were the champion of slaves, Talos? Like that story you told me and Alanna, back in the borderlands. Of freeing the slaves of Sanasia?"

"Santaria," he corrected. "And no, I'm not. You can call me a champion of not wanting to slaughter slaves to make nobles happy, though. That's what had me sparked in the end."

Casiama crossed her arms with a pout on her lips. Talos tried wrapping his own arm around her, which was rebuked in turn. He apologized a minute later, unable to bare the silence.

"Sorry, Cass. I'm not... I'm not exactly the shining knight you believe me to be, I promise. Like in your books. But nowadays I do at least try. As well I can," he spoke gruffly, yet heartfelt. He continued after a moment when Casiama refused conversation, hoping to draw her out.

"Anyway, most of Isbrygga does not speak our language, either. Only the nobleborn take the time to learn Elvish, and even then its... crude. Basic. Though it's easy enough to get by if you know the words for 'please', 'thanks', and 'mead', I suppose. I've never had a problem with it, anyway."

Talos turned towards Casiama, her eyes still averted from him. He closed his pack, and began to stand up. "If nothing else, they're accepting of elves here in the Jarldom of Valpa. That has to count for something, eh?"

Talos noticed her ears perk up, and she soon lifted herself to her feet effortlessly beside him. She wrapped her arm through his, hugging it loosely.

"Yes. I suppose it does," Casiama said softly, finally shifting her gaze to him. Their green eyes locked with one another's as she frowned.

"And

I'm

sorry, Talos. But you must know that you

are

my knight. And I hope you keep that in mind."