Queen Yavara

Part Eighteen: The Last Queen of the Highlands

Chapter Sixty-One

YAVARA

It took me months to fully heal from the wounds I suffered atop the tower. Even with the full expertise of the royal mages, my stomach and liver were permanently damaged, and my abdominal wall had to be held together with a stiff corset lest I develop a hernia. It made it damnably difficult to sleep, but at least my posture was always good. Headmaster Lucian assured me that it would only be a temporary measure, for he and his best mages were working diligently to create a brand-new set of muscles and organs to replace the damaged ones. Magical healing was easiest when the damaged parts could be reconnected, difficult when the parts had to be regrown, and nearly impossible when the parts had to be made anew. I would be patient. I had learned to be very patient. Elena was busy being queen of the Highlands, and with all the chaos proceeding the events at Alkandra and the horrors that had befallen Bentius, she couldn't make much time to visit me in my hospital bed. So, I spent most of my time lying around, reading books, and oh yeah, plotting her downfall.

"This... this is... this is some fucking bullshit." Elena muttered, staring around the room. She seemed more shocked than angry. Four people surrounded her in the royal office: me, Headmaster Lucian, Secretary Hannah Xantian, and of course, Lady Lydia Straltaira.

"No," I giggled, "it's a coup."

"

Coup

is too strong a term." Lydia said kindly, "No, Sweetie, this is a... a correction. You did an excellent job placeholding for Yavara, and now that she is well, she can take her rightful place as queen."

Elena blinked at her mother. "How in the fuck did she get to you?"

"I've always been a staunch supporter of the traditional—"

"How did she get to you?!"

"Your mother visited me in the hospital every day." I grinned, "She was always bringing me sweets and flowers, and since you were so busy being queen, she needed someone to talk to. Who knew she could be so talkative? Especially after a few glasses of merlot. Oh, she just talked, and talked, and talked..."

"She knows, Sweetie." Lydia swallowed, and smiled embarrassedly, "She uh... she knows everything."

"Elena, Elena, Elena..." I tittered, "I thought I was the queen of depravity, but you... oh,

you!

"

Elena turned a deep shade of red. "Ok, I'm fucking my mom! So what?! Leveria fucked her dad—it was an open secret—and she got to keep her crown!"

"Yes, but Leveria didn't have rebel leaders serving in her cabinet." I said, and patted 'Hannah' on the shoulder.

Elena blinked. "Yavara, that's Hannah Xantian. My mother rescued her from the noble wing after the attack on the castle."

"Hannah Xantian died two years ago," I chuckled, and held out Esmerelda Giana's hands, "do those look like the paws of a noblewoman?"

"She's the secretary of agriculture!"

"She's a farmer, Elena." I smiled.

Elena turned to her mother. "Mom, please tell me this isn't... holy shit, it's true, isn't it?"

Lydia shrugged, looking as guilty as could be. "I might've told a little fib."

"

Told a little fib?!

" Elena yelled, "You were harboring a fucking fugitive in my own court?!

"I was afraid you'd be mad at her!"

"SHE LAUNCHED AN ATTACK UPON THE GATES OF BENTIUS!"

"Well, she's my friend now." Lydia put a protective arm around Esmerelda, "She was the only one keeping me company while you all were out playing war. Besides, the rebel's sacrifices are the only reason Bentius stands at all today."

"They're also the only reason there was an attack in the first place!" Elena growled, "Lucian, arrest her!"

The headmaster let out a pitiable sigh. "I am sorry, my lady."

Elena looked back at him, aghast. "You too?!"

"I am a defender of traditionalism, my lady." He said, and gestured to me, "Yavara Tiadoa has a right you cannot revoke. Besides that," he released his perception spell, and Elena's veil of white skin faded to reveal her true bronze, "I am getting very tired of keeping up appearances all day."

Her jaw twitched. "Where is Field Marshal Krakis?"

"He left for the Rift yesterday." I said, "I don't know why you thought he'd stick around after you called off the engagement. Besides, ever since you defaulted on paying our soldiers, the army hasn't mattered for much. Thanks for falling on that sword, by the way; it'll make my reign much easier."

"You mean

your sister's reign!

"

"I don't know where you got that notion, Elena. Leveria is decades away from vying against the Highlands on open terrain, and besides, she's so locked-up with the going-ons of the Lowlands and Alkandra that she doesn't have time to scheme against me."

"She's always scheming, you dumb twat!" Elena snarled, "I spent months going up against her in the Noble Court, and I beat her! All you did was lose a fucking war to her!"

"Well, since you have such great experience, I'll be appointing you to be my ambassador to Alkandra." I winked, "Just like old times, eh,

Ambassador?

"

Elena was fuming so much that I could practically see steam rising from her head. "Is that all you will require of me,

Your Highness?

"

"Promise that you'll forgive me?" I asked with the cutest little smile I could muster on my cute little face.

Elena stood up, and returned my smile with the meanest death-glare she could muster. She marched past me without a word, and threw her crown on the floor after her.

"She never liked ruling anyway," Lydia said, patting me reassuring me on the shoulder, "she only did it out of a sense of duty. She'll forgive you in time."

"I know she will," I sighed, "but she'll make me pay very dearly for it first."

LEVERIA

I was standing in the newly-made war-room of Castle Alkandra, and frowning at the map of Tenvalia. Once the dwarves had found out who the new ruler of Alkandra was, they sent seven-hundred carts laden with tribute just to apologize for all the trouble they'd caused me as queen of the Highlands. I didn't forgive them. After I was done getting all of the Lowland governors in line, I was going to marshal their navy and sack every dwarven port along the Bearded Peaks until the greedy little bastards were crying golden tears onto my feet. I'd publicly execute a few of their rulers, take a few of the young royal men and women for my harem, and begin the arduous process of turning the mountain people into my vassals. The process involved three steps: first, conquer the territory; second, establish a new ruling order; and third, impregnate enough royal sluts that my bloodlines would infect theirs for a thousand generations.

I rubbed my pregnancy bulge, and smiled to myself. I had learned much about myself after my first trip to the Lowlands, the most interesting of which was that my sperm was very, very potent, and much like an incubus, it could fertilize any womb. Once Arthur was done galivanting around with me on his arm, I got to work killing all possible male heirs to the Lowland throne. It would've been rather obvious if they died sequentially, so the whole Dreus family (including my poor husband) perished dreadfully at once when their luxury yacht was sunk by "dwarven mercenaries." How conveniently tragic for me. After much public mourning and funerals, I got to work riling up the stupid populace into such a frenzy that all the governors unanimously agreed to go to war. After that, I went about impregnating all the widowed noblewomen of the Lowlands until my seed was spread to every corner of the kingdom. Nothing got rich sluts worked up quite like fashionable grief. All across the eastern seaboard of Tenvalia, my little dark-elf babies were growing little dark-elf arms and little dark-elf legs in the swollen little bellies of hundreds of women. My new magical headmaster had informed me that all of my children would be hermaphroditic like me, capable of bearing the seed of any race, and giving their seed to any race. Each one was a little dark-elf factory, and in less than two decades, production would begin to crank up.

"Any word from Ambassadors Furia or Soraya?" I asked Certiok.

"They've established their contacts in Balamora. Terondia and Drastin are both very anxious to trade with us."

"As they should be." I muttered, eyeing my internal trade routes, "I'm sucking the Lowlands dry to prop this place up. Speaking of which... Tiffany!" I called over my shoulder.

The dungeon trapdoor opened, and a symphony of orgasmic wails filled the room. Tiffany, the matriarch vampire and my blood-mother, poked her head out of the opening. "Yes?" She asked, her expression conveying a mixture of annoyance that I'd interrupted her, and hope that I'd join her.

"I'm hungry. Any virgins down there?" I asked.

She looked over her shoulder. "Uh... define 'virgin.'"

"No p-p in v-v."

"What about p-p in b-b?"

"The poop-hole loophole does not apply in Alkandra."

"Well, that really narrows down your options. How fresh do you want your lunch?"

"Don't tell me you spoiled them all already! I just brought this batch from Ardeni two days ago!"

"Fine," she sighed, "Lucy, get up here!"

A moment later, a slender teenage human girl with red hair was tossed from the trapdoor. When her big green eyes fell upon me, she simultaneously recoiled in terror and blushed in awe. Ah, virgins.

"Come here, girl, don't be a stranger." I smiled, and beckoned her over. I enjoyed the way she timidly got to her feet, and I savored every little nervous glance and apprehensive footfall that led her into my range. Once there, I grabbed her, transformed into my vampiric self, and sank my fangs into her throat. She cried out and withered into my arms, and I drank her sweet virgin blood until I was satisfied. I always kept my predatory alter-ego very well-fed, mostly because I enjoyed the raw primal power of being her, but also because maintaining control of myself was paramount. Once I was done with the girl, I transformed back, and smiled at her. She was drooling from a gaping smile, her green eyes unfocused in a haze of lust. I ran my hand down her modest breasts and flat belly, then snaked my fingers between her slender little legs, and caressed her there. She crooned and whined, undulating mindlessly to my expert touch, staring at me with comingled virgin apprehension and carnal desperation.

"I think I'll save you for later." I grinned against her unkissed lips, "My bedroom's behind that door over there. Go find yourself an outfit from my closet, then... handcuff yourself to the bedpost so that you're bent over," I slid my hand all the way through her pelvic floor until my fingers divided her plump little crack, "I think I'll take all of your virginity tonight, Lucy. Every, little, hole."

The poor girl was so wet that I wondered if I'd have to get her a glass of water. She blubbered something, then walked drunkenly to my door, opened it, and closed it behind her.

"Your Highness," Headmaster Dog Meat prompted. After Zander Fredeon was laid to rest, I was in need of a new magic consultant. Enter: Dog Meat, the sexually-mutilated and warped high-elf with wide eyes and a very strange sense of optimism. She was perfect. I could do things to her that I hadn't even dreamed of. Firstly, her lack of legs made her incredibly easy to fuck. I could spin that crazy bitch like a fucking helicopter on my dick until she was squirting in a circle. Of course, she transformed into a hybrid right after that, which meant she grew arms and legs and a fat little cock. No more stump wiggling for her. Now she was a stunning statuesque beauty covered in obscene tattoos. She actually offered to let me saw her legs off again—that beautiful crazy bitch—but I declined. For now.

"Yes, Dog Meat?" I asked her.

"You have a portal request from Bentius." Dog Meat studied the portal she'd spent the last month building, "Looks like one female and one male. Wait, never mind," she smiled at me, "it's actually just one person."

I felt a knot of anxiety form in my throat.

Dog Meat inclined her head toward the bedroom door, "Should I kick Lucy out?"

"Yes—no—or... shit. Goddamn it, where the fuck is my mirror?!"

Certiok giggled. "D'aw, does someone need to get all preened up for her little playdate?"

"I've killed better cunts than you for less, orc!" I snapped at her.

She stuck her tongue out at me, completely unfazed. I hurriedly did up my hair, reapplied a sheen of black lipstick, perfumed my tits to get the smell of slut off them, and rinsed out my mouth to get the taste of cock out of it. Yes, I still liked penis, and there were a hundred Adonis vampires just a whistle away. I'd already thanked the surviving male orcs for their service the best way I could, and I was working on getting limber enough for ogres and centaurs. I knew from experience in my old body that I could take them, but... baby steps. What Yavara never realized in her gluttonous debauchery was that patience and control were paramount. Getting ferociously gangbanged by twenty wild beasts was a fun little time, but if it wasn't done in moderation, then people just thought you were a hopeless slut (guilty), and then you'd have to kill a few arrogant pricks just to remind everyone who the Dark Queen was (also guilty).

"Ok," I said when I was satisfied, "let her in."

There was a flash of green light, and Queen Elena Straltaira was standing before me. She was wearing one of my old red satin dresses with the plunging neckline, her hair was done up in a traditional Highland do, and her bronze flesh was ornamented in golden arm cuffs, sparkling bracelets and diamond necklaces. She wore it all with such effortlessness, like the riches that adorned her were fortunate enough to be in contact with something as rare and precious as she. God, I'd forgotten how beautiful she was. Sometime in the wonderful months preceding my transformation, the very definition of beauty had become 'Elena.'

ELENA

God, I forgot how fucking hot Leveria had become. Her features had always been sharp and refined, the textbook appearance of elven royalty, but masked with dark bronze flesh and maned with jet-black hair, she looked like the devil herself. Her soft noblewoman's body was now sleek and sculpted with muscle, contouring her succulent feminine bulges with shadows and beautiful lines. Her body was crisscrossed in leather bondage straps that formed an 'x' about her squished-together tits, another 'x' about her toned abdomen, and another that intersected her crotch, which was adorned with her silvery codpiece. Fishnet stocking wrapped her thick juicy thighs, and stiletto high-heels elevated her from the floor. She was sex personified in a way even Yavara never was. Vulgar and intimidating, perverse and graceful, deadly and lustful, she was the perfect Dark Queen.

"Queen Straltaira, how good of you to join us," she said casually, leaning against a table that displayed a massive map of Tenvalia, "Certiok and I were just plotting how to take over the world. Hmm... your arrival reminds me; we seem to have overlooked the Highland Kingdom. Ah, but it's become so insignificant. No wonder I forgot about it."

I couldn't help but notice that various chess pieces were strewn about the map. Dark chess pieces covered all of Alkandra and most of the Lowlands, and a few dark pawns were settling into the Bearded peaks. She had grey pieces representing the dwarves and Lowlanders not loyal to her, and white pieces representing the Highland actors. She didn't try to hide the numerous dark pawns and bishops occupying Highland territory. In fact, she smiled a little when I noticed.

"We had a deal, Leveria." I growled, "You promised to keep your meddling little fingers out of my country!"

She raised a wicked brow. "Didn't I just say I forgot about you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Is that why you're isolating us? The Lowlands won't trade with us, the Bearded Peaks stopped answering our calls, and all our trades ships seem to be getting intercepted by pirates. We have an abundance of natural resources we want to sell for cheap because we're drowning in debt, but for some fucking reason, no one wants to buy!"

"What an unfortunate set of circumstances," Leveria sighed, "being a queen is hard, Your Highness." She held up a document and grinned at me, "But with just a little signature here, I can make it much, much easier for you."

"Fuck you."

"Didn't you just say you needed customers?"

"I'm not letting you buy my country!"

"You'd still get to be queen! You wouldn't even be a vassal! You could still write all your own laws, and you could still control your own army. I would just own all the land, industry, and technology, but that's it!"

"Oh, that's it?!"

"Mercantilism is the new imperialism, baby." Leveria tittered, "Wars are so last year. Well, they're also this year too, but you get the idea. Come on, Elena," she wiggled the paper, "it's a very generous offer."

"I couldn't sign it if I wanted to."

Leveria sneered. "I wondered how long it would take for my little sister to oust you."

"Because it was your plan all along, you conniving cunt."

"No, because Yavara is more ambitious than you are. Yes, you play the game better than she does, but you play it at an insurmountable disadvantage. Firstly, you're half dark; secondly, you're behind her in the line of succession; and thirdly and most importantly, you're a pacifist. Despite all their pageantry and faux-sophistication, Highlanders are barbaric war-hawks to the core. It was something you never understood even when the entire Noble Court was against you. The nobles weren't for war because they wanted to kill the Dark Queen—not really, anyway. The nobles just wanted to go to war because war is what Highlanders do. That's why we never conquered the Great Forest even after Alkandra fell, because a perpetual state of war was just more fun. It's why Yavara took your throne even though she once waged war against her own people, because at least she was willing to wage war, and you weren't."

I scowled at her. "You have a very cynical viewpoint of the Highlands."

"I have a

realistic

viewpoint, my dear Elena. You have an

idealistic

view, and that was why Yavara beat you." Leveria moved her hand over the map of Tenvalia, and watched me as she grabbed the white queen, exchanged it for a rook, then moved that rook over to Alkandra. "And now here you are as Yavara's ambassador, I presume. Her trusted rook. A straight-shooter who never veers from the righteous path." She selected a dark pawn from her bucket, and placed it atop Bentius.

"And Yavara's your pawn?"

"No, Elena," she smiled, "that pawn represents opportunity."

I rolled my eyes. "Because one day it might turn into a queen?"

"Exactly. Though we both know there is no 'might' about it. It will, because Yavara will inevitably launch an attack against me, and I will inevitably crush her. Then..." she pulled a dark queen from the bucket of pieces, exchanged my white rook with another dark queen from the bucket, and placed them all in Alkandra next to the dark queen that represented her, "...we can all finally play together."

"A fantasy."

"It is for now," she smiled at me, "but it's funny how my dreams always seem to come true." She gestured toward me, "Case and point."

I sneered. "I bet you thought that was a panty-dropper."

She narrowed her blazing eyes at me, and smirked. "I can see very plainly that you're not wearing any panties, Elena."

It almost worked. I could stay the compulsion to kick off my heels and crawl over to her, but I couldn't hide my arousal. I was hard as a rock, and pressed painfully against my dress. Leveria drew her eyes down my body, stared at my crotch, and cocked her head with a little smile. Then her eyes drew up to me, and she licked her lips.