Author's note: It's seemed to me for a long time that there just isn't enough romantic drider erotica out there, so I decided to change that. Enjoy!
Chapter 1.
Rohn had searched the cave for days. There had been signs of life near the entrance, and he knew there had been someone down here. But all he had found was the occasional tiny bone or long-abandoned fire pit. Whoever was down here was either very deep or had departed long ago. But there was a chance it was her, and that was enough to keep him searching.
The light from his torch illuminated the near wall. He had found his way into a narrow crevice a half-mile down, and the walls here were covered in a nasty greenish slime that seemed to shrivel when the light hit it. Where this led was anyone's guess, but he had to explore every path.
Up ahead the crevice widened, and he emerged into a round chamber, and this place was different: Tall columns rose to the ceiling, and the walls were covered in a thick, white sticky substance, composed of infinite numbers of threads that had decayed long ago and were hanging loose, as if the ceiling and walls had hair. It was soft and silken to the touch, its actual stickiness long-since lost. His heart leapt a little when he saw it: Either this cave had once had a terrible spider infestation, or
she
had been here.
He continued to the end of the chamber, carefully avoiding being tangled, and through the next few chambers and tunnels beyond. Each was covered in the same threads, but as he progressed, he began to notice the occasional small bundle wrapped up in them.
And then he saw light.
A flickering orange glow drifted down the next tunnel, the glow of life and civilization. He crept forward nervously, around one corner, and then another, the glow getting stronger and more yellowy as he approached.
There was a round cavern up ahead, twenty feet across, and on the far side, logs were burning in a fire-pit, surrounded by thick rocks, the smoke curling up to the ceiling where a small crevice swallowed it. This room, too, had spider webbing on its walls, but this was new and fresh, a brilliant white compared to the dull grays of the previous rooms. He turned to look at the side walls, which boasted a few wooden bookshelves with pots and books resting neatly on them. There was surely someone —
In a moment's flash, he was thrown against the wall, with thick, sticky webbing covering his chest and arms! He looked up just in time to see a large figure leap down from the ceiling in front of him. And suddenly there was a face, a human face, inches from his.
"Who are you?"
It came from a woman's face, a pretty face with sad, tired blue eyes. Long, straight yellow hair cascaded down around it to cover her upper body, which was otherwise bare. Her mouth was cinched up in a scowl, and her hand was now holding his chin.
"Who are you?" she repeated. "What do you want down here?"
"Layna?" he said. "Is that you?"
She recoiled as if she'd seen a ghost, leaping back, and he could now see that she was the one, the one he had been searching for.
"How — do you know my name!?"
"I've been searching for you," he said.
She whirled, grabbing a sword that had been leaning against one of the walls. It was rusty with disuse, but when its point touched his neck, Rohn could not deny that it was still effective.
"Did the Mages send you?" she said. "Who was it? Rothmory? Albegare? Speak, or I swear I'll run you through."
"I'm unarmed," he said. "Save for a small dagger."
"A mage wouldn't need arms," she replied.
"I — was sent by the Mages," he said. "But not Rothmory or Albegare."
"I knew it!" she cried, and a prick of blood welled up at the tip of the sword. "Who was it then? Which of those monsters wants me after all this time?"
"Cirudan," said Rohn. "And Osmira."
The sword wavered a little. "Wha — they — the White Mage joined them?"
"No," said Rohn. "The Dark Mages were defeated."
"But — " The sword wavered again.
"The Council sent me here," he said, "to find you. And any others ruined by the Dark Mages. The war is over. The good guys won."
She took a step back, and the sword clattered to the floor. "They — won? But — "
"I know this is hard to believe," said Rohn. "But you've been down here a long time. The war ended two years ago. Rothmory, and Albegare, and Tunilio, and Garrett — they're all dead. All of the people who did this to you were run through by a sword, or burned to death, or shot by an arrow. Only Albegare surrendered, and he was tried, and he was hanged in Halden Square."
Layna slowly lowered herself to the ground. "He deserved it," she said.
"Can — you untie me?" he said.
She looked up at him. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"
"Again, I'm unarmed," he said. "And you were an Apprentice once. You should be able to tell if I have magical abilities."
She stared at him for a moment, her tired blue eyes suddenly looking more intense and energized.
"You're no mage," she said.
"Sadly, no," he said.
Still laying on the floor, not even looking at him, she reached forward with one of her forelegs, and in a quick strike, sliced the sticky webbing that bound him. He fell forward, and landed on his feet.
"If you try anything," she said, "I can and will kill you."
"I know you're hurt," he said. "I know what they did to you. But it's okay. The Council wants to help you. You don't have to hide in a cave anymore."
She shook her head. "I'm a monster!" she said. "Look at me! I have eight legs! I don't fit in a human world, even if the war is over."
