Author's Notes:
This story is erotic fantasy, set in a world of magic. I retain the right to be listed as the author of this story, as
Darkniciad
wherever it appears. Excerpts may be posted elsewhere with links to the story on Lit, but to repost the entire story, I require that you obtain permission from me first. If you are seeing this notice, and you are not at Literotica, odds are this story is posted without permission.
Set a little over a year before my story "Blackhawk Hall", this tale follows Arilee and relates the events that eventually led her to Fightershaven and her destiny.
I occasionally make use of "modern" weights and measures in my writing, and I hope this doesn't jar those fantasy readers who prefer archaic measures such as "cubits" and "leagues".
I know everyone has been waiting for more Arilee, and I hope you like this little look into her past before I launch the sequel to Blackhawk.
~~~[---@---]~~~
The sun shining in her window awakened Arilee, and she rose as soon as she was awake enough to realize it was morning. There were dark circles under her bloodshot eyes, and she changed from her nightshirt into a plain blouse and skirt with obvious weariness. The sun was long set when she had lain down the previous night, but she could ill afford to sleep in to make up for the lack of rest that plagued her.
She walked over to the mirror and pulled a brush through her disheveled blonde locks. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she realized that she needed a bath almost as much as she needed sleep. There were smudges of soot on her cheeks, in addition to the dull luster of her normally golden hair. Shaking her head, she tied up her hair in a leather thong to keep the shoulder-length tresses from interfering with her work. She then turned away before the weary image looking back at her from the glass pulled her spirits down even more.
Leaving her room and walking toward the back door, Ari sighed at the lack of the sounds and smells that were still so much a part of awakening in this house. Her father's voice did not sound from the kitchen, speaking to her mother as she prepared breakfast. Neither did the smell of coffee and sizzling pork waft from the kitchen to draw her from her bed like magic.
Although her parents had been gone for two years now, Arilee still keenly felt the pain of their passing. Her father had simply collapsed, with absolutely no warning, shortly after going to open his shop one morning. His heart had failed, and with his passing, her mother's heart had broken.
Arilee was convinced that her mother had died more of a broken heart than the sickness that struck her only four months later. Ari had cared for her failing mother for six months, forced to grow up and not only tend to the house and her mother's ill health, but the disposition of her father's business as well. With him gone, there was nobody to acquire the goods or run the shop, and so Arilee had been forced to sell it. She knew that the price paid for the business had been paltry compared to its worth, but she had needed the money, and thus had little choice but to accept the offer.
When her mother passed on, Arilee was left alone. Taking in washing, mending, and other small tasks had stretched the money from the sale of her father's business for a time, but that coin was now gone. Thus, she was now dependant upon those domestic tasks to support her. At first, she had found more than enough work to make ends meet, but recent increases in taxes strained her ability to earn enough coin to pay them, and still have enough money for food.
Ari sighed and opened the back door, squinting against the bright sunlight outside. When her eyes adjusted, she looked around to make sure that nobody was nearby. The skirt she wore — the only remaining one clean — was far too short for her taste, showing off a long expanse of shapely leg, well above the knee. The blouse was likewise almost too small, and barely contained her firm breasts. The thin material also displayed her small, dark nipples far too prominently for Arilee's sense of propriety. Determining that she was likely the only person awake in the area, she opened the door and stepped outside.
A summer breeze washed over Ari as she reached down and picked up a wooden bucket, dipping it into the water barrel next to the door. Sitting it down, she likewise filled a second pail, and then picked them both up with a grunt of exertion. She paused for a moment, drinking in the morning that promised that a hot day lay ahead. She would have liked to watch the world wake up, but she just had too much to do.
There was
always
too much to do.
Arilee lugged the heavy buckets of water into the kitchen, and with a sigh of relief, sat them down on the table next to the stove. After stirring up the coals and feeding fuel into the stove, she poured the contents of one bucket into a copper pot sitting atop the slowly heating metal. Knowing the water would take some time to heat up, Ari grabbed the remains of her cold supper from the night before — a quarter loaf of bread and a little cheese — and walked toward the front room of the house.
Taking a bite of cheese, and then one of the slightly stale bread, Ari sat down in a chair and picked up a pair of trousers, which were split in the backside, from the basket next to the chair. Selecting a spool of thread similar in color to the trousers, she threaded a needle and settled in to mend while the water heated.
~~~[---@---]~~~
It was nearly evening before Arilee completed her work for the day. Though she was exhausted, and still had to attend to her own household chores, she smiled as she counted the coin earned from her hard day's work. It was still not enough to pay her taxes, but she would soon have the money if things kept going as they were.
To that end, she was also fortunate, as more of the wealthy townsfolk had dropped off laundry for washing and mending during the day. Her day tomorrow would be just as long and tiring, but should also earn her plenty of coin.
A glance into the pot on the stove revealed that the water was boiling, so Arilee hurried to refill the washtub, so that she would have clean clothing of her own to wear in the morning. After filling the tub, she went out and checked on the few things of hers she had washed during the day. Ari smiled when she found that her nightshirt, panties, and modest dress were all dry and ready to wear.
Pulling the garments down from the line, she took them back inside. The rest of her clothing would dry on the line strung in the kitchen as she slept tonight. The night would be warm, and there appeared to be no sign of rain, but Arilee could not bear the thought of leaving the rest of her panties hanging outside while she was sleeping and could not watch over them. Her modest wardrobe did not take long to wash, and soon all her things were hanging to dry, save what she was wearing at the moment. As Arilee pulled off her blouse, she winced from a whiff of her own smell that arose when she lifted her arm.
My clothes aren't the only thing that will be washed before I leave this house today,
she thought,
