The Battle And The Forest

He was running. Stumbling over roots, clutching at branches. The sounds of battle were fading behind him. He had no idea why he chose this direction. He could no longer remember. But he was determined to stick to it. Blind with pain. There was only one thought driving him on; survive to report.

Again he fell. Again he picked himself up. Would there be pursuers? Almost definitely. He fell. Gasping for breath, he tried to summon strength to stand. He froze. He sensed another person nearby. Slowly, his hand crept towards his sword. Two boots. Nice leather trimmings. Intricate patterns were carved into the scale platings. It had a strange throbbing, its magic pulsing within. Yes, it was a good pair of boots. Then it hit him. He has been found! Enemy! Desperately trying to summon the last of his energy, his last thoughts were that his enemy did have good taste. Then he blacked out.

Images swam through his head. It was a scouting patrol. Himself, and 2 other Champions were to be the back up. Rangers and Wardens fanned the area in a wide arc. They never knew what hit them. Rangers were firing. Wardens were running back to re-group. An army of Albion warriors were upon them like flies in an uncovered grave. They never stood a chance. He had to run back. A message. A massive invasion force. But he failed. He died. He heard screaming. And he sat up. Agony lanced through his many wounds. He was screaming. As the screaming faded into sobs, he realized that he was not dead. He fainted again.

Three more times he woke. Each time, he saw no one. He was in a cave. It was dark. This time. He woke slowly. Someone was in the cave. So, now the torture begins?

“You’re awake.” A soft feminine voice enquired.

Cautiously, he turned. She smiled. It was ridiculous, but even at this time, he felt a stirring in his loins.

“You saved me.” It was not a question. It was not a thank you. It was acknowledgement. One warrior to another. Nice boots.

“I tracked you.” She said. “When I arrived, the battle was lost. I was making my way back to report. Spotted your tracks.”

Panic welled up in him. Report! Yes, he failed! Struggling to get up, she immediately rushed to his side and pushed him back down.

“What are you doing?” she chided.

“I must get back! Report! The Alb…” he started.

“No, the others with me have proceeded back. I stayed behind to cover your tracks. And to bring you here.” She said. Sinking back in relief, he finally accepted that his duties were done. He must have been near death. He has never felt so weak in his life. She was still holding him down. Two hands on his shoulders. Soft breath on his face. Blue eyes. Intently staring at him. Concern reflected in them. As he stared, drowning in those azure orbs, he saw something, fleeting. And she pulled away. Breaking that contact. Already, he missed those hands on his shoulders.

“I am not a skilled healer,” she said, looking out towards the entrance of the cave. “It was all I could do to keep you alive. The poisons. My mana store was depleted so many times. It was close. Too close.”

She was rambling. She knew. But she did not know why. This man. This warrior had something. In all her years, training as a Warden, her affinity to all things in Nature has been honed to a fine sharpness. Yet, she has never felt this. Whatever it was. When she first saw him, clawing for his sword, in the throes of death. Something.

It was difficult. As the others cast what healing they could and set off to find other survivors. He became her responsibility. She could still remember. His weight. So cold. So heavy. Yet, the contact filled her with feelings she could not identify. New. Worrisome. Fascinating. Inappropriate. As they struggled to survive. To evade. And now, here he was. Awake. She felt relief. She needed to rest. And yet, his voice. She wanted to hear it again. It was saying something.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I was distracted. What did you say?”

“It’s alright,” he smiled. “You must be tired. I was just saying, that you saved my life, and I do not know your name.”

“I do not know your either.” She replied. “In battle, does it matter?”

“In battle? No,” he replied. “But now, we can be friends. We can be comrades. Fellow soldiers fighting for our Realm.”

They continued to look at each other. And looked. And smiled. It was as if they have been together forever. It was familiar. Comfortable. It was intimate. They never wanted to leave this forest.

She came back to his side. Slowly, she reached out her hands and touched his face. Tracing it down his cheeks, he winced as she passed a tender spot. Without speaking, she cast her healing. Slowly, she removed his bandages. His broken ribs were mended. The sword wounds were just whispers of a bad memory. As she gently removed the wrapping, he realized that below the blankets, he was naked. Slowly, gently, she moved her hands over his chest. Her eyes never left his. He trembled as he felt those soft hands pass his nipples. As her hands traveled down, the blanket followed. As her sensitive fingers explored his hips, he could hold back no more and reach out with his hands for her. Swiftly, with reflexes that surprised him, she caught his hands. She shook her head. As she put his hands back to his side, her fingers continued their trembling path down to his thighs. She moved closer. He felt her breath just as her lips brushed his. Not daring to breathe, he did not dare to move. Afraid that he might startle this fascinating angel into flight.

As her hands continued down his loins, she finally kissed him. A slow fire began to build. And just as he felt her hands on his raging manhood, her tongues slipped into his mouth. Like a dying man in a desert, he clung to that tongue. Desperately battling with his own tongue to trap it forever in its warm prison. Yet those magic hands were at work on him. He gasped. She broke the kiss, and began a fiery journey of a thousand kisses around his face. Pass his lips, down his neck, to his chest. Her teeth nipped at him. And her hands never stopped. As she suckled his nipples, his trembling hands came up, and ran its course through her thick, wavy locks. He removed the restraining bow. And its glorious luster was finally free. As it tumbled down and covered his face, his eyes, his nose, his mouth, it hid her from his view. But he was sure of his destination now. His fingers crept over her beautiful body. Pausing for brief moments over each perfect part, he finally reached the laces. As his hands busied themselves, she reached her destination too.

Fire lanced through him as he felt a moist hotness envelope his tip. Impatiently, he freed her breasts and he strained to reach them with his own hungry mouth. Satisfied at a mission accomplished, his hands wondered over her topless body, seeking its next goal. She moaned as his hands stroked her thighs, and she sucked even harder. As he reached her wet center, they were both panting. He was losing control as this raven haired beauty determined to suck his very life away. Groaning too loudly, he came into her mouth, and she drank it all. As her tongue lashed furiously to prolong his ecstatic agony, he pulled her down on him, and his mouth found the honey that it needed. Soon, it was her turn to be gasping. He found her clitoris. She found her voice. Her scream would have roused the dead.

As she lay there panting, he finished removing her clothes. He stared at the perfection that was revealed before him. Reverently, he ran his hands down her body. Her face, her lips, her breasts, she moan, as his curious explorations venture around her hips and between her legs. He was hard again. Harder. He kissed her. And started another fire. Side by side they lay, desperately pulling each other closer. She grabbed his buttocks, clawing to feel every inch of him against her fevered body. As he soothed his hands down her back, she was moaning into his mouth, urging him towards something that he did not understand. He laid her on her back and moved over her. She felt his weight on her. It felt good. Their kiss never broke. She could feel him at her entrance. Rubbing. Teasing. And she knew what she wanted.

Squirming around, she threw him on his back and sat on him. Surprised, the looked into her eyes. And smiled. For in those blue depths, he saw a fire, a promise of pleasure to come and in turn, his smile promised not to disappoint. Slowly, she positioned her self over him. She moved. Slowly, softly, she moved. Rubbing herself against his hardness, coating it with her juices. She allowed the tip to nestle just inside. Yet, she held back. He strained upwards, flexing his hips in a futile attempt to invade. She smiled. His movements, his hunger were giving her untold pleasures. She knew she was on the edge. She kissed him. She put her breasts to his face, and he knew just what to do to those aching nipples.

Suddenly, he grabbed her hips. And she gasped. She knew. This was it. He pulled her towards him, locking their mouths and tongues together as saliva became the nectar of passion and his manhood finally found its home in the woman’s lair. She came. She could not hold back. The foreplay. The passion they shared. And the love in their hearts. And as the thunder of her orgasm clapped around her, she realized that she knew what that mysterious feelings were. This was the love of her life. Her soul-mate. She came again as he plunged himself deeper. She rode him like the wild stallion that he had become to her. And still it was not enough. He grabbed her and flipped her onto her back. How he did it while they were still so intimately joined, she did not know. Nor did she care.

Pulling himself almost completely out, he looked into her eyes. There was recognition in those eyes. Acknowledgement. As he slowly pushed himself back into her depths, they both knew. When he was fully inside her, he moved his face close and just as he spoke, she did to, “I have always loved you.”