This story is a bit wordy and fairly long, so if you are looking for immediate gratification, you might want to look elsewhere.
The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between these characters and events and any real person or events is strictly coincidental . . . and pretty darn impressive seeing as it is a science fiction story. Do not reproduce or copy this story without the consent of the author.
In my magical, mixed-up world, characters don't worry about STDs or unwanted pregnancies except occasionally as a plot device. The author encourages the practice of safe (and hopefully satisfying) sex.
While this is a science-fiction story, it may at different points contain sexual behavior that might fall into other categories. You can rest assured however that there will be NO depictions of Non-Consent, Mind Control, or Incest for any purpose other than as plot devices, and certainly not for sexual arousal. Anything else is fair game.
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Princess Vanesse Bellethial really had no idea what to do. Her life had gone from mind-numbingly dull to "what the hell was that?" in the course of a few days. She and her bodyguard had been planning on running away from her Alaskan compound to try and unravel the secrets of the world, but Vanesse had realized that Trina had secrets of her own. The King had secrets. Everyone had them. And Vanesse was finding the learning curve to be a bitch.
She was a necromancer who had no notion of the healing arts until after she had been kidnapped by a beautiful werehyena she-male and her motorcycle gang. The pack leader, a woman named Farmer, had absolutely turned the elf Princess's world on its ear, playing it straight with her and opening her eyes to a great many truths. Then her bodyguard had gotten into a knock-down drag-out fight with the werehyena leader, during which goblin assassins, gunning for Vanesse, had almost killed her best friend instead.
Since then, she had talked to a real necromancer and discovered how her powers were
supposed
to work, only to find that it was sex that fueled their day to day usage. Farmer was more than happy to step in and provide the bone-weakening, mind-numbing sex that gave Vanesse the energy to save her injured friend. Vanesse had then broken the hold that her uncle, the King, had put on Trina to prevent her from telling the truth.
Then, Trina had kissed her. Not a peck on the cheek, not even a grazing kiss of gratitude, but rather a share-your-soul, all-encompassing lip-to-lip extravaganza. Then Trina had passed out, and Vanesse had been left with far more questions than answers.
Since then, she and Trina had barely spoken. Upon waking, Trina had muttered a half-hearted apology and said that she had simply been overwhelmed. Wanting to press the issue but not knowing how, Vanesse had let it drop. Now she and the battle-dancer sat on opposite sides of a long bench, not speaking.
"Well, this is a bundle of laughs," Farmer said, staring at one and then the other of her elf captives. "What are you going to do for an encore? Nap?"
Vanesse blushed, and Trina just glared.
"I truly missed your rapier-like wit," the battle-dancer said. "It's what makes life worth living."
Farmer grinned. "When I say that, no one believes me."
"Go figure."
Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Vanesse could not help but smile a little. This was the Trina she was familiar with.
"Well, we need to figure out what the next move is. Things have gotten complicated," Farmer added.
Trina let out an indelicate snort. "What clued you in?"
"You're kinda lippy for someone who's ass just recently got saved by me."
"Saved? I was busy smacking you around when someone shot me."
"Smacking me . . . Oh, now you've gone and --"
"Oh would you two put a sock in it?" Vanesse interjected, though her smile was getting wider. "What's next? Pistols at twenty paces?"
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to hit someone with a flintlock at forty paces?" Farmer said with exasperation. "Jack and I missed each other three times out of four, and we're both pretty good shots."
"Three out of four? You shot each other?"
Farmed nodded. "We were bored."
"How many times did you shoot each other?" Vanesse asked.
Farmer looked at Jack. "What was it?"
"You got me three times, I got you twice."
Vanesse's jaw had dropped. "You just stood there and shot each other? Multiple times?"
Jack pointed his thumb at Farmer. "She was bored, and we heal quickly."
Trina had taken Vanesse's entrance into the conversation as an excuse to wander off unnoticed. All this talk of being shot was making her uncomfortable.
"Hey, wait up," came a voice from behind her.
She sighed. So much for "unnoticed." Trina rolled her eyes as Jack trotted up next to her. "What?" she asked, already snippy.
"Hey, don't be like that," Jack said jovially. "Hey, I realize that you're still a bit under the weather --"
"The ground is 'under the weather.' I feel like hell."
"-- and all," Jack continued unabated, "but I was wondering if you might want to show me some moves?" Jack took a martial arts stance to emphasize his point.
"I'll show you one move," Trina said calmly. "This is called 'Feminus Exodus.' You'll like it." She proceeded to walk away. She stopped after fifteen feet and glanced out of the corner of her eye. Sure enough, Jack was standing right there.
"While I love watching your ass while you walk, I was sort of hoping you would show me some martial arts. I try and incorporate styles whenever I can, and being able to learn something from a battle-dancer would be sweet."
"Didn't I explain this to you already? It's not that simple. I could make you a color graph to explain it if you like," Trina said, wondering what it was going to take to shake this guy.
"I get that battle-dancing itself is way too big, but you still have basics. How you hit, how you kick, combos . . . stuff like that. The way you flow --"
"Right now, I flow like sewage," she said, trying to get back into her stoic face. "I'm a captive here, remember? I'm not your mommy and I'm not your sensei. I have no reason, incentive, or inclination to do anything but deride you constantly."
Jack stared at her for a second. "Anyway, I noticed that you used these cool double-knee strikes a lot when you were fighting Farmer, so I figured those would be a good --"
Trina put a finger across Jack's lips and said, "Shush!" She waited, relishing the brief silence. As soon as she moved her finger however --
"-- would be a good place to start. I'm --" Jack stopped when Trina covered his mouth with her hand again.
"Be . . . quiet," she said sternly. She waited three seconds, lifted her hand, and then --
"-- pretty good with my legs, but I'm always worried about --"
Trina covered Jack's mouth with one hand and grasped the back of his neck with the other, her eyes glancing around for a roll of duct tape.
"Hey, would you stop harassing my second in command?" Farmer asked, wandering over. Even Vanesse came over, looking on with some amusement.
"That's the pot calling the new-fallen snow black," Trina replied. "Seriously, don't you ever pay attention to him? Play with him? Take him for walks, maybe? Because he's hyper and he's annoying the snot out of me."
