The Tale Of Amberley Bloodstar Ch 02

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fantasy. I have occasionally appropriated items such as lyrics for songs (since I have no facility for writing such things myself) and all credit is due to the writers of said songs and lyrics. I'll probably just list any borrowings at the bottom of the story to save time. Several fantasy works and games have influenced this story and I've borrowed and blended concepts freely.

This story is dedicated to a fan who requested it. They know who they are. Constructive comments and reviews are welcome; flames will be snickered at and deleted. Enjoy!

Chapter II - A World Unknown

"

Maple. Maypole.

Catch and carry.

Ash and Ember.

Elderberry.

Woolen. Woman.

Moon at night.

Willow. Window.

Candlelight.

I continued singing and beginning a round with my audience as I played, fingers dancing over the strings of my instrument and the notes carrying across the emerald-green lawn. Children laughed and danced around a pole, twining vibrantly coloured ribbons, while others chased rabbits and butterflies.

I led the audience, some fifty strong, in two rounds of the children's tune and they applauded gaily as I finished. With a graceful bow, I stepped down from the tree stump I'd been standing on and accepted a chalice of wine from a servant. I had cheerfully accepted the offer to sing and play music for this fete, hosted by a minor (but agreeably wealthy) member of Arristheon.

"My Lady Bloodstar, you sing like a goddess," my host declared as he joined me, along with his wife, a stately woman with piles of curled brown hair and a patrician air about her. "Had I not already procured the services of a bard, I would most certainly hire you."

"I thank you for the kind words, and the opportunity to entertain, but where might your bard be if you found you needed my services?" I asked, raising my chalice to my lips.

"Lo, he is unwell, and has been for nearly a fortnight," the nobleman lamented. "He has lost his voice almost entirely, barely able to talk above a rasping whisper and says his throat feels like sand."

"Yes, odd how that one stable girl he will not leave alone had a yeast infection just before he lost his voice," the wife said carelessly, sipping daintily and looking away. "But that is none of my business."

My host gave his wife a sour look before continuing. "Please excuse my wife's humour; she is merely annoyed that he will not be able to entertain at a small gala she is hosting for the ladies of Arristheon. Perhaps I might interest you in the prospect?"

"I am open to negotiations on the possibility," I replied readily. I was trying to make a name for myself here in the capital, after all. "Your pay for today's engagement was fair; it sounds as if this new fete might be somewhat more involved."

The wife gave her husband a sidelong glance. He shifted somewhat uncomfortably. "I ... would not be able to pay you what standards in the city might ascribe as the going rate for talented bards," he admitted. "My money is made in trade with foreign ports, and my biggest shipment of the year is as yet delayed. I have little money currently, and I dare not show it."

"Then what you paid me today was very generous," I mused, smiling. "You need not worry about my discretion, good sir."

"Well, thank you for that," he sighed, relieved. "But how, then, would I compensate you?"

I walked over to his wife and gently drew a finger along a delicate silver chain on her neck. I lifted it with a finger, and from between her breasts emerged a small, elongated prism of dull glass, in silver fittings.

"A pretty bauble, my lady," I said.

"What, this old thing?" she replied, almost making a wry face. "It's been in my family for generations; I wear it if I think any of my family members are nearby. It's an heirloom, but otherwise a useless bauble."

"Perhaps," I replied, turning it my fingers. "But it sings to me, as if it has stories to tell. Stories I could turn into songs."

I looked at the two of them. "I have a sentiment for old and useless baubles. I will make a deal with you, my lord. If you will give me your wife's pendant, I will wait on proper payment until your shipments arrive and your transactions are completed. At that time, you pay me the going rate for a bard hosting a fete. Until then, I will entertain at your wife's fete and make sure people never forget it."

He was about to say something when his wife interjected, clasping my hands eagerly.

"Done!" she said, and I could feel the prism sliding into my palm.

***

I walked into the small, dusty shop, a small bell ringing overhead as I entered. It was dark, and I seemed to be the only person present. I looked around, seeing rows of shelves on which sat endless numbers of small, exotic and usually dusty, rusty items. A small candle guttered behind the long counter that dominated the back of the shop.

A heard a wheezing grunt, and then a bulbous, bald head appeared behind the counter. The grey, plaited beard that dominated the lower half of the face was still threaded through with red. Brown eyes peered at me from behind thick spectacles.

"What can I do for you, young lady?" rumbled the proprietor in an aged, but not unkindly tone. Looking at him, I smiled and now understood the reason for the establishment's name:

The Battered Dwarf

.

"I wish to have you look at an item for me, Master Dwarf," I began, stepping forward. "I will pay you for an honest assessment of a trinket that is now in my possession."

"Only too happy to help," he huffed as he pulled himself into an elevated chair, so that he was sitting above the counter. I sat in a chair on the other side, meant for guests, and drew my newest acquisition from a pocket in my doublet. "Allow me to see it, my dear..."

I set the prism on the counter and pushed it to him. He stared at it for a moment before muttering and reaching below the counter to rummage around. He retrieved a large, heavy brass oculus that he fitted over his right eye, securing it with leather straps around his head. He picked up the crystal and examined it, while I watched him intently.

He stared at it for an inordinate length of time.

"I think we both know that it's a thyno-ar crystal," I said quietly but with certainty in my voice. "I can see by the way your pupil contracted as you observed it that you knew what it was too."

He slowly looked back up at me, and there was an air of challenge in his voice. "So certain, young lady?"

I smiled and held out my hand. He slowly put the prism into my palm. I clasped my fingers around it and rolled it slowly back and forth, whispering closely. I could feel my heart strum slowly in my chest, and the rhythm of my breathing.

When I held the prism up again, between my thumb and forefinger, it was glittering brightly, as if lit by a fire within. He looked at me in wonder.

"It is indeed a thyno-ar crystal, and not a bad one," I said, smiling. "I daresay a spellsinger could make something beautiful out of this, say... enchanted strings for a young bard's aeolian harp?"

"I must ask, where did you get it?" he queried, still looking at the crystal, now illuminating the back half of his shop with its radiance.

"It was given to me, and in return, I am hosting the gala being thrown by Lady Orrel."

"Ah, the Orrels," he grunted. "Ambitious social climbers, those ones. Decent merchants, though. Am I right in assuming that they did not know what it was?"

"It has been in the lady's family for generations, she told me," I said, shrugging. "So its true nature has gone untold for some time. I intend to make it worth their while."

He cracked a grin. "Still, a shrewd bargain on your part. Might I ask your name, my lady?"

"Amberley," I replied, nodding my head by way of an introductory bow. "Amberley Bloodstar."

He made a wry face. "Bloodstar ... you don't look like an Elf."

"No, but it is my surname now, nonetheless," I sighed. "My family, the Vails, were married into the Bloodstar clan, to cement an alliance between the Suzerainty of En-Loryn and the kingdom of Furyondy."

"Oh, you're from Furyondy," he mused, looking at me. "A long way from home."

"It behooves a bard to travel beyond their borders to see the world, learn tales, create songs and make a name for themselves," I explained. "And Furyondy is burgeoning with bards, I fear. I wanted to spread my wings, so to speak."

"And now you find yourself in Arristheon," he chuckled. "What think you of our fair city?"

I smiled. "Larger than our capital of Irsei, certainly, and sophisticated in its own way, but not as beautiful."

"Not every city is blessed with magic fountains and floating gardens, I fear," laughed the proprietor. "But where are my manners? Please, call me Rulim."

"Have you lived in Arristheon long, Master Rulim?" I asked, passing the crystal back to him again for further inspection. It was still glittering as he picked it up, turning it over in his stout fingers. "I assume you are from the Black Hills Kingdom nearby."

"Long enough to be a fixture in people's minds," he said somewhat absently, still concentrating on the prism. "I have come to represent the interests of the Black Hills in that time, though not always willingly."

"I have known very few dwarves over the course of my life, and it is my understanding that those of the Mountain realms are very traditionalist and can be difficult to work with."

He nodded. "Those of us who leave the mountains or are born outside of them are considered quite temperate and abnormal by our kin. I know that can seem strange, given that we are often still inflexible and dour, at least by your standards."

"Can you find a spellsinger, Master Rulim?" I asked. "One who can turn this bauble into the strings I might desire?"

He looked down at the crystal and then up at me. "No mere bard, are you?"

"Oh, I daresay there is no such thing as a

mere

bard, good sir, but I will confess that my training in our arts does advance beyond the prosaic. There is music in the fabric of magic, if one worships the Goddess of Song."

"If you will leave the item with me for a few days, I will see what I can find for you, my dear," Rulim said. "Spellsingers are not easy to come by, not even in Arristheon."

"And I do not wish to trek all the way back to Furyondy to see if my Elven kith, the Bloodstars, would be willing to allow me to use one of theirs," I mentioned. "They are not always fond of me."

"I cannot imagine why," he laughed. "I thank you for your trust. We will discuss sums and payment when I have an answer for you."

And thank you, Master Dwarf, for your assistance and discretion," I replied, rising and bowing gracefully.

***

The Orrels had invited me to stay with them until after the fete they were to host, but I politely declined, preferring instead to stay at an inn not far away. It had been intimated to me that the Halfling cook there was one of the best in the region.

I lay now on my back, squirming and sighing in pleasure as the young man between my legs lapped at my pussy hungrily. My hand was on the back of his head, my other hand fondling my breasts and pinching my nipples. The exquisite heat of my lust, enhanced by several glasses of a local wine, reached every bit of my body, even to the tips of my fingers and toes. His wicked tongue was sending tingles through me.

"Mmmmmm, Grimald," I purred, squirming and undulating my hips against him. "You lied, naughty boy, about your skill with your tongue. You are a true artist."

He looked up at me while his delightfully wide tongue slid up and down my womanhood and smiled. I shivered as I felt him slide a finger deep inside me before pulling his mouth away to speak.

"You flatter me, mistress, but I thank you. I admit that I know my way around men's cocks better than a woman's grotto, but I am eager to please you."

His tongue slid around my clit slowly and I groaned and squirmed, feeling my toes curl. His finger was joined by another and slipped in and out of my pussy, in time with me squeezing around them. My fingers curled and gripped in his wavy, dark hair and I looked down into his brown eyes. I could tell from the build of his body he had at one time been a peasant, but now he was making a living for himself in Arristheon as a swain.

We had courtesans in Furyondy, but "escorts" like Grimald here in Arristheon were not exactly legal and only tolerated as a necessary vice. One I was perfectly happy to take advantage of.

I ground my pussy in slow, sensual circles around his fingers, shivering as he fluttered his tongue over my throbbing clit and the sensitive hood. I shuddered and gasped as he locked his lips around it and began to suck gently, sending jolts of pleasure lancing through me.

"Your cock, Grimald ..." I panted. "Let me --

gnnnn!

- let me taste your cock!"

He nodded and crawled up my body, pausing to kiss and suck on my breasts until I was writhing in need. I finally sat up and rolled him over, pushing him down into the soft bed. I know he said he mostly kept the company of men, but there was no hiding his arousal. His rod was good and hard when I crawled down between his legs, pulsing in anticipation as I wrapped my hand around it.

It was not the longest cock I'd ever had, nor the thickest, but very nice and a good size all the same. I smiled at him wickedly while planting small kisses around the shaft or sliding my tongue up and down its length. His hands came down and lost themselves in my golden hair, caressing me. I slid my tongue around the head before enclosing it between my wet lips and humming gently. I felt him shiver and decided to show him that no man's mouth could compete with that of a woman in lust.

I pushed my mouth slowly down his length and heard him moan, his fingers gripping my hair. My tongue pressed and fluttered against the silken skin of his cock as I moved farther, my lips finally reaching his root. I held him there for some seconds, letting him experience the wet heat of my mouth before starting to pull back up, slowly. My lips dragged along the sensitive skin, making him squirm. I hummed, vibrating my lips around him and eliciting further groans from my companion.

He was enthralled, and I began to bob up and down slowly, my hand following my lips with a gentle massaging motion on his shaft. My tongue never stopped kneading against him, pressing on that vein on the underside of his manhood. I'd subtly bunched up some sheets between my legs and was squirming against them now, stimulating my clit and pussylips while I pleasured him. He'd made me delightfully wet, and I wanted to remain that way for when I took him inside me.

My mouth moved up and down rhythmically, his cock glistening as my lips passed over it. My hand had added a gentle twisting motion to its massage. He almost whimpered and I felt his heels latch themselves against my lower back as he tried to control himself. I hummed again and he gasped loudly and shook. Even while I stimulated myself with the sheets bunched between my thighs, I made sure I kept him riled. It had been a long road from Ynnswood, and I was ready for a good fucking.

"Are you ready, Grimald?" I asked, smiling at him slyly while I kept pumping his shaft with my hand. "Do you want to fuck me?"

"Mistress, please," he panted. "Please let me fuck you..."

"Good boy," I purred as I kissed his throbbing cock one final time and then slowly began to move up his body. My breasts enveloped his cock for a moment and I paused and squirmed them around his rod, making him shudder and beg. I kissed and nipped at his skin as I continued making my way up until I was straddling him, my dripping pussy hovering achingly close to his engorged head. I was almost worried my hunger for him was showing, a glazed lust I did not want to control.

My hand found his shaft again, stroking it a few times while I positioned myself above him. I felt his knob press against my pliant lips and I teased it back and forth along my slit, making us both shiver. My pussy glistened with my dew and seeing his head push the lips apart sent a thrill through me, a keen anticipation of what happened next.

I bit my lip as I allowed his cockhead to penetrate, still holding his shaft to steady him. Once the warm tip was inside and held in place, I moved my hand away and began to sink down slowly, feeling my tight walls give way before his cock. I sighed in pleasure and Grimald moaned in relief as I took him inside me.

I sat still for several seconds, my eyes closed, and my hands resting on his chest, just reveling in the feel of a cock deep inside me. There were poems and songs that women bards would tell and sing, to receptive private audiences, who tittered behind their hands at such ribald verses. But to make these sensual poems and songs real, one had to experience and enjoy them. A song was coming to life in my head as Grimald's cock pulsed inside my pussy.

My eyes fluttered open and I smiled down at him. He looked back up at me, his own eyes heavily lidded as he savoured the feeling of me holding him tight. I smirked and squeezed myself around him, making him gasp and open his eyes wide. My hands found his and brought them up to rest on my opulent breasts. He smiled and gave them a tentative squeeze, sending shivers through me. I nodded and he continued to play with them while I started to slowly ride up and down on his cock. I didn't want him to pop too quickly, so I set a steady rhythm while he adjusted to the feel of me.

"Mmmm, my lady," he sighed while he groped my breasts and brushed his fingers over my nipples. "You are a true delight."

"Oh?" I replied, looking coy, my hands still on his chest as I humped up and down. "Better than a slender boy's ass?"

"Yes," he breathed, closing his eyes again while I squeezed his cock for emphasis. "You are ... oh, gods ... you are what women should feel like, my lady ..."

His words gave me a tingle, and I squeezed him again, eliciting yet another moan. I had paced him now so that he would not cum before I was ready. He was feeling very good inside me and I didn't want it to end quickly. I kept my steady rhythm, fucking him slowly. After a long road, I could wait a little bit.

"Go ahead and pump with your hips now, lover," I said softly, smiling at him. He nodded and began pushing up and down carefully, knowing to match my pace. I sighed in pleasure as he touched deeper inside me, and I could feel his lovely cock pulsing against my walls. "Isn't this wonderful?"

He moaned an answer and I leaned back slightly, enjoying the change in the angle of his penetration. My head craned back, my golden hair spilling down and tickling his thighs. My motions were slow and sensual. His hands were now on my thighs, squeezing them, and my own hands sought out my breasts, fondling and teasing. Warmth and tingles blossomed through me.

I squeezed gently, loving how he reacted. His hips moved under me, pushing his cock up into my pussy. I went down as he pushed up, our unison perfect. Grimald groaned and gripped my thighs. I could feel my wetness on his skin, and I almost giggled - if he thought I'd made him wet now, wait until I actually came. I was certain that would be a new experience for him.

I wanted to climax at least once before allowing him to cum. It had been many days since anyone other than myself had made me cum. And I'd become too saddle-sore to really enjoy the ride to the capital. I needed to fuck harder, but without him cumming.

Without warning, I put my hands on his round shoulders and rolled myself onto my back, pulling him over me. He looked confused for only a moment, before bracing his hands on either side of me and then beginning to thrust down into my pussy. I gasped and shuddered, putting my arms on his back. I pushed up to meet his thrusts, my hips almost leaving the bed below me. I was right, he was not used to being on top, and thinking about propping himself up had distracted him slightly, hopefully allowing him to last longer. I, meanwhile, could now cum at my leisure, with his fine cock splitting my pussylips wide and burying itself in me.