Wish Granted

Author's Note: All graphically described sexual acts within this story involve characters that are at least 18 years old. This story is entirely fictional. It takes place in a completely fictional fantasy world loosely inspired by the 17th, and 18th, centuries, with hints of other time periods. There will be some drug usage, mild bondage, voyeurism, and bisexuality. Also, there will be a few chapters before any sex scenes take place. This is not meant to be a quick fix. So, keep all this in mind, okay? This story probably won't have as much conflict as it should have, and the plot might not be as satisfying as it should be, but I felt like writing it anyway. I hope you like this story!

******

Henrisk, the capital of Navia, was a busy place during this time of year, especially in the Commerce District. Spring was lacing the air with its addictive energy. The normally bland buildings had a rainbow's worth of flowers hanging from the windows. Joyful sunlight glittered onto the overpriced merchandise of hopeful salespeople. Customers haggled. Horses dutifully carried people and carriages to their destinations, their feet clopping against the streets.

Threne was so fucking miserable that he wanted to die.

But that was normal for him.

The tall and lithe man sniffled and shuffled his way down the streets, hiding his body under a dark brown cloak in spite of the warm weather. One of his sinuses was always inflamed as if he had a terrible sinus infection. It often produced a headache so foul that most wouldn't be able to endure it, but he was able to, because he had been living with this condition for far too long.

Threne's black colored eyes happened to notice a street stall selling tacky but heavy sausages. Then he remembered that he couldn't taste food. He didn't even need to eat. At least hunger wasn't one of his concerns. He sighed and tried not to let the delicious aroma of food cock-tease his nose.

He spied a little woman with pale blonde curls looking down at the hem of her weathered gown as she walked on the opposite lane of the street, as if she was afraid to look anyone in the eye. She seemed to be well shaped and adorable. Then Threne remembered that he couldn't get an erection anymore.

Damn, and she probably needed a good dicking too, unless she was the type to go after women only. Threne peeked back at her face. He couldn't see the color of her eyes, but her mouth was a perfectly rosy bud, not too large, but certainly not small at all.

And she was just too timid. He knew because she accidentally bumped into him, squealed, and apologized so profusely, so meekly, and with such a frightened voice, that Threne actually pitied her. When he spotted a bruise just barely peeking out from under her long sleeve, he knew that someone had grabbed her wrist in a very inappropriate way. Someone must have been cruel to her.

Threne told her there was no problem and went on his way. A moment later, he heard her voice again, calling out to him. He paused, turned around, and that pale haired woman was rushing towards him, holding out a pouch.

That was his pouch! There was gold inside that thing!

Awwww. Her eyes were a combination of blue and green, a sweet cyan. Her nose was small and lightly upturned. Her face was fairly round, except for her small jaw and delicately pointed chin.

He took the pouch, thanked her, and stood in the street for a moment, watching her hurry away.

He shrugged. Might as well try her out.

Threne waited a few more minutes and then he followed the woman as discreetly as he could.

***

Once she was inside her home, just outside the Commerce District, her father pulled her into the kitchen and put a pale blue gown over a wooden chair.

"Hurry! Put this on, but be careful. It's the best I could afford." He said that while he wore his fine waistcoat and gold buttoned shoes.

Danetta waited for him to leave her and then she worked on removing her everyday dress from her body. First she pulled her brown jacket over her head, which was discreetly pinned to a matching stomacher. Then she untied the single layer of a skirt and rid herself of it in a similar fashion. There was no over-skirt, sadly. She would have loved to have the variety of such a thing.

Danetta made sure her cheap little bum roll was secure around her waist. Just because she was almost broke didn't mean she couldn't attain a fashionable skirt shape. Then she patted the old laces of the stays about her waist to make sure they wouldn't come loose. Her hands smoothed the knee length skirt of her chemise. Then she went to the blue gown her father had purchased.

It wasn't made of a very high quality fabric. It was a pretty color, though. There was even an over-skirt. She almost smiled as she pulled the two skirts over her body and tied them at her waist. There wasn't a stomacher. The bodice was all one piece. She noted that, while the sleeves were long and fitted, there were slightly drooping, padded sections from just the beginning of the shoulder to almost at the elbow. That was unusually lavish for her. She also noted the neckline, which was almost as low as her chemise, displaying most of her bosom.

Danetta knew exactly why this outfit had been chosen for her. A candidate would arrive soon.

Her stomach turned sour when her father returned to the kitchen, his judgmental, gaunt face was scanning her body. "Your hair's disgusting. Tie it up."

Her fingers reached behind her head to gather her voluminous curls into three separate strands. She braided her hair and tied it into a low, rounded knot.

"It'll have to do." He adjusted an old pearl pin on the folded brim of his small, round hat. Danetta suspected that the pearl was false, because he was often careless with it. "His name is Vinsell Rothbeard. He owns a tailor shop, and he's been doing very well."

She wanted to laugh at the poor man's unfortunate sounding name. She didn't. That would have been a bad idea. So, Danetta kept up her blank stare.

When the guest arrived, Danetta ignored the fact that he was twice her age, because that wasn't important. What she couldn't ignore was how rude the man was. He was always licking his lips when he met her eyes, and he refused to call her by her name. He just called her, "His Little Lambkin."

She reached a point where she couldn't stand it. She looked at him, curtsied, and said, "My name is Danetta Saivio, Mr. Rothbeard."

Danetta knew she was in trouble when the candidate made a dismissive gesture with his fashionable cane. Once he had left the building, her father took his own fashionable cane and swung it as hard as he could onto her back.

And again.

And a third time.

And a few more times.

And she coughed and cried all the while.

It always hurt. She could never get used to it.

When he was done, he left her in the tiny family room, kneeling and heaving beside an empty fireplace. As he walked off, probably to get drunk and take a nap in his bedroom, she heard him say, "I'll have to sell you at the auction, then."

Danetta squeaked out a tiny wail. Her fingers were pressed against a red, wet face. She shuffled over to a window and mindlessly let her eyes dart about the streets of the Inner Residential District. She nudged a latch aside and opened the window. She had only wanted some air, but she found something else.

An old woman with a patched up cloak was calling out from across the street, "Free wishes! Free wishes! I shall pray to the God of Hope for your sake! All for free!"

She was desperate enough to give it a good try. She hollered to the woman, "Is there a limit to the amount?!"

The old woman looked both ways, and then she crossed the street over to the window. Her face had more lines than an angry potter's project. Her eyes were a pale gray.

"There is a limit, unfortunately," the old woman said, but she smiled. She was missing most of her teeth. "You may have up to three wishes, and I will pray to the God of Hope for you." She curtsied like a very proper gentlewoman. "My name is Ilai. I'm grateful to meet you, Young Miss."

Why in the world any god would listen to this old woman was a question Danetta didn't feel like entertaining. She wasn't feeling especially logical at that moment. Her voice changed to something quiet and delicate. "I only have two wishes, Madam."

Ilai waved her hand around as if she were a wise priest, and then she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and turned her head to blow her nose. "I'm terribly sorry about that." As she folded her handkerchief and put it away, she said, "That's fine, simply tell me what your wishes are, and I will pray for you."

Danetta gave a short laugh, wiping her face with her sleeve. "Well, first, I want my father to gain enough money to pay off his gambling debt."

"Such a sweet little wish." The woman sniffed hard, as if she had difficulty breathing, and then nodded. "What's your second wish?"

"I want a husband!" She paused, realizing that she had shown too much vigor. She shrunk back a little. "I mean, I want a physically strong husband that will respect me. He doesn't need to be rich or handsome. I only ask for strength and respect."

Ilai clapped the backs of her hands together in an X shape, bowed her head, and mumbled something. Then she looked back up at Danetta with a firm expression. "I have prayed to the God of Hope! I do believe that he will eventually grant your wishes, because they were very modest."

"Modest?" She shook her head, her fingers gripping the edge of the windowsill. "I thought I was asking for too much."

"Your first wish was for the benefit of another," the old woman said, folding her arms. She nodded again. "Your second wish was for yourself, but it was a reasonable request. You didn't ask for a prince with ever flowing coffers of gold, now did you?"

"You're a very kind person," Danetta said, reaching into her sleeve. Then she remembered that she was wearing a different gown than she was accustomed to. She held out her hand, fingers pointing up to the sky. "Please, wait here."

She went to the kitchen to look into the sleeve of her old gown. She found her very small pouch and she fingered the inside in search of a copper coin. She knew she shouldn't be giving money away, since she honestly didn't have much of it, but she thought that this Ilai person probably needed the coin more than she did.

She returned to the window and held out the coin for the old woman. "Please, take it," she said softly.

Ilai's withered finger slid the coin away. Then she held out her other hand, which was a closed fist, and said, "I wish that every kind person in the world would be rewarded, but the world is far too cruel for my wish to be granted."

Danetta thought that perhaps the woman wanted to give her something. She held out her pale hand and mentally ordered herself to be grateful for whatever it was, even if it turned out to be an offensive object, like a dead spider or a long thorn. For all she knew, this poor, dear woman could have lost a chunk of her mind.

When Ilai's fist opened over Danetta's palm, what fell were two golden coins.

"What?" Danetta stared at the money. "No! Madam, please! Take them back!" She tried to push the coins back to the old woman's hand, but the stubborn creature stepped away from the window and beamed at her, completely unashamed of her less than complete set of teeth.

"I shall give you another reward," Ilai said, tilting her head.

"Another one?" Danetta shook her head. Then she made a beckoning gesture. "Come inside, Madam! Have a cup of water!" She knew that this woman had to be insane, or physically ill, and she was willing to risk another beating from her father to try to nurse her, even if for a few precious moments.

Witch-like, confident and eerie, the old woman cackled at Danetta, earning a few curious looks from nearby pedestrians. Still, nobody stopped to give her too much attention. Then she said to Danetta, "I will give you a small glimpse of the future. Go off to the Game Hall tonight, an hour after the sun sets. You'll find a friend who will guide you, and through him, you shall have happiness!" Her gray eyebrows wiggled.

And not even waiting for a response, Ilai, who seemed to think she was a prophet to the God of Hope, zoomed down the street at an alarming speed for such an old woman. Danetta leaned out the window to try to find her, but she had basically disappeared.

She looked back down at the two gold coins in her hand and briefly considered doing just as Ilai had suggested. It would be dangerous, though, to be a lone woman with few friends walking the streets at night, and off to the Game Hall, no less! Women weren't forbidden from gambling there, but they were often the wealthier sort, and they always had bodyguards.

Well ... she could try to walk just a few feet in one direction, and then the opposite, just to peek around, in case someone interesting did show up.

***

Ilai hurried to the nearest empty alley and waited to make sure that nobody was watching her.

Then she was nothing but a black and red mass of oozing smoke.

Then Threne was there, wearing his brown cloak, feeling incredibly excited. There was a challenge here! He held up his thin fingers and a small, diamond shaped jewel of a blood red color appeared, hovering over the tip of his middle finger.

"Did you get that?" he whispered to the jewel. He was sniffing, but he was smiling. "That should be two years, right?" He rubbed his red nose with his free hand.

He heard the little jewel drone out in an androgynous, boring, cold voice, "Wish one: to have her father gain enough money to pay off his gambling debt. Wish two: to have a husband that is physically strong and would likely respect her. All previously stated wishes are within the rules. If you grant these wishes, two years will be removed from your sentence. Do you accept these wishes?"

"Fuck yeah."

The jewel said, "Wishes accepted."

He held up a finger with his other hand, as if he was talking to a person. "I'm so god damn bored that I need a challenge, so I want to add another wish. You remember that duke I used to work for? Did you record his wish?"

"Wish one: to marry a woman that would likely respect him, preferably a woman that is physically attractive according to his standards, but not a requirement. The previously stated wish is within the rules. If you grant this wish, one year will be removed from your sentence. Do you accept this wish?"

"You bet your nonexistent ass I do."

"Wish accepted."

"Alright then. See you later." The little red jewel disappeared. He almost missed it.

***