In the Shadow of the Dragon (Corsair and Xana)

Ellistar groaned a little, leaning his head into her face as she tugged playfully at his ear. "I... that is...". He hesitated, feeling unaccountably shy - a strange feeling, given what they'd just done. But then, she was asking about his experience with other women, now. "It... does it bother you, me talking about..?". Astrid responded by sucking on his earlobe and tangling her fingers in his long blonde hair, so perhaps it didn't bother her. Which led him to fill his hands with her shapely rear, squeezing the firm-muscled flesh as she bit at his ear and throat.

"I... well, I found it pleasurable. As for the women I was with..?". He shrugged, just a little, and felt awkward once more. "They seemed to enjoy it. But they were well-paid by my father, so I couldn't tell you how much of it was genuine.". Still, the thought of Astrid on her hands and knees like that? Fuck, if it wasn't helping him get hard once more. So he squeezed her rear again, turning his head and finding her mouth and feasting on her until he gasped for air as the kiss ended. "Still, we could find out."

He kissed her again. As he did he spread her rear and toyed with the tight bud of her sphincter. When the kiss broke he bit gently at her chin and jaw, then down her throat. "Would you like that?" he teased. "Pressed into the bed, this fieass in the air, offering yourself to me?"
 
“Why would it bother me?” Astrid teased, experimenting on her husband by licking his throat and breathing on it, seeing how he reacted to the alternating of sensations from hot to cool. “It was from before we met, wasn’t it? I can’t lay claim to your entire past now.” Traveling back up the smooth column of his neck, she sucked on his earlobe, tangling fingers in his hair. “Besides, you are quite clearly mine now.”

And then Ellistair was kissing her, and growing hard underneath her once more, and damn, that was hot. And his words, around finding out? That made her shudder, rather looking forward to it. And now he was exploring her, lips and teeth on her neck and his hands on her ass. Pressing against her ass. Shuddering became a gasp now, as he pushed in, tight muscles squeezing down on his finger.

"Would you like that?" he teased. "Pressed into the bed, this fine ass in the air, offering yourself to me?"

“Maybe…We could…find out…” she groaned, feeling his work deeper in her ass. With one last kiss, matching his rhythm inside her, she pulled away. She sauntered over towards the massive bed, on a mahogany frame with a large canopy, covered in gray and white furs. Crouching on all fours, she slinked across the bed like a cat. Back arched, ass high in the air, face pressed against the covers as she met her husband’s eyes. “Like this, husband? Like the sight of your wife presenting herself to you? Or, would you like this better?”

Bracing on one arm, she brought the other down, between her thighs. Fingers spread lips apart, still dripping with his cum. She moaned, pushing two digits deep inside herself, putting on a show for her beloved Ellistair, and getting even wetter at the thought of him watching her. “Fuck…love…I want you…I want you inside…”
 
Ellistar stared, transfixed and stroking his hard, sticky cock while Astrid demonstrated she was no 'blushing bride'. The sight of her, ass up in the air and fingers buried in her sex, was amazing. And the sounds of her begging for him to take her were even better. He wasted no time climbing up behind her, running his hands over her slick thighs as he bit lightly at her firm buttocks. "Here?" he asked, voice husky with lust as he stroked her dripping lips. She parted easily to his touch as he slid his fingers in with hers. "You want me inside here? Like this?"

She stiffened and moaned as his fingers filled her, and he could feel her juices and his cum drip down his hand. He moved his wrist, adding a third finger with a wet sound, stretching her walks around the digits. "Did you touch yourself like this, thinking of this night?" he whispered, lips against her rump. "I did.". He let his cock rub against her thigh. "More than once, I had to clean myself off, imagining you.". His thumb brushed upwards, exploring the cleft of her ass. "But you are better than my wildest dreams, my Astrid."

Grinning, remembering how she moaned as he played with her ass earlier, he pressed the pad of his thumb against her opening. Then, keeping his fingers buried in her pussy, he pushed his thumb into her. "Is this how you wanted me inside you?" he asked with a grin, reaching forward to work his free hand between the matress and her full breast. "Thick and deep, filling you?"
 
Astrid might have wanted her husband’s dick inside her, but she wasn’t complaining about the attention he was showing her. Not complaining as his thick fingers filled her, stretching her against her own. Not even complaining as he breached her ass again, the sensation new and exciting. And his body was hot and hard against her back, reaching forward to cup her breast. Altogether, the sensation bleed into one another, filling her with bliss as she hungered for more of him.

“Damn, you feel so good in me,” she whimpered, grinding back against Ellistair’s hand as he teased her. “So much better than all my fantasies of you.” She let him fuck her cunt and ass with his hand, rubbing her clit as he stroked in and out. Damn, but it was throbbing, needy, and she squirmed as she played with herself, the pleasure damn near overwhelming.

Sudden rain lashed the windows and roof, pounding hard against stones and glass. Astrid shivered, though she couldn’t say for certain it was because of the downpour. More likely it was because his rhythm inside her was delightful and she drew to yet another climax. Fuck, she could never make herself cum this many times in a night all alone. “Ellistair, love, fuck, I am…fuck! I am close…Please…please, I want you… inside when I cum.”
 
Lightning flashed, casting long shadows across the bed and making Astrid's bare body seem to glow a bluish-whitd for an I stand. Thunder crashed, rattling the window glass in it's frame, but he could still hear Astrid begging for him. For him. "As you wish, my love," he gasped, scrambling to kneel behind her. He was glad she was close, because he was pretty sure he would have cum while fingering he'd if this had gone much longer. Which led to images of his seed spraying across her body, dripping from her ripe breasts and trickling down her belly...

His fingers slid free and he gripped his aching cock, feeling her juices on his hand and shaft as he rubbed against her dripping lips. She was so wet when he thrust in that, for a moment, he wasn't sure he'd actually entered her. There'd been no resistance at all, as his cock filled her. But she moaned and clenched around him, and her slick grip on his meat demonstrated conclusively that he had taken her again. "Astrud," he groaned as she pushed back, meeting his thrust. "Astrid.". As he did he began moving his hips, his belly striking her ass again and again as he slammed into her. "Astrid... fuck, Astrid... I'm close..."

The slap of flesh on flesh filled the bedroom, competing with the liquid sound of his cock driving I to her again and again. He leaned forward, gripping her shoulders, pulling her back onto his cock as he drove himself into her cunt again and again. Words lost meaning as he fucked her, transforming into an I coherent refrain if lust. "Fuck. Astrid. Fuck. Yes. So... oh, yes. Fuck. Fuck. Me.". Lightning flashed again, casting her into Stark relief. Letting him see his cock, slick with her desire, as it slammed I to her once more. He screamed as the thunder boomed, throwing his head back as pleasure overwhelmed him. His hips jerked wildly as he spent himself in her depths, his seed mingling with the cum he'd already left in her glorious body.
 
Oh, Astrid found she liked this. Ellistair felt even thicker from behind and seemed to hit even deeper. And she could meet his thrusts with the same force. Which meant she could get fucked as hard as she wanted, moving back against her husband. So their third coupling wasn’t as long as the first two, but it was just as intense, as she bucked upon his thick cock, chasing yet another orgasm. And when she could no longer move, held captive to bliss, Ellistair gripped her should and fucked himself with her body, using her pulsing slit hard and fast until yet another climax filled her.

She collapsed into their bed and he followed close behind, both of them sweaty and sticky and satisfied. The rhythmic sound of rain was soothing, and it would have been easy to slip off to sleep right then. Easy, but she fought it, twisting to face Ellistair once more. “I love you so much,” she gushed, still hardly able to believe it was real. Even like this, hair disheveled and sticking against his skin, he looked so handsome. “How did I get so lucky?” She yawned before she could hear his answer.

The chill of the sudden storm wafted into their room, cool against the sweat-damp skin. Astrid tangled up with Ellistair, pulling a soft fur blanket over their nude bodies. Wrapped in the warmth of his love, sleep came quickly, bringing with it more dreams of lovemaking. Which was probably why Astrid still felt so aroused when she awoke and felt compelled to pin her new husband down and ride his cock until he awoke to orgasm.

“Morning, husband,” Astrid teased, not yet getting off him. The look of surprised ecstasy on his face was absolutely golden. “I am positively famished after making love all night. How about you?”
 
Ellistar woke from confused dreams of lust into a brief moment of thinking he was going to embarrass himself by having a wet dream next to his wife. He was climaxing by the time he worked out that, no, he wouldn't be doing that. Not from the contented sounds Astrid was making as she rode him through his orgasm. "...morning," he managed, brain still foggy as he tried to work out something clever to say. "I, uh, uhm, breakfast..? What?". With a heroic effort he got himself thinking again, aided by a rumbling stomach. "Yes. Ravenous.". He grinned as he ran his palms over her smooth thighs. "And hungry, as well."

She showed no signs of moving, though. And, hungry or not, he wasn't inclined to try and move her. She looked so delicious, astride him. Then a thought struck him. "Oh. Oh, shit. The tokens!". He ran his fingers through his long, blonde hair, wracking his brains. "I know you aren't a virgin, but they'll want to see proof that you were. The uhm, blood. From our first time.". At her expression he looked embarrassed. "Yes, yes, I know it sounds stupid to you. But it's proof that any children you bear are my children.". He thought about that. "Somehow. Because it really does sound stupid, put that way."

As he thought, he could hear voices in the hall. A few he recognized - his father, and his grandfather the king, and the Lord Chamberlin. A few others that belonged to the PrivyCouncil. And one he didn't recognize at all...



"If your son hadn't just married my daughter, I'd kill you for that.". The words were level and almost casual, but everyone watched carefully as Haldebar's stance shifted slightly. With his guard, there were almost a dozen men facing the grey-clothed Senechal of Fearfire. None of them were in a hurry to draw his anger, or to temp the Dragon's fury by harming him.

Crown Prince Reynart licked his lips, and chose his words carefully. "I meant no offense, and I apologize if my words were..."

"Accepted." Haldebar replied, cutting him off "I jumped to conclusions, thinking you were calling my daughter a strumpet, when you called her a strumpet."

"I believe," King Giles harumphed, preventing his son from speaking further, "that you were offering an explanation for why we would find no tokens of your daughter purity?"

Haldebar hooked his thumbs in his sword belt, and lifted an eyebrow. Frankly, he didn't see what the fuss was. In his day, a lady liked a lass who'd learned a trick or two. Kept the long nights interesting, and made you feel proud that you were the one she'd chosen. But times changed and people were strange. "See, it's like this," he drawled. "The ladies of the Mount aren't as pampered as the ladies of Landis. The Dragon, he don't see things like that. Everyone learns to ride and fight, and reading and a whole host of things. And a lady who rides a saddle, well, her...". What the hell was the euphamism? "Her maidenhead breaks. Fact."

King Giles nodded slowly at that. Clever, that king. Reynart, though? Haldebar watched the question boil out. "So, there is no proof?"

"Guess not.". Fuck, this was the Crown Prince!

"Then how are we to be assured of her purity?"

Haldebar snorted. "She's Drakul, raised her whole life on Fearfire.". He smiled a nasty little smile. "But if you're worried, I guess you could take it up with the Lord of the Twelve Kingdoms."

"Ten," some pompous oaf corrected. "there are ten kingdoms."

"Well, sure," Haldebar agreed cheerfully. "Now."
 
"I know you aren't a virgin, but they'll want to see proof that you were. The uhm, blood. From our first time.”

Lips pursed and brow furrowed as last night’s concerned bubbled back up to the forefront. Ellistair could read her expression and agreed the whole ritual seemed stupid, and still, she could see him racking his brain for some solution.

“What if I made a big fuss about your missing purity?” She teased, digging fingers at his sides. “Oh no, Prince Ellistair was far too talented a lover to have been a virgin on his wedding night. I am scandalized by this turn of events.” She laughed, but Ellistair didn’t join her, his face stoic in concentration. Quieting herself, she could hear the conversation happening just beyond their bedroom door. The only voice she could pick out was her father’s, coming to her defense with some excuse about horseback riding. Perhaps there was no need to worry over the missing proof.

Again and again, however, one man kept harping on her “purity.” As if that was the only aspect of her that mattered. As if that was why Ellistair had fallen for her. Did nothing else matter? She could speak and read four languages, boasted proficiency in a dozen weapons and was the best rider on Fearfire, after her father. Oh, let that jerk say it to her face! A duel to first blood ought to settle the matter.

Suddenly irritated, she pushed herself off Ellistair and dressed. She couldn’t listen to this gossip on an empty stomach. But she was hardly dressed when there was a knock at the door. Turning toward Eliistair, who was nearly dressed himself, he nodded, and she moved to answer it.

“Ah, Princess Astrid,” a man she didn’t quite recognize acknowledged. Nor did she recognize her new title, sitting strangely in her ear until she put it together. “May we come in?”

“Umm, Lord…?” she asked, not hiding her confusion. Ellistair had rattled off almost four dozen Lords and Ladies yesterday, and Astrid had keep maybe half of them straight.

“Lord Chamberlin, Haryld Chester,” he filled in for her. A portly man, with thinning brown hair and rosy cheeks. “We just need to come in for a few moments, and confirm consummation.”

“Right,” Astrid acknowledged, standing to one side to let the group pass through. She recognized the King, of course, and Ellistair’s father, as well as her own. Beyond that though, they were strangers, filling the room and eying her. Judging her, for something Ellistair hadn’t even cared about. “Afraid there isn’t much proof to be found.”

“Yes, your father suggested as much. On account of horseback riding,” another man she didn’t recognize said. There was a hint of disbelief in his voice, as though he’d heard that story before. “Still, we should check. You may very well be Queen one day, and your children would sit on the throne after you and Ellistair. It’s imperative we find something, as Landis future depends upon it.” The group had gathered around their bed, two men poking and prodding the blankets and sheets.

Astrid’s gaze spanned the room. King Giles met her eyes with an apologetic smile on his face. Reynart remained impassive, his contempt for her palpable. Her father looked annoyed and sympathetic. Finally she found her voice, “No.”

Eleven shocked faces turned towards her now. Only the king and her father wore any other expression in that moment. Her father had a proud smirk on his face, and King Giles looked on with amusment.

Reynart did not share his father’s amusement, “Are you refusing His Majesty’s request?” His attempt at outrage was pathetic, after living her life in Fearfire.

“I only think you are wasting your time here, and I would hate to waste His Majesty’s time,” Astrid explained, trying a bit of diplomacy that would have worked in one of her stories. Based, on Giles’ genial laugh, it worked here too.

“I do believe the declaration of a prince should suffice, in this case. Ellistair, would you give the Privy Council your sworn testimony on your wife’s virtue?”
 
Ellistar watched the Privy Council inspect his Chambers - his and his wife's chambers - with a mix of anxiety and anger. Of course they would be looking for evidence. Of course they would. But... "Yes, I would be delighted to do so," he said, grasping at the line offered by his grandfather.

"This is a highly irregular..." one of the ministers began.

"This is a most unusual situation," King Giles agreed. "But it is not without precedent. Her father testified to her status. Will you do the same, Prince Ellustar?". He stared his grandson in the eye. "Was your wife a virgin?"

"I have no doubts about her status, my king," he replied.

King Giles stared at him hard for a minute it. "And was the marriage consummated?"

"Several times," Ellistar answered without thinking, then clapped his hand over his mouth. "I mean," he mumbled, sounds g embarrassed.

The King laughed, kindly. "No, no. It was your wedding night, after all.". He looked around. "Her purith has been attested to by her father and her husband. Unless any of you have reason to doubt her, then custom is satisfied.". Several ministers looked dissatisfied, but none spoke up. "Excellent. Then, we suggest that the Prince and Princess be granted some privacy in which to finish dressing, and invite them to join us in breaking their fast."

Ellustar bowed. "As you wish, your highness."
 
Her purity has been attested to by her father and her husband.

Astrid noted that none of them had asked her. Which was perhaps a good thing, because she might have given an honest answer. Ellistair had lied for her, which preserved her honor, she supposed. It would have been better had he challenged the stupid ritual, and argued that her honor extended beyond her virginity. But the matter was settled and they were once again left alone.

“See love? That wasn’t so bad. All that fretting you did, for no reason,” She teased, pulling her husband close again. Capturing his lips in a triumphant kiss, she indulged in his taste, in his firm body and masculine scent. And then her stomach rumbled, and she really was quite hungry. And they’d need their energy if they were to continue celebrating their marriage.


“You’d let that girl turn my son into a laughing stock.”

Giles Camden turned towards his son, eyebrow raised. There were alone in the council chambers, with Reynart standing at a window and Giles still sitting at the head of the council table. “How so?”

“You stand by amused as she flouts our customs. What is to stop her from turning Ellistair into a cuckold?”

Giles laughed, “If you are so concerned about her loyalty, you must think it a good thing they married out of love, and not political expediency.” Giles could see his logic had not convinced Reynart and sighed, “We both know this isn’t about a bloody bedsheet. What is it you really want?”

“The only thing I’ve ever wanted for him. A good marriage built on solid political alliances with a virtuous woman. And if you hadn’t bent all our conventions to spoil him, I still could have arranged that!”

Annul a marriage to a drakul? Giles shook his head at Reynart’s lack of forethought. “He risked his life for their betrothal, Reynart, did you really think he’d want to annul their marriage after one night?”

Reynart’s brow furrowed, “You have indulged his flight of fancy, and even granted him permission to seek her hand when you knew I didn’t approve.”

“Am I not supreme authority in Landis?” Giles asked, voice low and firm. Reynart opened his mouth to speak, before closing it without a word. Giles continued, “I thought it was a good match because it would strengthen relations with Fairtheora. You are not the only one capable of thinking in dynastic terms, Reynart.”



Breakfast was a grand affair, with three different kinds of sausage, two kinds of eggs, several types of freshly baked bread, butter, jams, honey and carafes of juice and wine dotting the tables. Astrid stood for several moments, unsure where to even begin, still clasping Ellistair’s hand in hers.

Her mother entered then, and not far behind her were Ellistair’s sisters and mother as well. Soon the dining hall was filled with the guests from the wedding, most of whom had not yet begun the trek back to their seats of power. After of round from greetings and congratulations to the new couple, Where Astrid felt as if she had a better grasp on everyone’s name and title, they sat down to eat.
 
Ellistar clasped Astrid's hand even after they took their seats, aware that he was grinning like an idiot and not caring in the slightest. He was happy, damnit, and he saw no reason to be embarrassed about that fact. Even the sight of his father entering the hall, casting a dark expression at his new father-in-law, couldn't dampen his spirits. Astrid was his wife, after all, making him the... had someone just said something. He looked around, finding everyone watching him with an amused expression as the Lord Chamberlain cleared his throat. "Your highness?" he said. "Before the witnesses, was your marriage consummated?"

Oh, fuck. He'd forgotten about this part. The private inspection first, to spare any humiliation. Had Astrid not been a... well, if he had declared that she was not a virgin, she'd no doubt be in a cell somewhere and the King would have found a convenient errand for him to attend to out of the city. But then, a public acclimation of the fact. "Uhm... yes," he said, trying not to add the multiple times line from earlier. "It was."

"And your bride," the Lord Chamberlain continued, casting a nervous glance at Haldebar. "She... she was pure, was she not?"

A decade of training in comporting himself in public kept him from rolling his eyes. "She was, my Lord Chamberlain." He squeezed her hand, trying to communicate both his affection and his increasing distaste for this part of the ceremony. Maybe he'd be able to change it, someday. When he was king.

The Lord Chamberlain nodded, and tapped his staff of office on the floor. "So let it be recorded. May your union be fruitful, and may strong sons be born to carry on the Royal Lineage!" The phrase was echoed by the guests, who rose and lifted their glasses in salute. Ellistar rose as well, and the crowd erupted in cheers and applause as he pulled Astrid into his arms and kissed her with perhaps a trifle more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary for the ritual.

"I'm not lying," he whispered against her lips as he held her close. "You were pure." He kissed her again. "Purely amazing. I'm surprised I can walk..."
 
Again, the lie of her purity was asserted before the guests, and Astrid felt her cheeks grow flush, and not purely in embarrassment. Was that all that mattered about her? But Ellistair kissed her before she could follow the train of thought any further, deep and hungering and washing away her annoyance. He loved her, and that was what mattered. Not this silly custom.

"I'm not lying," he whispered against her lips as he held her close. "You were pure." He kissed her again. "Purely amazing. I'm surprised I can walk..."

“That was my plan,” she exhaled, arms rest against his chest, “confine you to our room so I can take my pleasure form you, again and again." Her stomach rumbled, and another hunger demanded her attention. For now. “Perhaps I will have to try again, after breakfast.” With a last little peck upon his lips, she sat and served herself breakfast.



“We’re missing breakfast.”

“Oh, I’ve no intention of missing breakfast.”

Aevell gasped as Nevyn pinned her against the wall, cheek pressed into the cool stone. She was half dressed when he had pounced on her, corset tight over her torso and leaving shoulders bare. Even over her skirts, his hardness prodded her ass.

“Perhaps I will get lucky, and Ellistair’s wife will have proven a slattern. And my idiot brother will abdicate the throne, to follow his beloved into exile,” she joked, enjoying his lips on her skin, teasing her with the threat of teeth.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up, love,” Nevyn whispered, breath cool as it wafted over the traces of saliva on her shoulder, “it wasn’t hard for us to fake a bloody bedsheet, after all. I doubt they would run into any trouble.” Resuming his earlier attention, teeth dug deeper into her flesh.

“Shh –ah!” she cried, half worried someone might hear. Or that he would break skin. “Not, fuck –not there. Someone might see the mark.” She struggled against his iron grip, urging him lower, towards her shoulder more. A place she could cover with her dress.

“And? You’re mine, after all,” He growled, pushing his erection even harder against her. “Everyone should know it. Should see it, whenever you enter a room.”
 
Nervyn's insistent hands tugged up Aevill's petticoats, bunching them between the small of her back and his lean stomach. "Mine," he growled again, the hard heat of his meat pressing against the cleft of her ass. "You need to remember that, Aevell. You gave yourself to me, after all. He laughed, the sound dark and harsh as she twisted and fought his grip. "And you know how much I love it when you struggle." His fingers roughly gripped her breasts, nails scraping over bare flesh as his weight flattened them into his palms. "Struggle more. Scream, if you want. Who'll stop me?"

"Nervyn!" she gasped out, trying to push away from the wall. The movement merely served to grind her bare ass against his cock. "Don't! Please!"

One hand released her breast and twisted up around her shoulder to grip her neck. Mocking laughter burst from his lips as he pressed her cheek into the stone. "Say that again," he demanded, shifting so that the head of his cock pressed against the opening of her ass. "Beg me, and maybe I'll take it easy on you." Teeth dug into her shoulder, hard enough that a bead of blood started on her pale skin. "Maybe."

"Nervyn!" she cried out, voice sharp with the pain lancing through her shoulder. "No! We... we..."

The words dissolved into a cry as he forced his cock into her ass. "That's it," he taunted, laughing with lips crimsoned with her blood. Laughing at her cries as he pounded himself into her unprepared opening. "Take it! Take it, and remember who you are!"


"I'm not lying," he whispered against her lips as he held her close. "You were pure." He kissed her again. "Purely amazing. I'm surprised I can walk..."

“That was my plan,” she exhaled, arms rest against his chest, “confine you to our room so I can take my pleasure form you, again and again."

"I had similar plans," Ellistar assured her. "Although I'd rather assumed I'd be taking my pleasure from you. So..." he kissed her again, to the amused appreciation of the guests, "perhaps we'll just have to take turns?" Then he heard a low gurgling rumble, and chuckled.

“Perhaps I will have to try again, after breakfast.” She planted a last little kiss on his lips and took a seat, getting to the chair before he could pull it out for her. One of her little idiosyncrasies, he supposed. One of these days, he'd have to find out if she'd had any training in etiquette on Fearfire, and arrange for lessons if she hadn't. Not that he wanted her to change, but she'd be Queen someday and there was protocol to consider. But not now.

Taking a seat, he gripped her hand as he waited for the servants to bring the first course. It proved to be a porridge, thinned with milk and filled with dried fruits and walnuts. A simple enough start, but he knew his mother. She'd been planning for this since the wedding had been announced, and he was certain that several more courses would follow. "Try to save room," he whispered to hsi wife. "It's gauche not to sample each of the dishes that we'll be presented with."

"Oh, don't worry about it," laughed Hilda, Ellistar's younger sister. A slim blonde woman, wearing a blue gown, she was seated to Astrid's right. "Nobody cares about what you eat, not today." Her expression clouded, just a little. "All they really care about is whether or not you produce a whole crop of babies to carry on the line."
 
Aevell let herself scream with each brutal thrust into her body. Nevyn would have her screams, and holding them back would only encourage him more. Each stroke burned as he fucked her ass raw. She liked pain, or at least had learned to like pain, but even she had her limits, and Nevyn loved pushing up against them.

“Please…” she whimpered, tears stinging her eyes, “Nevyn, please…”

Her husband laughed, dragging his cock against the inflamed ring of muscles, until just the head was left in her. Blood still oozed from her shoulder in bright red dots, until his tongue collected the droplets. “Please what?” he purred, gripping thick sections of her hair in his fist.

Aevell hesitated. The moments were filed with the pounding of her heart, and the throbbing of his cock, potent against her tight anal walls. She took a moment to breath, trying to think of how to answer, trying to think of anything but the pain he had already inflicted upon her. Or pain he might yet inflict upon her. “Please…” she gasped, arching her neck as his fingers tightened in her hair. “Please use me, as you see fit.”

The words were hardly out of her mouth before he drove his length within her again, his body slammed hers harder into the unforgiving stone walls. Now her cry carried pleasure and pain, these long, deep thrusts igniting her passion. Five more rough strokes, and white-hot lust erupted with her. Coating her aching insides with his release, he fucked her through it, his seed finally providing the lubrication needed for her to enjoy this.

Finally spent, Nevyn, pulled out of her unceremoniously, leaving his cum to seep form the cleft of her ass and along her thighs. “Much better,” he teased, fingers digging painfully into her breast, “Everyone will smell me on you for the rest of the day. Now, hurry up. I don’t want to miss breakfast.”



“Babies?” Astrid repeated with a laugh, digging into the porridge. She really was hungry. “Oh sure, someday. But not anytime soon.”

Hilda flashed her a wide-eyed look, as if she had said something horrible. “What are you talking about?” her voice was a hushed whisper, “You did consummate, right?”

Astrid released an embarrassed laugh. Geez, why was everyone in Landis so obsessed with Ellistair and her sex life? “Of course we did. But it doesn’t mean I have to start conceiving soon. There are ways to prevent that, until we are ready to start our family.”

Hilda’s blue eyes darted around, “Shush, someone might hear you.”
 
Ellistar tucked into the porridge, contentedly listening to Astrid chat with Hilda. It was pleasant enough, thinking about the idea of children and what would be required to make the children, right up until the moment she said "There are ways to prevent that, until we are ready to start our family.' And then he choked on the food.

"Shush," Hilda hissed, "someone might hear you."

Coughing, he glanced around hurriedly to see if anyone had. Fortunately, Astrid had possessed the common sense not to say that loudly. "Are you mad?" he hissed, fear dancing in his eyes. "Such practices are... are..."

"They're forbidden," Hilda said, jumping in as her brother struggled for words. "Illegal. The sort of thing that can get you burned as a witch, if you're caught. For practices in defiance of the natural order." Her jaw clenched at the words, and her voice became bitter and angry. "It's the duty of women to bear children. They say we're not, not suited for anything else."

"Which is a load of rubbish," Ellisar added. "Grandma does as much to run the kingdom as Grandfather. Even if she does it from behind the scenes." Recognizing his sister's expression, he hurried on. "And this isn't the place, Hilda. Not in public."

She glared back at her brother, ice in her eyes. "Not the place?" she mimiced. "Maybe it should be the..."

At that moment, a trumpet sounded. "Announcing His Grace the Duke Nevyn Bane, and the Duchess Aevell Camden-Bane!" a strong voice projected. The guests rose in a wave, beginning with the lowest ranking among them. When it was his time, Ellistar took Astrid's hand and rose, watching his older sister and her husband enter the dining room. She was wearing a scarf to accent her gown, he noticed, and she seemed to be walking with a slight limp.

"Pray, forgive our lateness," Duke Nevyn said, bowing first to the King and then - as protocol demanded - to the guests of honor.

"No need, my good Duke," Ellistar replied, gesturing to the empty seats to his left. "Will you and my sister be so kind as to join us?"
 
"Are you mad?"

Astrid met her husband eyes with hurt and offense on her features. Why had he said that? How many ridiculous rules did Landis have, and what was the point of this one? “What’s wrong? All I said was–“

Ellistair cut her off before she could speak further, "Such practices are... are..."

"They're forbidden," Hilda said, jumping in as her brother struggled for words. "Illegal. The sort of thing that can get you burned as a witch if you're caught. For practices in defiance of the natural order."

Astrid snorted in disbelief, “That’s absurd. No more unnatural than treating a wound with ointment. Why?”

Hilda’s jaw clenched at the words, and her voice became bitter and angry. "It's the duty of women to bear children. They say we're not, not suited for anything else."

Astrid opened her mouth to argue, but Ellistair spoke the words on both of their minds, "Which is a load of rubbish." That made her feel a bit better, at least. It was good to hear he didn’t agree with the general sentiment in Landis. Still, she wished he’d actually do something about all these customs and beliefs he didn’t agree with. What was the point of power if one couldn’t use it to enact their will?

The announcing Ellistair’s sister and brother-in-law put an end to that conversation, and Astrid smiled as her husband grabbed her hand. Adjusting to Landis would be a trial for her, but Landis would also have to adjust to her. After all, she’d be Queen someday.

Astrid didn’t miss the way Aevell regarded her with cool eyes. The same cool eyes as Reynart, a man who seemed to have no shortage of complaints about his daughter-in-law. Aevell hadn’t spoken to her much and certainly hadn’t warmed up to her the way Hilda had. But she was several years older and more entrenched in Landis’ culture. Truthfully, Astrid wasn’t sure what they could talk about.

Once everyone had sat back down, a new dish was being served. Astrid didn’t recognize it, an egg in a piece toast over asparagus, but it did smell good. Cutting into the toast, she half turned towards Ellistair. Pitching her voice in a whisper, she spoke, “We never discussed children. Surely you don’t expect me to conceive anytime soon, right?”
 
"I... never really thought about it much," Ellistar admitted, cutting into his egg. "I mean, I just sort of assumed we'd, you know, consummate." Irritably, he felt himself blush as he said it. "Quite often, hopefully. And then, nature would take its course and we'd have a child." Feeling suddenly awkward, possibly because of Astrid's casual mention of 'preventing pregnancy', he turned back towards his plate and ate a few bites. "Maybe more than one. It's just... what happens, you know?"

"Maybe not," Hilda said, eyes glinting devilishly as she said it. "I mean...

"Not! Now!" Ellistar hissed, making a slashing gesture with his hand. "Hilda, this..."

"Is something wrong?" Aevell asked as she and her husband joined them at the table.

Ellistar rose, as custom dictated. Technically he outranked her, but she was a lady. A gentleman of any rank still stood when a lady was to be seated. "Nothing," he said, hoping he didn't sound too hasty. "Just... comparing expectations. Astrid is still learning the customs and traditions of Landis, after all." He watched Duke Nevyn draw Aevell's chair for her.

"Well, yes," Aevell murmured. "Your bride isn't of noble blood after all."

Ellistar's eyes narrowed slightly at that, but - to his surprise - Duke Nevyn spoke up first. "Hush, my dear," he said, resting his hand on her shoulder. Aevell seemed to wince slightly at his mild reprimand. "The Lady Astrid is the daughter of the Seneschal of Radharc Realta. Is not the blood of one who serves Verrier Dúrrovalgurth as worthy of respect as... well, as any who lay claim to nobility in his domain?"

"Of... of course," Aevell said. "I... forgive me, Lady Astrid."
 
Astrid recognized that Aevell’s statement was intended to be an insult, but it was also true. She wasn’t nobility. “No need, Lady Aevell. Truth be told, the concept of noble blood is bizarre to me. How is someone noble just because they were born?”

Aevell met her challenge. “Well, how else would nobility be decided?”

“Well, we don’t have a concept of nobility in Radharc Realta,” Astrid explained, cutting a long strip of toast soaked in egg yolk. “But those of us who reside there earn that right, either through strength or intelligence, and often both. Now, if someone has questions about my fitness to be noble, based on my blood, well I invite them to try and spill some of it. I believe we will have an answer then.” She wore a confident smile, bringing a spear of asparagus to her mouth to chew slowly. If her husband dared to reprimand her, the way Aevell’s had, he’d be the first to find her perfectly earnest.

The next course of breakfast was served then, crepes oozing with strawberry filling and topped with a dollop of white cream. The sweet scent filled the room, but Astrid wasn’t sure how much more she could eat. Ellistair had warned her not to fill up on early dishes, but how much was someone expected to eat this early, really? It seemed another unexpected aspect of nobility was conspicuous wastefulness. Turning towards her husband, she whispered, “How many more dishes will there be?”
 
“Well, we don’t have a concept of nobility in Radharc Realta,” Astrid explained, cutting a long strip of toast soaked in egg yolk. “

"Really?" Aevell sounded scandalized. "However are questions of authority and precedence settled?"

Nevyn chuckled at that. "I would assume that the Dragon settles such matters. In a terribly final manner."

"But those of us who reside there earn that right," Astrid added, "either through strength or intelligence, and often both. Now, if someone has questions about my fitness to be noble, based on my blood, well I invite them to try and spill some of it. I believe we will have an answer then.”

Aevell gasped as the implication sank in. Ellistar groaned a little, hiding his face in his hands, and Nevyn laughed aloud. "Oh, well played Princess!" the Duke declared. "But I fear that you'll find Landis a little more tame in such matters. And I believe that, legally, Ellistar would have to be your champion if a question were to be determined in a trial by combat."

"Stupid rules," Hilda grumbled.

"Not at all," Nevyn countered, still sounding amused. "The secret is to know the laws, to understand them." Slowly, he made a fist. "That way, you may make them serve your ends rather than obstruct you." A wink. "Consider that, my dear sister."

Thankfully, in Ellistar's opinion, it was time for the next course. Servants bustled about, removing used flatware and delivering new dishes. He was about to tuck in, when Astrid leaned close. "How many more dishes will there be?" she whispered, sounding annoyed and overwhelmed.

"Uhm..." Chewing his lip, he thought. "Four, I think. Most meals aren't like this, just the formal banquets." He found her hand beneath the table and squeezed it. "It's a display of wealth and power, as much as anything. And, I believe, it is symbolically intended to restore our energies after the wedding night." He paused. "If it helps, I've also requested that the uneaten portions be given to the poor. No need to waste, after all."
 
Astrid laughed into her closed mouth as Ellistair’s comment about “restoring their energies.” “Oh, I’d quite like to disappear somewhere with you now, so we can deplete our energy again in time for the last course.” She squeezed his hand at that, knowing they agreed on that much, at least. Not that sex was the only thing she enjoyed about their relationship, but the culture shock of living in Landis was just beginning to catch up to her. After taking a bite of the latest course, for manners, she pushed the plate aside, “Still, this seems a terrible waste…”

"If it helps, I've also requested that the uneaten portions be given to the poor. No need to waste, after all." Astrid nodded and smiled in approval. Generosity was a show of power as well, after all.

Conversation dominated the banquet hall, as most guests seemed more interested in talking rather than eating by now. Astrid was quiet for a time, observing the guests while they ate, and considering all she’d learned of Landis so far. And, ruminating on how Verrier would proceed in her position, she came upon a solution.

“I think your brother in law makes a good point, about knowing the laws and customs, in order to make them serve your own ends. I should have instruction to this effect, so that I may better navigate my new home.” She smiled at her husband then, proud of the conclusion she reached, before continuing, “Once I understand it all, we will be able to start deciding which laws and customs we will change and abolish.”
 
“You know,” Ellistar mused, “It is a good idea. Not just for planning your eventual overthrow of the customs and traditions of Landis, either.” He grinned at that, uncertain how serious his new bride was but amused by the thought regardless. “But for your own protection.”

“She seems like she can take care of herself,” Hilda pointed out.

“Oh, believe me, I know she can.” He pitched his voice low and leaned in, stealth by a glance down Astrid’s bodice as he spoke to the two women in a conspiratorial fashion. “When I first went to the mountain to seek her hand, I saw her practicing with a sword. Well, despite knowing how magnificent she was, I made a joke of it..”


“Not bad,” Ellistar said, applauding lightly. He grinned as Astrid turned to face him, wiping sweat from her face with her free hand. “Almost as good as a man, really.”

She gave him a curious look. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Feeling cocky, and more than a little turned on, Ellistar entered the training room with a little swagger. “I mean, this is good exercise. But I don’t think you could beat a real warrior in a real match.”

Looking him over as he examined the racks of practice swords, a predatory sort of gleam came into her eyes. “Really.”

“Really,” Ellistar answered, checking the balance on a practice blade. “I mean, women just don’t have the strength to make good fighters.” He made several practice swings. “Not like men.”



Hilda sucked in her breath. “You didn’t!”

“Yeah, well, what can I say?” Ellistar looked sheepish. “I’d just spoken to the Dragon, and I was feeling cocky, and wanted to show off. Prove just how much of a man I was to my new fiancée.”

His sister shook her head. “And what happened?”
 
Astrid smirked, holding down a laugh as she recalled the memory. At least he was keeping up his end of the bargain. “Well, I just had to prove just how wrong he was. And I had a compelling argument.



Arguments brewed on Astrid’s tongue at his statement, a half a dozen historical examples to disprove his claim coming to mind. Strength was all well and good but there were other skills needed to be a good fighter. But she realized the most effective argument was to demonstrate her prowess against him.

“Duel me then,” Astrid demanded shifting into her stance. “Should be quick, if you are so much stronger than I am.”

Ellistair laughed, which incensed her further. “Duel you? It wouldn’t be proper or fair.”

“Well, if you need further motivation, why don’t we add stakes. If you win, I will submit to your desires. If I win, you have to tell others this story in the future. And If you continue to refuse to duel me, then you can consider our engagement finished.” Her face moved from smug confidence to hurt in an instant, and it stung. But if he was to be her husband, they couldn’t begin their marriage without respect.

“Fine, if it pleases you. I will take no pleasure in winning. Just in your offer of pleasure.” Twirling the practice sword in one hand, he stood across from her. “Ladies first.”

Astrid did not hesitate, charging him from the left. He moved to block and she sidestepped right, gliding past him and striking him behind the knee. He staggered a bit as she wheeled around back towards him. She feinted again, to the right this time, but he was ready for it, blocking her strike with his own. So she rolled left, away from the deadlock, and ducked under the follow up slash. Rising, she caught him in the back before he could recover from his missed swing.

“Please tell me you aren’t going easy on me!” Astrid taunted, jumping back from a wild strike.

“Not anymore I’m not!” He lunged again, and she blocked his strike, planting firm on both feet to push back against his strength. He might have been stronger than her, but his wide powerful strokes left him open each time, and she had no doubt she was faster. And faster would win the day.
 
Hilda was giggling now, ignoring the reproving look from her father. "'Submit to your desires'?" she echoed. "Really? You didn't really say something like that, did you? It sounds like a line from a terrible melodrama!"

"She really did," Ellistar confirmed, laughing as well. "And corny or not, it had what I'm assuming was the desired effect."

His sister nodded, glancing to see her suspicions confirmed in Astrid's expression. "Get you off guard and off balance, right?"

"Right." Ellistar looked sheepish. "And it worked. It really worked."


Ellistar hammered at his fiancee's defense, determined to win. She might have touched him once, but that was just luck. He'd been cocky, and hadn't taken her seriously. He should have known better, what with Hilda's example to remind him. Women could fight, after all. But he was taller and stronger, and he was going to win. To save his pride, if nothing else. Although, to be honest, having Astrid right here on the practice floor would be a nice bonus. It was considered unacceptable to lie with your bride before the wedding, but she was beautiful and he'd make sure they both enjoyed it, and...

A riposte sent his sword off-line and forced him to scramble backwards as she pressed her sudden advantage. Damnit! He'd been woolgathering, and his swordsmaster would have torn the hide off his back for that! Never count a victory until you've won! was the lesson that had quite literally been beaten into him. And he'd ignored that. "You're good," he admitted, swinging his own practice sword back up in a desperate parry. "I'll admit that." Then he grinned. "You're really good with that little toy of yours." Then he hammered her blade out of the way. "But it's no match for a real sword," he declared, pressing his advantage once more.

He'd seen her sword-style before, he realized. It was a flamboyant sort of thing, using a lighter blade and concentrating on the use of the point. A good style and a good weapon for fights against lightly-armored or unarmored opponents. Fencing, he believed the name was. But it was no match for the swordfighting style of Landis, which called for heavy, broad blades designed to cut through plate armor and chain hauberks and smash as much as cut flesh and bone. "And that's what I've got," he added, binding her blade and pressing her into the wall. "A real sword. Hard and thick and long." He winked. "Care to yield, now?"
 
“Is that the sword you’re using now?” Astrid mocked, deflecting a blow from the left. Damn, he looked hot, dripping with sweat. But not so much that she missed his follow up attack, just blocking it. Still, it pushed her back a few steps. Damn, he really was strong, which was making her even more annoyed. Had he come in here and announced Verrier’s acceptance of his proposal, they could have been fucking right now! Celebrating. Instead, she was having to teach him a lesson in humility, sidestepping away from another strong blow.

He was probably used to fighting in armor, she considered, noting how he didn’t move to evade as she did. Leaving his defense to plate mail, to focus all his concentration on offense. Not a terrible strategy, if your opponent was similarly encumbered by their armor, but ineffective against faster opponent with a more accurate blade.

Wood thudded against wood as their blades came together again. He just evaded her piercing strike, and was gaining control of the dead lock. That was until she stepped into his space, denying him a position to draw strength from. Keeping him moving, so he couldn’t plant his feet. She forced the training blades low between them, closing the distance between their bodies. This close, he was at advantage, the chopping power of his blade greater than her own, but it didn’t matter. He was trying to win this with pure strength, and that would be his down fall.

“Don’t lose sight of victory,” she taunted, smirk a smidge, before bashing her forehead into his nose. That sent him back several steps, and she capitalized on the opening. Her thin blade struck at the grip of the blade, wresting it from his grasp and several feet away. Defenseless against her now, she caressed his face with her training blade. “Care you yield now?” she repeated in a mocking tone.
 
“And that’s how you lost?” Hilda asked, clearly on the edge of her seat. “Damn, I wish I’d seen that! It sounds...”

“Actually,” Ellistar mumbled, “It wasn’t. See...”


The iron-cored wooden blade stroked his cheek. “Can you yield now?” Astrid taunted, clearly enjoying herself.

Offering a sheepish grin, he slowly raised his arms. “Well, I certainly can...”. And then, light and quick on his feet, he spun to face the blade of the practice sword. The leather bracer if his right arm smashed into the flat, driving it down and away as he continued to spin, left arm lashing around and back to slide under her left arm. Half rolling over her back, half stepping behind her, he twisted his left arm to hook his hand behind her neck. “Now,” he smirked, enjoying the feel of her body struggling against his, “What was that you were saying about yielding?” His voice dropped as he rocked his hips, grinding his hardening cock against her ass. “Because I’m extremely interested...”


“Wait...”. Hilda something need confused, now. “You won?”

“You don’t need to sound so shocked,” Ellistar huffed. “I’m pretty good in a fight, after all.”

“Of course you are,” she replied in a teasing voice. “I mean, I barely beat you two bouts out of three. But that’s not what I mean. It sounds like...”

“My lovely bride,” Ellistar grumbled, “is a veritable treasure trove of dirty, underhanded tricks.”
 
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