


Aphrodite's Reward

by bashfullyshameless



Category: Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-04-23 15:09:31
Chapters: 3
Publisher: literotica.com
Story URL: https://www.literotica.com/s/aphrodites-reward-ch-01
Author URL:
https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=1229251&page=submissions
Summary: <p>1. Dying for love is better than dying for nothing.</p>
<p>2. Much better than fame and fortune.</p>
<p>3. The gifts of the goddess don't fix everything.</p>
Erotica Tags: Adultery, Adventure, Aphrodite, Goddess, Magic, Male-Female Sex,
Oral Sex, Priestess, Sci-Fi & Fantasy, Swords And Sorcery
Average Rating: 4.83





TABLE OF CONTENTS


Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 01

Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 02

Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 03




        Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 01


_Warning: The following story contains explicit violence, explicit sex, unfair
racial stereotyping of goblins and ogres, bald-faced lies and innuendo,
treachery, lazy misappropriation of pagan gods and goddesses, unsafe rooftop
stunts, ego-driven consumption of alcohol, mass immolations, impalings,
irreverence, arson, assault on religious workers, sentient-on-sentient
devourings, divinely sanctioned sexual promiscuity, conscription, passive-
aggressive posturing, adults playing with their food, undemocratic government,
oral sex, adultery, destruction of private property, coarse language,
questionable speech patterns, nudity, unwitting insults, completely incidental
anal sex, looting of corpses, human-on-goblin violence, copious spattering of
blood, numerous fantasy tropes, a lesbian temple orgy, self-important nobles,
workplace accidents, negotiations in bad faith, falls from a fatal height,
weaponized bedding, dine-and-dashing, breaking and entering, stalking,
surveillance, frenemies and the sorcerous abuse of a dragon...  
  
...though not all in the first chapter, of course._  
  
*  
  
Davos chose to die in front of the Temple of Aphrodite. It seemed like the
best possible place.  
  
Five minutes before that, he'd never entertained such a thought. He still
expected that the soldiers manning the city's high walls could hold until
dawn. For much of the night, he stood in the streets below while real soldiers
up above defended the city with bows and spears. Davos hoped that his duties
as a conscript would amount to only a sleepless night followed by a long day
of clearing carts, wagons and other barricades from the city's streets.  
  
Like all the other sailors and dockworkers conscripted from the waterfront,
the young man wore little in the way of arms or armor. His black ponytail hung
from beneath an ill-fitting leather helmet. He had his cutlass and an old
crossbow that one of the regular soldiers shoved into his hands. Beyond that,
all he had for his protection was his loose blue shirt and tan sailor's pants.  
  
Some, like Davos, came along willingly. Others required coarse persuasion. A
mere handful of regular soldiers waited along with them, scattered among and
behind the conscripts to maintain order and ensure no one ran. Davos wondered
if those soldiers had been chosen because they had the influence to secure a
safer assignment, or because they were too unreliable to put on the front
line.  
  
"Do you know how to use that cutlass, Westerner?" asked the man-at-arms beside
him. Baleth, if Davos remembered correctly. Davos's fellow conscripts mostly
wielded cheap spears and axes better suited to craftwork than fighting; Davos
at least had his weapon from the ship's stores.  
  
He wondered how many of his comrades even knew how to use their weapons. He
wondered how many had ever been in real battles. He wondered how many would
stand their ground and how many would run. Clearly Baleth wondered the same
thing.  
  
"I've been in a few fights," Davos nodded. His plain-spoken accent sounded
casual and even a bit lazy compared to the crisp enunciation of words in
Loewen.  
  
"Do you hail from a warship?"  
  
"I've only served on merchant ships," Davos shook his head.  
  
"How does that pay?"  
  
"The pay is lousy," Davos grinned in spite of himself. "Meals are small and
usually cold, living space is cramped and you're usually sore just from
holding yourself upright and steady all day long, but you get to see the
world, at least. It got me out of Murried."  
  
Baleth frowned. "That's why you took to sea? You just wanted to travel?"  
  
"Well," Davos shrugged, "it might've had to do with the girl my parents
decided I had to marry."  
  
"Hunh. Ugly one?"  
  
"No, kind of pretty, actually," Davos said. "Her family had much more money
than mine. It's not as if she was a bad catch."  
  
Baleth's eyebrow rose. "Then why didn't you stay and marry her?"  
  
Again, Davos shrugged. "Didn't love her."  
  
A terrible roar split the night and fire swept across the top of the city
wall. Flames consumed archers and men-at-arms crowded on the battlements,
fully engulfing some and leaving others crawling away or even leaping off the
platform. Davos saw the source of the flame for only a moment. It was larger
than most ships he'd seen, with broad wings and a black sheen to its scales
that partly reflected the flames. He saw its glowing green eyes as it passed
overhead. He felt the hot wind of the air pushed forward and down as it flew
past. Between the noise and the rush of wind, it seemed as if the whole world
shook.  
  
He may have heard laughter, too, carried through the night on those wings, but
he wasn't sure. There were soon other things to worry about.  
  
Survivors on the walls tried to rally, but the effort soon turned to cries of
pain and panic. Dozens of smaller, humanoid black shapes came leaping over the
side onto the walls. Blades flashed. More screams split the night. Too few men
remained on the walls to hold back the goblins, who appeared to hardly need
ladders or ropes to scale the walls from the other side.  
  
"Bet you wish you'd married the girl now," Baleth grunted, and then called out
loudly, "Hold ground! Sergeant Carstwick!" he yelled across the line to his
right. It wasn't that broad a line; the city streets were no more than ten
yards across. "Sergeant Carstwick, are we--Sergeant? Where are you--?"  
  
Davos didn't need to look. He knew the fat sergeant was already running as
fast as his chubby legs could carry him, and that others ran with him.  
  
"Baleth!" Davos yelled. A sea of dark shapes and the green flames of goblin
fire flooded the other end of the street. Goblin slingers hurled their fire in
every direction, burning houses and shops as well as setting parts of the
barricade alight. The charge came in almost the same breath.  
  
He loosed a bolt from his crossbow. His target stepped aside just in time, as
did the goblin behind him, but the third one back took the shot in the gut and
collapsed. Davos only struck home because the number of targets made it hard
to miss. The fires made it easy enough to see the mass of charcoal black skin,
mismatched armor and hungry yellow eyes.  
  
Others should have taken advantage of the enemy's crowded positioning to put
more of them down, but too many fled. Davos didn't even look to see how lonely
he was. He didn't dare.  
  
"For the king!" Baleth yelled. "For your homes! For glory!" He stood tall to
hurl his spear. Whether or not it hit anything, Davos didn't see; he focused
on reloading his crossbow. When he looked up, Baleth flew backward from the
barricade with three arrows and a pair of spears in him.  
  
Davos had just enough time to shoot the first goblin to leap atop the
barricade before his crossbow was no longer appropriate to the fight. The
goblin's eyes bulged and its mouth full of broken, jagged teeth fell open.
Davos found the sight too unsettling to consider whether its reaction was one
of pain or anger. It fell to the cobblestone street beside him, dead from the
bolt in its chest.  
  
Many other goblins took its place as Davos drew his cutlass and snatched up
his shield. He swung his blade, parried, slashed and dodged. He battered
opponents with his shield as often as he used it to block their attacks. Soon,
he had no time to look up from the melee.  
  
Other men stood their ground along with Davos. How he stayed alive through
those five minutes was beyond him, though much of the credit surely belonged
to those others who refused to flee. Boasting was not in his nature; even when
faced with a trio of opponents, one hammering away at his shield, another
trying to get through his parrying cutlass, and the third between them looking
for an opening, Davos presumed that everyone else around him had it worse.  
  
Davos knew he was proficient. He didn't doubt his abilities. Yet he never
would have predicted he'd be the last man standing out of the whole line.  
  
More goblins streamed from the broken gate at the walls to the city and ran
right past him, leaving their brethren to dispatch this last human soldier.
Sooner or later, he realized, one or more would pause to pitch in. Three-on-
one was impossible enough; four or more opponents would be far more than Davos
could handle.  
  
The one on his left swung further out to the side, drawing out Davos's shield.
The goblin on the right lunged, forcing Davos to parry. He knew, even as his
sword came up, that he was open to the center opponent now. No time to think.  
  
Lunging in with his sword out low, the goblin, too, was exposed. Davos stepped
forward to meet his middle foe, bringing his foot down hard on the goblin's
knee. The step saved him from being skewered by his opponents to the sides.  
  
Yellow eyes winced shut on the middle goblin's round, vicious face as his knee
buckled. Davos brought the edge of his shield and the basket hilt of his
cutlass together on either side of the enemy's head. The goblin made a quick,
painful noise and collapsed.  
  
Davos spun around, giving ground quickly, now backing toward the oncoming
hordes rather than away. He had nowhere else to go. His opponents followed
him, ready to exploit, but Davos did the unexpected again. He squatted down
low, sweeping out with his shield to clip one across the knee. The slashing
blade of the goblin to his other side passed over Davos's head. He retaliated
with a slash of his own, cutting deeply into the goblin's abdomen to leave him
falling in a screaming heap on the street.  
  
The remaining foe backed off. Davos had his first chance to see how much of
the city was already in flames, and how little of the guard or the army
remained, and how freely the goblins looted. He realized there was nothing
left of the line he fought to maintain.  
  
He heard that terrible roar again, and the screams of burning and dying people
that accompanied it.  
  
The final goblin opponent grabbed at the small horn hanging from a leather
string around his neck and blew for aid. Other goblins looked up from their
looting or their burning to hiss at him, to hoot and howl and yell for his
blood.  
  
The army had been overwhelmed. Resistance crumbled. Goblins streamed into the
city. Davos had only to decide whether to hide—from goblins who could see in
the dark, and could hear and smell much better than any human—or to pick a
place to make his final stand.  
  
Davos ran. The few goblins to get in his way were either battered aside by his
shield or fended off by his blade.  
  
He came to a rise overlooking the walled estates and temples of a wealthier
neighborhood and spotted a likely place. Davos had little love for the rich,
and no personal loyalties to any residents of Loewen, but there were always
the gods and their ideals.  
  
Love seemed like a good cause to die for. He'd never really known it in his
young life--he'd known love of family, and of friends, but since taking to
sea, his romances were limited to weak moments in taverns with women who
usually expected payment. The marriage his parents arranged had more to do
with land ownership and favors owed between elders than the interests of bride
or groom.  
  
Love had eluded him, but he never gave up on his hopes. He was too young for
that, and knew it.  
  
There would be no such romances for him now. Love was for people who would
live through the night. At this point, it was little better than a myth. As he
heard the padded feet and huffing breath of his increasingly large mob of
pursuers, though, he considered that it was a better myth to die for than the
majesty of the queen or the sanctity of this city--neither of which, truth be
told, were his. His ship arrived only recently, and he owed this queen no
allegiance. It was a pleasant enough city, but not a city with a special place
in his heart. He'd been conscripted right off the docks.  
  
Davos set his gaze on the towering roof of the temple of Aphrodite and ran.
Dying for a foreign city and for someone else's monarch seemed silly. Dying to
protect symbols of love seemed at least relatively worthwhile.  
  
* * *  
  
Bodies and blood tarnished the broad white stones of the Plaza of the Divines.
The city of Loewen was famous for the beautiful religious district, with large
temples to Odin, Isis, Aphrodite and Frey facing one another in a broad, open
square. Shrines to other deities could be found in the square and beyond it.
Statues and carvings in marble walls depicted the successive arrivals of the
gods to the world, the struggles between pantheons, the deaths of some and the
ascensions of others. Loewen's market district was just as famous and larger
in scale, yet such bustling activity did not make for clean tiles and ornate
statuary.  
  
Ariella, High Priestess of Aphrodite in Loewen, thought herself blessed to
live and worship in such a place of beauty. That she would die here frightened
her, certainly, but knowing that the dragon and the goblin horde would destroy
the district and slaughter everyone within it broke her heart.  
  
Blood stained her hands and her white robes. Some of that blood was red; more
of it was black. Before she dedicated herself to the goddess twenty years ago,
Ariella had been the daughter of a retired knight who refused to let his
daughter be defenseless. She knew how to use a blade, and though she was not
as well-practiced as the soldiers and knights who lay dead in the square, she
nonetheless fought for her temple and her city.  
  
Few of her peers and fewer of the laypeople of the city expected to see the
slender, red-haired beauty tear into the goblins with a sword. Ariella cut
down more than a handful of them before the two ogres showed up--and even one
of those ogres now huddled against a statue, clutching at the wide gash she'd
cut into its thigh.  
  
The other ogre, unfortunately, made for more trouble than she could handle
alone. The grey-skinned brute held both her long red hair and one twisted arm
in his hand. Towering over Ariella at half again her height, the ogre's shaggy
black hair and beaten leather clothing stunk of offal and worse. It wielded a
massive club in its other hand, ready to smash either Ariella or whoever might
charge in to rescue her. The odds of the latter went well beyond grim. Coming
within a blade's reach of the ogre meant venturing within the reach of the
much greater monster looming behind him.  
  
The black dragon's claws dug scars in the marble stones of the plaza. Its
breath had already set alight several shrines and the Temple of Frey. The
bodies of dozens of men and women who died trying to fight the beast lay in a
ring around it. Beyond that ring, between Ariella, the ogre and the dragon,
and all the goblins crowding near the beast, stood the Prince and his
Companions.  
  
The carnage paused for a boasting match between the woefully overmatched
Prince Alaric and the lunatic goblin riding the dragon's back. Ariella could
have slapped both of them, were she able.  
  
"Begone with your mob of savages and your foul beast!" bellowed Prince Alaric.
He stood clad in his shining plate mail and clutching his father's sword,
surrounded by his armored comrades. His long blond hair, released when he took
off his helmet for the exchange, billowed in the wind. He was tall. Strong.
Handsome.  
  
Had he been born mute and with a few shreds of humility, Ariella might have
taken him up on his advances. In spite of all of the fear and anguish brought
on by the imminence of her death, Ariella's murmured prayers were interrupted
by a single, sardonic plea: "Lady of Love, if I am to survive this night,
please do not leave me indebted to this man for it. Anyone but Prince Alaric."  
  
The goblin standing between the shoulders of the dragon cackled loudly. He
held his shaking arms out wide, clutching a staff that glowed with the same
eerie green light as the dragon's eyes. A similar, fainter green light shone
in an arc around the goblin, protecting him from arrows and spears. It
deflected sorcerous flame and lightning, too, as the burned corpse of the
prince's companion wizard attested.  
  
"Demands not yours to make!" shouted the goblin shaman. "Demands mine! For my
people!" His voice was low for a goblin, well within the range of human males.
"You surrender land beyond Blue River!" he snarled, waving his hand to the
southwest. "No more soldiers! No more humans! _You_ pay _us_ tribute now.
_Two_ bags of gold, each season, for every bag we have ever paid you. And...
five of your females! Each season!"  
  
"You wretched bastard!" cried out Romis, first of the Companions. His axe
shook in his hands. "You wouldn't know what to do with gold or women if you
had them!"  
  
"I know it hurt you," replied the shaman. "That enough to know."  
  
Laughter erupted from the goblin's troops. Romis and the other Companions
grimaced. Ariella did, too. The shaman's demands for territory and gold might
have been bitterly acceptable--perhaps after Alaric had been battered and
humiliated--but the demand for women went beyond the pale. There would be
nothing for it but further bloodshed.  
  
Ariella's eyes swept the plaza. Terrified faces peered out from behind the
walls of shrines and temples. In times of strife and danger, the religious
district usually offered shelter. Now it offered only front-row seats to
further horror. Somewhere behind her, her acolytes waited inside the Temple of
Aphrodite to defend the sacred space with their lives as she had instructed.
She wished they wouldn't have to see this before they died.  
  
"So be it," Alaric said with a deep breath. He stepped out from the line of
warriors, leaving behind his helmet and his comrades. Ariella noticed the
telltale white glow of magic on his shield and sword. She wondered if it was
that magic or the audience that strengthened his backbone now, for in private
his courage was not so great.  
  
She knew a great deal about the royal family. She knew the emphasis his mother
placed on earning one's place. She knew the crown would never pass to him
without some deed to show it had been earned.  
  
It would have been difficult, she considered, to arrange a more spectacular
opportunity than this for a prince to demonstrate his mettle.  
  
* * *  
  
"Oh fuck oh fuck get out of my way!" Davos shrieked, broadly swinging his
shield to knock the kneeling goblin out of his path. The goblin screeched as
he was flung away from looting its dead victim, and then again as the mob of
goblins pursuing Davos through the streets trampled him to death.  
  
Davos ran on. He leapt left and right whenever he dared, making as difficult a
target of himself as he could for the arrows, spears and other missiles flying
his way. Something glanced off the side of his helmet, causing him to stumble,
roll and force himself back up again, never breaking his forward momentum.  
  
_Maybe I'm doing some good here,_ he thought. _Maybe I'm causing a
distraction. Giving some cityfolk a chance to flee. Buying time for defenders
to rally.  
  
Or maybe I'm just going to die horribly in a fucking gutter._  
  
The howls for his blood grew louder, as did the racket made by his ever-
growing horde of pursuers. He couldn't imagine what made him so much more
attractive than easier, slower targets. Perhaps goblins were just as attracted
to crowds as humans. Everyone assumed there must be something important,
otherwise there wouldn't be a crowd, so why not join in and find out?  
  
Davos hated crowds. He hated this particular crowd most of all.  
  
The streets ahead teemed with goblins just like the ones behind him. He came
to the rear of a great temple, perhaps Frey's by the look of it, and found a
smaller crowd of goblins gathered there. Debris and flame blocked the path
around the temple to either side. The walls of the temple to Frey bore cracks
and scars.  
  
The biggest and nastiest-looking of the goblins up ahead unlimbered his
warhammer with both hands. His compatriots stepped up. The trap looked ready
to close.  
  
Davos ran on. At least his pursuers had apparently run out of things to throw.
He picked the goblin on his right and headed straight for him, figuring this
was it.  

His chosen foe wavered. The goblin's spear shook as he stepped back, and then
Davos was on him. His sword bit deep. His shield came up to block the
warhammer of the goblin's larger comrade. The expected blow was heavier than
anything Davos had felt yet; his shield cracked halfway down the center, right
to his arm.  
  
Jarred badly, Davos stumbled down onto his back. He swept low with his
cutlass, biting into the large goblin's ankle. Howling in pain, the goblin
quickly shuffled away, giving Davos time to shed himself of his broken shield
and to look for an escape.  
  
Debris lay piled in front of the wall. Davos spotted an overturned cart beside
it, and a huge crevasse in the wall, and the ledge up above it... and the
oncoming mob, now heartbeats away. Nowhere to run in any direction.  
  
Davos scrambled up, swinging his cutlass wildly to get his opponent out of his
way. The goblin fell back onto the street. Davos didn't bother to finish him
off. Instead, he stepped onto the large fallen blocks, and then onto the
overturned cart, placing his cutlass in his teeth as he had so many times
while climbing the ropes on his ship. The cart did not hold up under Davos's
weight, but it gave him the boost he needed. He leapt for the crevasse in the
wall.  
  
Goblins raged and howled as he caught a handhold, and then secured another,
and climbed for his life. He pushed himself further, climbing the battered
wall as quickly as he could until his hands reached the ledge.  
  
Small fires continued to burn inside the temple. No safety awaited him within.
At best, the roof offered a moment's respite. Davos spared two seconds to
consider what to do.  
  
Then he looked down and saw the swarm of goblins boosting one another up onto
the wall to climb after him. He remembered then how quickly they had overcome
the city's defensive walls.  
  
_Too many to fight,_ he knew. _Nothing else to do but run. Run until there is
no place else for hands or feet, and then go down swinging._ Davos climbed on,
swinging himself over the side of the wide roof of the temple. Small patches
of tile tumbled away as the temple burned. He ran across the roof, hoping it
would not cave in without sparing a thought as to whether it made any
difference. He pulled his sword from his teeth. As long as he had space to
flee, he would flee.  
  
The Plaza of the Divines opened out to him. Hordes of goblins gathered around
a single large, black beast, whose broad tail lazily swept up toward the roof
of the Temple of Frey.  
  
Bloodthirsty calls behind him pushed Davos on. Dragon or not, he was as good
as dead anyway. Better to go out doing something wild. Davos leapt off the
roof, sailing through the air with his heart in his throat until he landed on
the dragon's tail.  
  
He scrambled on. The monster swayed and undulated, shifting under Davos's feet
almost like a ship in a wild sea. At least, that was what he told himself. A
voice inside him screamed, _Loki's gaping cunt what the hell am I doing?!_  
  
He ran across the dragon's tail, then up its back, and then came headlong up
to the big goblin standing on its shoulders with a glowing staff in his hands.
The goblin spun around in surprise. A field of soft green light shone around
him. It had protected him against arrows, and spears, and magic.  
  
It could not deflect something as large and broad as a human body. Davos
didn't even know what the glow was all about; he merely saw a goblin wielding
sorcery, and took the only action he could. He tackled the goblin shaman
straight off of the dragon's shoulders.  
  
Davos held just enough of his wits to keep the goblin in front of him. He knew
how to take a fall: arms out, knees loose, head tucked in.  
  
The world went black. Roughly.  
  
Then awareness returned. He lay on the ground, sore all over, surrounded by
noise and shadow and smoke. He rushed to his feet. A goblin struggled to rise
beside him, wheezing for breath. Wielding a staff.  
  
Davos opened the goblin's throat with his cutlass.  
  
The shaman fell back. The light from his staff died. For a moment, the world
around him went completely still, and then disorientation from his fall caught
up to him. Davos swayed on his feet, still trying to track his surroundings.
There was a battle, wasn't there? Something scary? Shouldn't he be dead?  
  
"Gnrruugg!" something tall and frightening bellowed. Davos saw the ogre just
in time to duck the broad swing of its club. He dodged to his right, stumbled
over the dead shaman, fell, and rolled out of the way of the next swing of the
club.  
  
Behind the ogre, Ariella gathered herself and looked up to the dragon. It
seemed frozen in place. The green light shining from its eyes quickly dimmed.
Then she heard the ogre's club crack the tiles of the plaza, and saw the
stranger trying to avoid it. The priestess wasted no further time in
observation. She pulled the spare dagger from her sleeve and lunged at the
ogre from behind.  
  
Davos knew his time was up. The ogre had him. Its club was halfway in swing...
and then flew from its hands as it jerked upright and grunted in sudden pain.
Davos blinked and saw a woman in white behind the ogre, arms outstretched as
if stabbing it in the back.  
  
The ogre struggled to overcome the pain. Its eyes opened toward the sky just
in time to see the dragon's maw come down upon it. The ogre's scream was cut
off by dozens of fearsome teeth.  
  
Black blood erupted from either side of the dragon's mouth, drenching both
Ariella and Davos. It spat out the grisly remains in the next instant. Clawed
feet rose from the plaza's streets only to come down again, shaking the world
all around everyone. Flame shot from the dragon's mouth, engulfing a broad
swath of goblins.  
  
"I will be made no one's fool!" roared the dragon with a voice that shook the
plaza almost as badly as its footsteps. The dragon reared back, its tail
sweeping away goblin marauders, human bodies and debris. It blew another long
gout of flame, catching far more goblins than humans, but plainly
indiscriminate in its rage.  
  
Another huge foot came down on the body of the shaman, sending blood, flesh
and broken wood from its staff everywhere. Human knights and men-at-arms fell
back from the dragon alongside the surviving goblin hordes.  
  
"None shall live to speak of this!" the dragon declared. Blasts of flame went
left and right, sweeping the plaza. "None shall survive! All shall burn!"  
  
"Stop!" cried a single voice.  
  
The dragon's head stopped in mid-sweep. The flames cut out in time to spare
the Temple of Aphrodite, and the lone, blood-spattered human standing before
it with one hand up.  
  
"Just... just stop for a moment," huffed the human in sailor's garb.  
  
"Hmm?" rumbled the dragon.  
  
"I can't let you do that," he said.  
  
The dragon's eyes narrowed. Its snout came ominously close to the human. "You
cannot?" it breathed. "And who are... you? No. Wait. _You_."  
  
"...yes?" blinked Davos, who stood only through an act of pure willpower.  
  
"Yes. I understand now. I... see. You broke the enchantment."  
  
Davos blinked harder. He didn't remember when the battle went from having one
dragon to having three, but they seemed to move in perfect synchronicity. At
least now maybe they would talk. Woozy and exhausted, Davos reached out with
one hand to lean on the snout of the dragon in the middle. "Whazzat mean?" he
asked.  
  
"I am in your debt."  
  
"Oh... that's... nice?" He couldn't remember ever loaning anything to a
dragon, but it seemed foolish to look this horse in its mouth. Its fire-
breathing lizard mouth, or whatever it was.  
  
"Tell you what," Davos managed. "Just don't burn the temple. Wait. Town. I
mean the town," he corrected. "Just... just go home and we'll call it even."  
  
He heard another rumble, and then something that sounded like an earthquake
saying, "Agreed." He felt a massive gust of wind, followed by another, and
then another. The snout wasn't there anymore for him to lean on, either. The
wind abated, along with all the dust it had kicked up.  
  
Davos's eyes fluttered open again. The world seemed to spin a bit, but at its
center were several people, all looking at him strangely. There was a man in
shiny plate mail, with other warriors around him, and a red-haired woman in
filthy, blood-drenched robes.  
  
"Wow," Davos said to the woman. "Without all that mess all over you, I'll bet
you're really beautiful."  
  
He tried to say more, but then the world spun again. The ground rushed up to
slam him in the back. "Oww!" he moaned. "My head fell off of my helmet.
Oww..."  
  
* * *  
  
Awakening in a bed rather than a hammock--or less--always stood out these
days. Consciousness gradually returned, and so did the pain. Dull, throbbing,
all-over pain seemed to fade into his mind along with the rest of physical
sensation. It was punctuated by the sharper throbbing of bruises on his
shoulder, his left forearm, his head... and by the burning pain of pulled
muscles in his legs.  
  
Davos moved a little, testing his muscles and the sensation of the sheets. The
muscles worked. So did his skin. Apparently he had no clothes on at all. The
bed felt very comfortable. It was more comfortable, perhaps, than any bed he'd
ever lain in.  
  
He felt a light breeze on his face, coming through a window off to one side.
It was daytime. Of that, he was certain before he opened his eyes. When he did
look, finding himself in a bedroom with grey stone walls, artwork and fine
wooden furnishings, he had a single, overriding thought:  
  
"I can't possibly pay for this room," he croaked.  
  
"Ah. You are awake," said a gentle, male voice. Davos's eyes swept the room to
find a middle-aged man in a fine jerkin and silk shirt sitting in a chair with
a small book in his lap. Beside him in another chair sat a young woman in
white robes and a hood. Blonde locks peeked out from underneath her hood as
she rose. The older man stood as well, closing his book and leaving it on the
chair.  
  
"Where am I?" asked Davos.  
  
"You are in the Temple of Isis in the city of Loewen, which still stands...
largely thanks to you. I am Edward, Steward to Her Majesty Queen Lisanne."  
  
Davos's eyes widened. "Steward to the queen? And you've been here waiting for
me to wake up? Are you sure you don't have me mixed up with someone else?" His
eyes flicked to the woman, who stepped forward with Edward but said nothing.
He couldn't make out her eyes under that thin hood. The silver emblem hanging
from a chain around her neck bore the symbol of Aphrodite rather than Isis.  
  
"I know very little of who you are," Edward smiled patiently, "but there is no
mistake. You have become a man of no small concern. A great many important
people have awaited your recovery. The priests of Isis had a fair idea of when
you would awaken. I haven't been waiting long at all."  
  
Though he listened, Davos's eyes were mostly on the young woman. "Have you
been waiting to speak with me, too?" he asked. Though he'd been through the
most basic of rites administered by the acolytes, Davos had always felt a bit
shy around them. The tales of drunkards, tavern rats and sailors about the
priestesses of Aphrodite did little to allay that shyness, though he knew all
such men were of dubious credibility. Yet the warmth and ease in his own voice
surprised him. "What's your name?"  
  
"I am Cinna, sir," she said, nodding her head in a bit of a bow. "I have
waited... longer. How do you feel? Are you well?"  
  
"I'm sore. Sore all over, really. A little confused, and thirsty, but... I
think I'm well."  
  
"I am to ask your name, sir," said Cinna, seeming to cut off Edward's next
statement. "Your name, and where you are from." She didn't seem to pay any
attention to the steward. Davos considered that the hood might make it hard
for her to see Edward's open mouth or gesturing hand, but he abandoned that
excuse quickly. Cinna's body language spoke of humility and a subtle presence,
but just the same she didn't wait on the man beside her to speak, regardless
of his stature and importance.  
  
"Uh. I'm Davos. Davos of Murried. I came here as a sailor on the _Jaunty
Dolphin_ about two days ago... well. Two days before the battle. How long has
it been since then?"  
  
"Ah," nodded Edward. He opened a small parchment case hanging from his belt,
drawing a scroll from within and unfurling it as he spoke. "From your garb and
armament, we suspected you might be a sailor. You had the look of a foreigner
in these lands. It appears our assumptions were accurate accurate.  
  
"The sun has risen twice since the battle," Edward continued as he consulted
his scroll. "And... yes. The _Jaunty Dolphin_ set sail the morning after the
battle," he frowned. "Several ships left the city as soon as they were able.
I'm afraid yours was among them."  
  
Davos let out a bit of a groan and leaned his head back onto his pillow. "I'm
sorry," Edward said. "Whether your captain and crew thought you dead or simply
couldn't wait, I do not know. I can assure you that no one in Loewen will
mistake you for a deserter. Not after what you have done."  
  
"What do you mean?" Davos blinked. "After what I've... wait." He blinked at
the ceiling again. His eyes widened. "The battle."  
  
"Yes," nodded Edward. "As I said, you brought the battle to a decisive halt.
You slew the leader of the goblin horde. You turned the dragon against its
allies and drove it off," he smiled gently. "You are quite the hero."  
  
"I'm--what? But I--"  
  
"Are you alone here in this city, Davos of Murried?" interrupted Cinna.  
  
"Yes," Davos answered, glancing at Edward curiously. The steward merely
shrugged and looked to the priestess for further elaboration, just as Davos
did.  
  
"What gods do you worship?" she asked.  
  
"Um. All as are appropriate," he shrugged. "I pray to the seas most commonly.
I sacrifice to Isis, Thor, Athena..."  
  
"But not Aphrodite?" Her tone gave no indication of her feelings on the
matter. The priestess maintained a perfectly neutral demeanor.  
  
Davos glanced at Edward for only a moment, now feeling somewhat embarrassed.
He didn't talk about this much. "I took Aphrodite as my patron when I came of
age," he admitted quietly. "I pray to her often, and give to her shrines when
I find them, though to no direct purpose. I have not asked for intercession or
petitioned her temples."  
  
"You are without a lover," noted Cinna.  
  
Davos shook his head. He gave a bit of a frown. "Or a job, apparently."  
  
"You've little to worry about there," assured Edward. "The Temple of Isis
expects no payment for your care. I am here in part to see to your needs from
here, at least for a few nights. The city is still in recovery, and the queen
and king are still quite occupied with that, but when such matters have been
settled, the crown looks forward to rewarding you appropriately." He smiled as
a look of surprise crossed Davos's face. "I cannot say what that will be, but
you will certainly see greater fortune here in Loewen than you would have
expected on the _Dolphin_."  
  
Feeling a bit too overwhelmed to crack a smile at that, Davos only nodded. His
eyes turned back to Cinna.  
  
"You set out to fight for the Temple of Aphrodite," she said flatly.  
  
"I did," he nodded. Then he glanced at Edward. "I fought near a gate, but the
lines broke. I had no orders to go anywhere or report to anyone if that
happened."  
  
"You've no need to explain yourself to me," Edward shrugged. "We're all well
aware of the chaos of that night."  
  
Davos frowned. "The red-haired woman. Is she alright?"  
  
"She is fine," answered Cinna.  
  
He let out a sigh. "That's good," he said. "She saved me from that ogre."  
  
"Do you know who she is?" Cinna asked.  
  
"No," Davos shrugged.  
  
"She is Ariella, High Priestess to the Goddess Aphrodite," Cinna said. "I must
go to her now. For myself," she added, only now showing any emotion as her
voice softened, "you have my gratitude, Davos of Muried. For all that you have
done. Thank you. I hope to speak with you more later, when I am not on the
business of the temple. " With that, she gave another slight bowing nod of her
head and left the room.  
  
"She speaks truly," Edward explained as she left. "I understand she has been
here since you were brought in."  
  
"Didn't you say it's been two days?"  
  
"Yes," he nodded sagely. Then he shrugged off that concern for more practical
matters. "I'll fetch one of the acolytes to look over your wounds. If you're
ready to move, we'll see to getting you settled in new lodgings."  
  
* * *  
  
Repairs to the rest of the temple could wait. The main doors stood secure once
again and the blood and bodies had been removed for proper burial--or
cremation, as was the goblin way. Ariella bore no love for her attackers, but
her anger and will to do harm ended at death. She saw no reason to insult a
foe beyond the grave.  
  
She stood naked in the entrance to the inner sanctum, watching as her acolytes
performed rituals of thanks and praise around the statue of Aphrodite. As with
all such rites, the faithful bared their bodies to the goddess in a quiet
demonstration of gratitude and joy. Ariella's beauty was second to none,
possessed of flowing red hair, a slender, shapely figure and full, pert
breasts. She bore a youthful glow that refused to wane as the years passed;
she looked to be perhaps halfway through her twenties, though she was more
than a decade older. Aphrodite granted health and beauty to her devotees, and
the faithful celebrated her in turn by exercising those blessings in her
honor.  
  
Men fantasized about events within the temple. Not a season passed without
some foolish man caught trying to slip inside. On the one hand, Ariella
couldn't blame them; the salacious tales shared in taverns were not far from
the truth. Even after all these years of service Ariella was still easily
aroused by the sort of worship that occurred beyond the public eye. Even now
her warm body trembled.  
  
Yet few men carried with them the proper reverence for the goddess and her
dominion. They succumbed to lust, but did not respect it. Not all men were so
shallow; some other temples housed men as servants and even priests, but
Ariella's temple was not so fortunate. The goddess refused to lower her
standards. Ariella considered the failings of her male petitioners a shame,
but devotion to Aphrodite had to be for Aphrodite, and not for her rewards.  
  
Today marked Zenobia's first service as the honored avatar of the goddess. Now
a month past her twentieth birthday, the lithe and slender brunette had
completed all of the necessary services to take her place as a full priestess.
Ariella could not help but smile whenever she looked at her young apprentice;
shyness was not a common trait among Aphrodite's servants, but Zenobia never
quite overcame hers. She pushed out of her shell and took her place among the
others as an act of both faith and desire.  
  
Ariella admired her courage. She also appreciated the special twist that
Zenobia's shyness put on her sexuality. Her hesitation often increased the
desire of her partners.  
  
Zenobia reclined naked on the altar, cradled in the embrace of another nude
acolyte with her arms and legs spread wide for her sisters among the faith.
She had spent much of the night previous in secluded meditation. Her morning
consisted of ritual bathing and grooming. For all her natural beauty, serving
as the mortal intermediary for Aphrodite required special care and
preparation.  
  
Once the ceremony began, however, all the avatar had to do was lay back and
accept the worship of the devoted. A proper mindset was important, but the
primary role of the avatar in this ritual was to receive love and sexual
pleasures for the goddess. Aphrodite welcomed her avatars to enjoy the role.  
  
Blonde and lovely Keaswen sat behind Zenobia to offer her intimate and
affectionate support as their sisters in faith saw to the pleasure of Zenobia
--and, through her, the goddess. Zenobia draped her arms on the naked backs of
two more women, each of them leaning in to kiss and softly knead her breasts.
Zenobia's head rolled from side to side against Keaswen's shoulder as the
chosen avatar sighed out her pleasures.  

As the sensations on her breasts built, another priestess moved in to bring
the ritual to the next level. Ariella looked on with open lust and
appreciation as Merra slid on her hands and knees to prostrate herself between
Zenobia's spread legs. The view of Merra's lovely ass offered up a visual
pleasure that Ariella fully indulged in. Her gaze lifted from Merra's flesh to
the face of their avatar. Zenobia looked down, eyes full of anticipation and
her chest heaving with breath as Merra brought her kiss to the wet and hungry
lips at her center.  
  
"Oooohhh!" called out Zenobia. Neither woman at her chest slackened in their
attention. Keaswen offered sweet caresses to Zenobia's neck and shoulders.
Merra focused on her task at hand. Her head tilted only a little, just enough
to allow her to gaze up at Zenobia as the young priestess further lost herself
to ecstasy.  
  
Outside the walls of the temple, many men spoke of the evils of such acts.
Women, many of them claimed, were not to lie with women. Ariella knew better;
she knew the will of her goddess. So did any who had the courage to listen. In
truth, Aphrodite wanted mortals to enjoy love wherever they found it.  
  
Zenobia sang out the first of what would be many orgasms. Her body would be
stretched to its limits, subjected to the attention of each priestess and
acolyte in the temple before the ritual was done. The goddess would see to her
in that time, ensuring that Zenobia would know nothing but pleasure. Zenobia
would never forget the experience.  
  
Ariella never forgot any of her services as avatar. She had been blessed with
the sacred duty countless times over the years, and been overwhelmed with
gratitude every time. Her dreams often consisted of nothing but clear,
consuming memories of such services.  
  
Her hand drifted to the moistening flesh between her own legs as she watched.
Aphrodite fully approved of that, too.  
  
"Ariella," beckoned a soft voice. The high priestess dropped her hand back to
her side, not at all out of shame but rather to end the distraction. She
turned to find Cinna standing before her, still clad in her hooded robes.  
  
"You have news," said Ariella.  
  
The younger priestess nodded. "I do. Your rescuer from last night has
awakened." Her eyes roamed Ariella's body with undisguised hunger and
appreciation. Within the temple of Aphrodite, such open desire was accepted as
flattery.  
  
"He saved more than just my life," Ariella smiled.  
  
"Indeed," conceded Cinna. "His name is Davos. As his clothing indicated, he is
a sailor. His ship departed while he recovered, without warning."  
  
"Will he stay in the city?"  
  
"For a short time, at least," Cinna nodded. "Edward, steward to the king, has
seen to his lodgings and requested that he stay until the queen and king see
him."  
  
"That is what I expected," Ariella sighed. "Regardless. You've seen him. Tell
me: what do you think?" She waited for an answer, but within a heartbeat knew
Cinna's intentions. "Oh, don't tease me," she urged. "Out with it."  
  
"I believe he carries the favor of Aphrodite already," Cinna said with a quiet
smile.  
  
Despite herself, Ariella felt surprised. She had considered such a thing might
happen, and even half-convinced herself that it might be likely, but to hear
her suspicions confirmed... "Tell me."  
  
"I desired him," Cinna said. "He is handsome enough in his own right, though
not extraordinarily beautiful. He has a young sailor's body: tanned, fit,
lean. His words were kind and respectful. He bears none of the disdain for
women shown in other lands. I enjoyed his voice. But I felt lust beyond that,"
she admitted, nodding to herself thoughtfully. "He possesses an appeal to him
that he does not consciously use." Cinna's eyes flicked over toward Zenobia,
who moaned her way through another climax under Merra's relentless attention.
"Should he become conscious of Aphrodite's favor, I expect he could be
devastating."  
  
"And the rest?" asked Ariella, openly intrigued.  
  
"He seems bright, and earnest. I felt compassion and humility. I heard his
story, though not many details. He thought he might die, and decided to die
for a worthy cause. So he came to the temple during the battle."  
  
Ariella gave a slow nod. "He came to defend Aphrodite."  
  
"Yes." Cinna let it hang for a moment. "He has no wife, nor a lover." Her grin
became wide as she watched Ariella's eyes.  
  
"Ooooh please more," pleaded Zenobia. "More!"  
  
The high priestess could not help but smile. This news inflamed her passions
as much as the ritual, leaving her all the more needful. She had no reason to
hold back. Rank had its privileges. "Come," Ariella said, and turned to join
the ritual as Cinna disrobed behind her.  
  
Ariella's hands slid over Merra's ass and her back, caressing her lovingly
while silently instructing her to move aside. She heard a whimper from Zenobia
as Merra complied, and a further wordless plea as Ariella guided both of the
acolytes away from her breasts.  
  
Zenobia's eyes fluttered open to see the high priestess loom over her on hands
and knees. "Worship me," Zenobia beckoned softly.  
  
Ariella chuckled. The younger priestess spoke with the words of the goddess,
but the voice was still her own. She approved of the way Zenobia threw herself
into the role. "As you wish," Ariella said before her lips closed on Zenobia's
mouth in a deep, indulgent kiss.  
  
Keaswen pulled away, guiding Zenobia onto her back as the high priestess
claimed her right to make love to the avatar personally. Zenobia sighed with
pleasure when Ariella's hand came between her very wet legs, stroking her
labia and coating her fingers in preparation for further intimacy. Their kiss
never broke; Zenobia and Ariella slid together, nude and needful, caressing
one another with their whole bodies. Zenobia let out a noise of surrender as
Ariella's fingers slipped inside her.  
  
A trembling hand mirrored Ariella's efforts between the redheaded priestess's
thighs. She adjusted her knees to widen the space, welcoming such touch.
Ariella had made love with Zenobia several times before--indeed, she had been
with all the women of the temple--and appreciated how the younger priestess
improved every time.  
  
They clung together, probed together and moaned together. Soon, Ariella lost
herself to passion just as Zenobia did. Acolytes and priestesses surrounded
them both, showering them with kisses and caresses. Though the two women
remained fully conscious of every pleasure, they focused purely on one
another.  
  
Ariella felt an orgasm build. She broke her kiss with Zenobia. To her
amazement, Zenobia hissed into her ear with a confident, sensuous voice that
was not her own: "You will soon know greater pleasures in my service," the
avatar warned. "Your duty will become clear. Open yourself. You may fear for
your heart; put the fear aside and embrace your task."  
  
This time, it was Ariella who moaned in surrender.  
  
"I will be with you," said the avatar, "and you will know joy."




        Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 02


Davos lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was the second real bed he'd
been on today, and even more comfortable than the first. Laughter and raised
voices drifted into his room from downstairs, but not so loudly as to distract
or annoy him. The thick, rich lumber used to build this inn blunted most of
the noise. The muffled tones of a bard who'd already earned more than his
night's supper kept the remaining noise pleasant enough.  
  
_Only two nights from an attack that would have razed their city,_ he thought,
_and they are in high spirits once again. It must be nice to be rich._  
  
He let out a sigh. That was unfair. Though the patrons of the inn were clearly
of wealthier means than most in the city--Edward had insisted that Davos stay
at the finest inn Loewen had to offer--Davos could not know how much these
people had lost in the siege. Perhaps they had all lost friends and loved
ones, and the high spirits served to push back the darkness of grief and fear.
Perhaps this was just how Loewen dealt with tragedy, and he'd find the same
attitudes in the less elegant inns if he cared to go out and compare.  
  
Regardless, he didn't get up off the soft bed. He just looked up at the
ceiling.  
  
Four years at sea. Terrifying storms, tedious days, the same old food night
after night, laughable pay and muscles sore from simply holding himself
upright as the ship rose and crash in the waves. Davos could count the number
of nights he'd slept in a bed on land over the course any given year on his
fingers and toes. He'd fought pirates, rival crews, goblins on distant isles
and even a genuine sea monster or two. It wasn't all bad; there was much to
love about the life despite all its hardships. Davos saw more of the world
than most people ever dreamed of, he learned valuable skills and had plenty of
wild stories to tell.  
  
He didn't feel like telling any stories tonight. The inn was abuzz about his
presence. Patrons had argued over who got to buy him dinner, and drinks, and
whom he might sit beside. Women cast him come-hither glances--wealthy women
wearing wedding rings among them, as well as their unwed daughters--with a
frequency he'd never found before. People told him how he had saved their
businesses. Their friends. The temples.  
  
Davos could get to like that sort of reception, but just now he couldn't
handle being in such a crowd. He excused himself politely, citing a soreness
of his injuries that he did not actually feel, and headed upstairs.  
  
The room was his for the next several nights. Unsure as to when the king and
queen would see Davos--a thought that the young man still couldn't process--
Edward wanted to ensure that Davos wouldn't have to worry about finding a
place to stay while he waited. Meals were covered, and indeed several people
seemed inclined to pay even further forward for them.  
  
Until today, his belongings consisted of his cutlass, the clothes he wore and
the old rags in his small sea chest on the _Dolphin._ When he was conscripted,
there were a handful of silvers in his pockets and a few handfuls more in his
chest. Now he had a new coinpurse filled with gold, also courtesy of the
king's steward. It didn't make him a rich man, but it was far more than he'd
made in all four years as a sailor put together--and that with comfortable
lodgings, new clothes and meals paid forward for some time, and random
strangers happy to buy him drinks.  
  
He could get used to this sort of living quickly, and that was what scared
him. Once it passed, as all things did, would he miss it? Would he be bitter?
Would that thought prevent him from enjoying it while it lasted?  
  
The knock at his door drew him from his thoughts. He rose from the bed and
walked to the door on bare feet, still dressed in his new loose white shirt
and breeches, though his belt hung from a chair across the room. Anyone
calling on him at this hour shouldn't expect a man to be fully dressed, should
they?  
  
The lovely woman at the door had caught his eye many times that night. She had
a decade and more on him, to be sure. She must have been a wicked beauty as a
young woman. Time had softened her features without diminishing them in any
way. Her light blue eyes and white-blonde locks complimented a smile that was
equally gentle and confident. "Forgive me if I'm disturbing you, sir," said
the tavern maid, "but my shift is over for the night, and I thought to check
on the room and see if you wanted anything before it got too late."  
  
Her tones and her smile charmed him immediately. She didn't come off as a
humble maid. He liked that. "No, everything's fine, thank you," Davos replied.
"Everything here is... lovely," he said, his eyes taking in the shape of her.
From the glimmer in her eye, she caught the double-meaning in his answer. He
hadn't even intended one, but he didn't mind the reaction at all. The thought
occurred to him that it might be good to let the innkeeper know that he'd been
well-attended; it never hurt to compliment someone's staff. "What's your name,
again?"  
  
"Juliana, sir," she replied, nodding a bit rather than bowing. Her eyes never
left his.  
  
"I would ask you not to call me 'sir,' though," he smiled back. "I'm a working
sort, not that I'm offended or anything. I just don't want to go putting on
airs. Call me Davos."  
  
"Mm, afraid the gentry won't like it if you forget your place?" she teased.  
  
"It's less about what they think and more about respect for my peers."  
  
Juliana chuckled. "Well, as a fellow working sort, then, I'll gladly embrace
your humble nature, Davos... though you'll forgive me if I slip and call you
'sir' when in the presence of our loftier guests. I wouldn't want them to
think of you as part of the common rabble."  
  
"That's considerate of you, thank you," he replied.  
  
"I'd have thought a young man like yourself would stay up later in the
taverns. Have you not found the crowd to your liking?" Juliana asked.  
  
Davos shrugged and gestured for her to come inside, as the conversation didn't
seem to be drawing to a close. He certainly didn't mind... but as Juliana
walked past, treating him to the scent of her perfume and another sight of her
figure, Davos wondered when he'd picked up such good manners. He knew
instinctively that he should invite her in, that talking in the doorway for
more than a moment was rude... but it wasn't as if he'd been trained in the
local etiquette.  
  
He also wondered what sort of tavern maid could afford perfume. Then again,
this was the nicest tavern in the city, and Juliana had great charm. She
probably did quite well on tips alone.  
  
"After everything that's happened to me in the last few days, I feel like I
could stand to avoid crowds and adjust a little more quietly," he admitted.
"Everyone else has had two days to let things settle. I apparently slept right
through that time. I'm not quite up for a big party yet." He paused. "I don't
mind the current company, though."  
  
Juliana took the compliment for what it was. "I can understand the need for
quieter surroundings, then," she nodded, "though I don't want to intrude."  
  
"Oh, if only I could have more such intrusions," he chuckled.  
  
"I'd hoped as much," she smiled back. "For myself... I'm sure you've already
heard it said many times, and will hear it even more, but I wanted to thank
you for what you did during the battle. I would have lost loved ones had it
gone on any longer. I might have lost everything."  
  
Davos shrugged. "I didn't exactly have a grand plan to save the day."  
  
"Again with the humble corrections," she teased, stepping forward to close the
distance between them. He noted the way she looked him up and down with an
appraising glance. "I've heard the story from witnesses. Important people come
here all the time. Whether you planned it out in advance or not, what you did
took quick thinking and courage, and no small amount of prowess."  
  
He just smiled. "Thank you," he said. His eyes met hers. "I can't complain
about where that night has landed me, or the company it placed me with."  
  
"More compliments," Juliana observed, "like those I found in your eyes
downstairs. I have to admit, I looked forward to this little errand tonight
with a bit of hope."  
  
"What sort of hope?" Davos asked. He stepped closer, too, knowing
instinctively that he would be welcome in her personal space. Davos wasn't
averse to such situations, but he'd never flirted so heavily or so quickly
with someone he'd just met. Usually he needed more time to get to know a woman
and sense whether his overtures would be gladly received before he dared make
any. With Juliana, everything just felt right.  
  
He sensed that she'd made her decisions before she even came up to his room.  
  
"Hope that you would appreciate my company," she answered softly. "Hope that
you would perhaps want to banish all that blood and toil with something...
life-affirming. Something pleasant."  
  
The prospect sounded as irresistible as her lips and that bare, smooth neck.
"I hate to even ask, but--"  
  
"I'm not the sort of company one pays for, no," Juliana replied without the
slightest reproach or irritation. "We don't forbid that here in Loewen, but I
am not in that line of work. But I don't blame you for asking."  
  
"That's good to know," Davos said. He didn't tell her that he couldn't have
turned her down if she'd answered differently. He just kissed her.  
  
She felt exactly the way she looked: soft and alluring, a mix of gentleness
and fiery hunger that swept around him with a shameless embrace. The feeling
of her breasts against him only stoked his arousal, as did those lips and that
tongue that teased and explored his mouth.  
  
Juliana was not shy with her hands. They were under Davos's shirt before he
had a chance to catch his breath. She let out a little noise of approval at
the feeling of his taut muscles. Her fingernails scraped lightly against his
skin, exciting him further.  
  
She pulled away from him, backing toward the bed with a come-hither gaze that
he could not ignore. The drawstrings of her bodice were already in his grasp.
She kept moving backward, gladly letting the knot unravel and then beckoning
to him with a finger once the job was done.  
  
As he stepped up to meet her again, Juliana sat on the bed. She stopped him
with her hands on his hips, looked up at him and smiled. Her hands reached
under his shirt again, but they explored the waistband of his breeches rather
than his flesh. "You should get rid of this shirt," she winked. Davos obeyed,
and by the time he had the garment off he found his breeches unlaced and
sagging. "Oh," Juliana murmured. "As I'd hoped."  
  
The flesh she found waiting for her there was, of course, erect and stiff.
Davos thought for a moment that it seemed more substantial than usual, too,
but then her hand stroked him and her breath fell across the head of his cock
and such thoughts fled from his mind. All he knew was her touch and the beauty
of her face.  
  
Her lips trailed a circle of kisses around his shaft just below the head
before her kiss enveloped that sensitive flesh. Davos let out a sigh of
appreciation for the wet warmth that brought him into her mouth. Juliana
paused only to look up at him with a smile in her eyes before she welcomed
more of him into her, bringing as much as she could of his cock into her
mouth. Her fingers encircled the base of his shaft, giving him small squeezes
and strokes to enhance his bliss since she couldn't take him all the way—which
was its own exciting revelation.  
  
He'd been with women before, but only a handful of times. He'd had one or two
kiss his cock in a bit of naughty play, but never did anyone lavish such
attention and oral pleasure upon him. The longer Juliana carried on, stroking
him with both her hand and her mouth, the better the sensations got.  
  
Selfish reactions eventually got the better of him. Davos's hips tentatively
pushed forward as his body longed to go deeper into this already amazing
pleasure. It didn't bother his partner at all. He felt a little laugh all
along his cock, and then felt her free hand grip his ass to let him know he
was welcome to express his urges even if Juliana couldn't accommodate them.
She continued to suck his cock, and when his hands caressed her shoulders and
her hair, she let him know with a single gaze that this, too, was appreciated.  
  
"You will... let me... return the favor... right?" he breathed.  
  
Juliana made a deliberate show of pulling back from him as if to emphasize his
length and her enjoyment of it. "Would you like to do so now?" she asked. "We
have all night long."  
  
In truth, Davos would have loved nothing more than to let Juliana continue
until he'd lost all control, but something compelled him to put that off. "I
think I'd like to start this off right," he said.  
  
Juliana sat up straight then, loosening the drawstrings of her bodice. Davos
helped her with that and explored her skin with his fingers at the same time,
finding every bit of her just as soft and welcoming just as her kiss.
Juliana's sexy confidence blended with a compassion and warmth that made him
long to please her. Soon, out of her bodice and wrapped in his arms, the two
kissed and caressed their way to mutual nudity and excitement.  
  
He took his time with his partner. Juliana deserved a long, indulgent bout of
love-making. Davos decided that based on nothing but this sole encounter, but
she had already made his night and he wanted to reciprocate. He mapped out her
body with his hands, avoiding her breasts and her groin at first both to tease
her and to savor the rest of her before moving on. Eventually, those most
sensitive and enticing parts of her body were too much to ignore.  
  
The bed offered enough room for Davos to lay Juliana out on her back so he
could slip down to lie with his shoulders at her thighs. The older woman
watched with eager approval as he stroked and kissed the inner sides of her
legs and used the warmth of his breath to tease the short, well-groomed
triangle of hair over her lips. Davos kept his cool and moved with deliberate
slowness, making the most of her anticipation.  
  
When his lips first touched hers, Juliana sucked in a sharp breath and then
released it with shuddering tones of approval. He found the tasted of her
appealing enough to keep him going. Davos continued with light, gentle probing
with his tongue and his lips, giving him a chance to learn what pleased her.
He had never practiced this with a woman before--the few times he'd been with
someone, she was either put off by the thought or the tryst simply didn't take
such a direction--but Davos picked up on his partner's cues swiftly.  
  
Juliana seemed at once energized and immobilized by the ecstasy of his kiss.
She whimpered when his lips or his tongue eased off and gasped when his touch
intensified. Davos played with her a while, learning his way around her labia
and the rest of her tender flesh. He caught on quickly to the sensitivity of
her clit, and before long he focused his attention there with a slow, constant
motion of licks.  
  
Out of curiosity, he brushed his finger against and between the lips of her
pussy as he licked and kissed. He saw that she liked this, too. His
exploration brought him to quick discoveries that eluded many men. Juliana
seemed utterly swept away by the pleasures he gave her, which caused Davos
further excitement.  
  
He had no idea of the speed and grace with which his skill grew in those long,
enjoyable minutes. For all Davos knew, all men picked up on these lessons just
as quickly once they gave this a try. What mattered to him was the pleasure he
gave his partner and the appreciative, pleading messages in her eyes and her
breath. His free hand roamed her body, tracing against her belly, cupping and
kneading her breasts and ending with two fingers sucked greedily into her
mouth.  
  
Davos continued. He found just the right strokes with his tongue and realized
that Juliana loved the brush of his curved finger up against her inner flesh.
He kept up a steady pace with both motions and saw Juliana's enjoyment build.
He continued this attention in response to her wordless wishes until her
panting breath intensified. It seemed as if she might explode--he was familiar
with the concept, of course, but he'd never gotten a woman there through this
sort of treatment.  
  
Juliana gasped, whined and then crested with a loud moan of blissful relief.
Her body throbbed under Davos's touch. He felt her sex tighten around his
finger and felt her grow wetter between her legs. Davos wanted to keep her in
such a state as long as he could, and stretched the moment out much longer
than he realized. He knew when to ease off on his attentions and let her come
down from that high, but even that was a ride of pleasure Juliana hardly
expected.  
  
When the spasms of climax subsided and she had control of herself once more,
Juliana laughed with affection and surprise. "Gods, that was wonderful!" she
huffed. "How did you learn to do that?"  
  
"You're my first," Davos confessed, gracefully wiping off his mouth, "at least
in this. I've been with a woman before, but..." he shrugged. "Was this
unusual?"  
  
Again, Juliana laughed with joy. She reached for him and drew him up to lie
against her, which he did gladly. The feel of her naked body against his was a
luxury. He felt as if this woman had been made to be loved. "I've enjoyed that
particular sort of fun in the past," she told him, "but you... you're _good_
at that."  
  
She favored him with a kiss before he could speak, wrapping her arms around
him with heated desire and shameless appreciation. She felt vulnerable in his
embrace, which only aroused Davos more. The whole world had fallen away from
him and his partner from the moment they got to the bed; to Davos, there was
just Juliana and whatever the night would bring.  
  
"I'll be happy to do that for you again," he offered.  
  
Her eyes danced. She clearly liked the sound of that. "Perhaps later," she
said, "but now I want something we can share." He felt her hand drift to his
hard, erect cock. "I want to experience this."  
  
They laughed together, caressed and groped and wrestled a little until Davos
got between her legs. The first brush of his cock against her wet lips brought
all of her playful struggles to an immediate halt. It felt too good to tease
anymore. Davos slid against her, coating himself with her juices before making
his first tentative push. He was so stiff and firm he didn't need a guiding
hand; Davos simply drew her legs up around his hips and pushed.  
  
Virtually everything about her seemed to welcome him: her embrace, her eyes,
her voice as she moaned and most of all the wet embrace of her pussy around
his cock. She drew up her legs around his waist as he slowly penetrated to the
base of his tool and stayed there for a moment to savor their union. As he
backed out, Juliana seemed to shake, but her legs tightened before he got too
far. She all but squeezed him right back into her, and her sex seemed to
squeeze his in turn as he invaded her once again.  
  
Within only a few strokes, this coupling became better than any Davos had
enjoyed in the past. His partner felt so good at every turn, matched his
desires and showed every appreciation for him. Davos's head swam with pleasure
as he thrust into her again and again, wanting to bring her to another climax
as good as her first.  
  
Once again, his technique and talent grew in leaps and bounds without
conscious effort or forethought. Observing his partner's needs came naturally
to him, as did a sense of when to be gentle and when to give in to the selfish
urge to fuck. When that need got the better of him--and Juliana as well--he
took her wrists in his hands, pinned them to the pillow over her head and
leaned back a little to allow his hips to slam forward into her in a constant
assault of ecstasy.  
  
Juliana surrendered completely to him. Her legs fell away, remaining parted to
give him all the access he could want. Soon her breath warned Davos of the
climax that approached. He realized he was not so close to satisfaction
himself, and so he was all too happy to continue pushing her along. When he
fucked her into her wild release of tension and joy, he slowed long enough to
savor the moment as he had with their first union. As he had while he pleased
her with his mouth earlier, he fell into a lazy but indulgent pace of
stimulation to let her come down from that peak, but he didn't want to end it
here. He wasn't done.  

She thanked him with her kisses and her embrace, and with her cooperation in
any way she could give... but soon, all she could do was lie back and enjoy.
It was all that her partner wanted, anyway. Davos plundered her long through
the night, giving her more than a few orgasms along the way and granting her
constant bliss in between. When his satisfaction finally arrived, building
from a passionate frenzy into a long, throbbing release that seemed to ripple
through his whole body, he found it just wasn't enough.  
  
He knew it wasn't ordinary. Davos realized he should need rest, and that this
one climax should have left him spent. Instead, while his cock grew slightly
sensitive for a time and his pace slowed, his desire did not. He wanted more.  
  
Juliana happily provided.  
  
* * *  
  
She woke him with her mouth in the morning. Davos glanced toward the window--a
glass window, not simply a portal with a wooden covering, which gave him a
reminder of his plush lodgings--and found the sky glowing with early twilight.
It was about as much sensory input as he could handle, though, given the warm
and decadent pleasures now lavished on his cock.  
  
Juliana gave a little laugh as he stirred. Her eyes looked up at him with
adoration. He noticed immediately that she was already dressed. "I was hoping
to taste you before I left," she said, "but with your stamina, I don't think
I'll quite get there."  
  
"I'm willing to help as much as I can," Davos joked.  
  
Her hands and light kisses continued to please him, but he knew not to expect
much here. The fact that she was dressed and had her hair brushed told him all
he needed to know. "I came here last night to thank you for all you did," she
said, "but I'm left even more grateful now. You were wonderful last night.
That was amazing. I barely slept, but I feel so good I am hardly tired."  
  
"I'm more than willing to share the room with you again tonight if you like."  
  
"I won't be able to take you up on that," Juliana said, "much as I would enjoy
it. I have other commitments. Davos, I must ask a favor of you."  
  
"Please do," he said, propping himself up on his elbows.  
  
Juliana sat up. "Would you be willing to keep this to yourself? I don't need
anyone getting the idea that staying a night here includes me as a bedmate.
Rumors can hurt in more ways than one."  
  
"Of course," he said. "I'll say nothing to anyone."  
  
She nodded. "And could you perhaps... check the hallway before I step out to
make sure no one is about?" she asked with a hint of shyness. "If I'm seen
leaving your room at this hour, it won't much matter even if you do keep this
quiet."  
  
Davos sat up, moved closer to her and kissed her lips. "It's nothing. I
understand."  
  
As he stood and swept his breeches off the floor, Juliana added, "I'm not at
all worried about my husband so much as the other guests." Davos's eyes went
wide and his back stiffened. He looked to her with an expression of awkward
shock. The older woman simply shrugged. "He and I have an understanding, but
it works best if no one else has cause to talk. If that happens, he has to put
on airs of indignation for the sake of appearances."  
  
The cool confidence that had possessed Davos from the moment Juliana walked in
now faltered. "I... your hus... I'm sorry, you have an understanding?"  
  
"It isn't as if he never claimed an indulgence or two," she said with a tilt
of her head. "He knew I was coming up here last night. He doubtlessly knows
why I was not in bed when he turned in. It will be fine." She paused. "Are you
troubled?"  
  
"I'm... I'm sorry, I'm just not used to such things."  
  
Juliana stood and stroked his cheek. "It isn't common in this realm, but it's
not unheard of, either. I hope I didn't mislead you into thinking I was out
for more than a night's pleasure," she said gently. "I love my husband. I'm a
very lucky woman. He is as good a husband to me as he is a manager of my inn."  
  
"Uh-huh," Davos said. Then he blinked. "No, no, I didn't... I didn't read more
into last night than you wanted, no. I'm grateful."  
  
She smiled. "As I said, I can't be here again tonight... but I would dearly
love to share a bed with you when the opportunity arises again." She kissed
him lightly on the lips and then nodded toward the door.  
  
Davos wrenched his thoughts back to the present and followed her gaze. Though
the revelation still had his mind spinning, he didn't feel like the memory of
the night had been spoiled. He felt great.  
  
With the drawstrings of his breeches tied, Davos moved to the door, made sure
that Juliana was just out of sight, and opened it up to the hallway to look
outside.  
  
Standing right in front of his door was a young woman in white robes, with the
hood drawn low enough that all he saw was her smooth chin and blonde locks of
her hair. "Good morrow, Davos of Murried," she said in that strangely
emotionless, monotone voice of hers.  
  
He didn't quite jump back, but the moment gave him a start. "Um. Hello?" he
replied awkwardly. Her name jumped into his head. "Cinna?"  
  
He thought he saw a smile, but she bowed before he could be sure. "Yes," she
answered. "I am glad to be remembered." Her tone didn't exactly convey cheer,
but it didn't sound sarcastic, either. She was incredibly hard to read.  
  
"You wouldn't be easy to forget."  
  
"Am I disturbing you?" she asked.  
  
"No, but I--how long have you been here?"  
  
"Not long at all," she said. "I received portents telling me when to arrive,
and why. Is your companion still present?" she asked as if already knowing the
answer.  
  
"My... I'm sorry?" Davos blinked, his mind reaching for a dodge. He pointedly
did not glance behind the door to Juliana.  
  
"You were not alone last night," Cinna explained. "I could provide some cover
for her departure. You have my word as an acolyte of Aphrodite that I will not
speak of it. The goddess has entrusted me with this."  
  
Only then did Davos glance to Juliana. The older woman pursed her lips in
resignation but then stepped out of hiding with grace and dignity. Cinna
looked to her and said, "Good lady, I appear to be a bit disoriented. Your inn
is larger than any I have been at before. Would you show me to the stairs?"  
  
"Of course," Juliana nodded. She spared Davos one last flirtatious glance
before she walked out with Cinna. Davos leaned out of the doorway and saw the
two chatting together quietly as they headed down the hallway, then around the
corner to the stairs. Cinna offered her thanks one last time to Juliana before
the older woman stepped out of sight. As they parted, another door opened near
the stairs and a man stepped out. He clearly saw their passing and heard them
speak, but took no special note of it.  
  
Cinna then returned to Davos's door. "Davos of Murried," she began evenly, "I
am to invite you to the Temple of Aphrodite. The high priestess wishes to
speak with you. She wishes to convey her thanks personally for all that you
have done, and also to speak with you about your future. I believe you will
find the meeting greatly rewarding."  
  
"That's... very kind of her," he said, "and you. I'm sorry I am not properly
dressed to receive you."  
  
Cinna offered a brief smile. "I am not."  
  
Her reply brought Davos's thoughts to a halt. The smile vanished before he
could be certain he'd seen it. "She wants to see me now?"  
  
"Soon, but it need not be immediate. If you have prior plans for the day, the
sun will rise again tomorrow. However, I believe that sooner is better, both
for her and for you."  
  
"No, today is fine. I should probably clean myself up before going to your
temple," he said. "Have you eaten? I've only just woken up, myself."  
  
"You will have to bathe at the temple before you see the high priestess,
regardless," explained Cinna. "We would be happy to provide a meal. I do not
say this to rush you out," she added, her tones still even and almost
emotionless, "but rather to ease your concerns."  
  
"That's... kind of you," he nodded. Davos glanced over to his shirt and boots
by the foot of the bed. "I suppose I'll be forgiven if I'm not quite dressed
for a formal occasion?"  
  
Again, Cinna almost smiled. "I don't believe you need concern yourself with
clothing for long, no."  
  
* * *  
  
Breakfast was a simple matter: breads, fruits and a couple of cheeses on a
tray. The matter of bathing and grooming would have been simple enough, too...
but for the obvious importance placed upon it by the temple's builders and its
inhabitants. Davos found himself in a room built around a bath that sank right
into the floor of marble tiles. Heated stones in baskets at the corners of the
tub kept the water warm. Davos wondered if the tub was filled through pipes or
magic. Both options seemed equally extravagant and equally plausible.  
  
Curtains offered some degree of privacy, while rows of candles provided plenty
of light. Davos scrubbed himself with washcloths and even managed to get a
comb through his scraggly hair once it was washed. Given the oils and other
implements, he suspected that bathing was something the acolytes did to relax.
Knowing that he would speak with the high priestess herself made that a little
unlikely. For all the words and gestures from Cinna and the other robed,
hooded acolytes that spoke of hospitality, Davos felt like an intruder.  
  
"Davos," came Cinna's voice from behind the curtains, "I have some clothing
that I believe will fit you. May I enter?"  
  
The request gave him pause. Davos immediately wondered why she didn't just
tell him the clothes would be on the other side of the curtains. It wasn't as
if the floor was dirty. The whole temple seemed immaculate. He suspected the
dirtiest things in the building were the clothes he wore when he walked in.  
  
Men and women in Davos's hometown observed a fair degree of modesty. The
incidental sight of a naked person scandalized no one, but such indecencies
were at least avoided in good faith. Yet Davos remembered Cinna's hints of
mirth and the fleeting smiles he caught at the inn. Perhaps he felt secure or
even a little brave after his night with Juliana, but he felt a little bit
bolder than usual.  
  
"Yes," said Davos. He sat upright in the sunken bath. With its clear water and
the light of so many candles, only so much of him would be obscured.  
  
Cinna pushed up one side of the curtain to enter. Her hood remained low. Davos
strongly suspected that she had a pretty face under there, but he couldn't see
more than her chin and her mouth. The acolyte came in with folded fabric and a
coiled leather belt, which she put on a table beside the towels. "I believe
these will fit well enough," she said. "If nothing else, they will likely be
comfortable. They are yours to keep if you like them."  
  
"Thank you," he replied.  
  
Cinna merely bowed her head a bit, and lingered there for a moment before she
turned to leave.  
  
"Cinna?"  
  
"Yes?" she asked, turning again.  
  
"Are we alone?"  
  
"The other acolytes tend to other duties for the moment, yes."  
  
"Have you been watching me bathe?"  
  
She paused. "Pleasantly, Davos," answered Cinna, her tones still measured and
even as always.  
  
Davos felt brave again--and playful. He took a risk, hoping he had read the
mysterious woman's interest correctly. "I'm about finished," he said. "You
don't have to leave if you don't want to. I won't tell anyone," he added with
a grin.  
  
Cinna remained where she stood. "The goddess values discretion."  
  
He wondered if that was an exit line, but she stayed in the room, facing him.
Clearly she could see perfectly well through that hood. Davos smiled a little,
gave himself one last rinse and then stood from the bath and walked up the
steps toward the towel. He felt Cinna's eyes on him the entire time. Something
about having a woman watch him like this while naked--and openly admit to
wanting to do so, whether by word or deed--gave him a little thrill. Davos
dried off and then put on the loose pants and shirt, both of them not too far
off from his usual preferred cut of clothing but newer and nicer.  
  
"There are lands where pants are considered barbaric," he said as he dressed.
"Men wear togas or long tunics or even kilts, but never pants."  
  
"I think I prefer barbarism," Cinna deadpanned.  
  
"Thank you for the clothes."  
  
"Thank you for the indulgence. And the discretion."  
  
Davos couldn't help but smile. "I take it you haven't seen many men?"  
  
"I have seen men naked. Even attractive ones," said Cinna, "but that does not
mean I do not enjoy seeing more. You are pleasing to the eyes. Aphrodite is a
goddess of beauty, particularly that of women... and men. To appreciate beauty
is to appreciate her grace."  
  
"Ah. So it's a matter of philosophy?" he grinned.  
  
"I am an acolyte by choice, not by birth or obligation. I would not be here if
I did not find all of the goddess's teachings in line with my own thoughts."  
  
"I would love to hear more about it, and about you. Will I have a chance to
get to know you better?" he asked.  
  
"I have duties and responsibilities," said Cinna, "but they do not bind me to
the temple at all times. Should you wish to meet with me later, I will make
the time. But for now, the high priestess awaits. Please follow me."  
  
Cinna led him from the bath and through the halls of the temple. Again, he was
taken by the building's simple, elegant beauty. Its marble walls and high
ceilings were lit by simple but elegant candles and lanterns, and while he
found paintings, statues and other forms of art, with a range of subjects from
lovers to nature, the collection fell far short of being gaudy.  
  
The pair encountered no one as they walked. Cinna had spoken of other
acolytes, but so far Davos had yet to meet any.  
  
She brought him to the tall double doors near the main entrance, where he knew
the acolytes conducted holy day worship and formal ceremonies. Temples to
Aphrodite rarely took in crowds. Individual laypersons might come and go as
their needs and their faith dictated—as one of the faithful, Davos had been
inside a couple of other temples—but generally that was restricted to the main
chamber. Davos knew that few people saw as much of a temple as he saw now.  
  
Cinna led him through the main chamber, up toward the altar and past the
statue of Aphrodite that rose above it. She walked to thick silk drapes
hanging behind the statue, pulled them aside and knocked on the door beyond
it. Davos wondered how many other than the acolytes ever walked where he stood
now.  
  
He heard a voice say, "Enter," from behind the door. Cinna pushed the door
open and stepped back out of his way. Davos's breath caught. He was quite
certain that very few people indeed went where he'd just been invited. A
chamber behind the altar and the statue of the goddess had to be a sacred
place where only the true servants of the goddess were allowed. Only acolytes
and priestesses... and now, apparently, Davos.  
  
"Your reverence is appropriate," said Cinna in a hushed tone, "but you are
welcome. Leave your worries behind. The high priestess knows what she does."  
  
With that, she fell silent. Davos swallowed hard and walked inside. Cinna shut
the door behind him.  
  
The surroundings were simple enough: more marble walls, more candles in
sconces, but the ceiling was a bit lower. The air felt fresh in here despite
the absence of any visible window. He found a smaller altar, a wide and
shallow golden bowl filled with water upon it and a shelf filled with various
bottles, scrolls and jewels. A man could live like a king on the treasures in
this room.  
  
He saw the statue of Aphrodite against one wall, even more elegant and
beautiful than the one in the main chamber... and the plush bed that lay
underneath the marble goddess.  
  
He also saw the high priestess, clad in a thin, sleeveless dress of white silk
that clung to her wonderful figure. The center of it plunged down low to
reveal more alluring cleavage than any woman would dare show in most of the
ports he'd visited. The simple silk cord around her waist ensured that an
observer would see the shape of her hips. Slits up the sides revealed the
priestess's long, smooth legs. Her golden necklace, earrings and bracelets
were small, simple and entirely perfect.  
  
The woman's beauty took his breath away. He could stare at that face and that
long, flowing red hair all day long. "Welcome, Davos of Murried," she said. "I
am Ariella, high priestess to Aphrodite in Loewen."  
  
Davos nodded, and then paused. "Forgive me," he said, "I don't... I don't know
the etiquette for such a sacred place, or this..." He held out his hands in
apology. "I don't know whether to bow or kneel or what to call you. I mean no
disrespect. The acolyte who accepted my dedications to the goddess in Murried
was not one for giving such lessons."  
  
The beauty before him just smiled. "There is nothing to forgive. As Cinna
said, your respect and humility is clear in your heart. I believe you can
imagine how rare it is for an outsider to be allowed into this space."  
  
From her posture and poise, Davos knew that this woman could treat with the
kings and queens of humanity and the elves as an equal. She was perfectly used
to her position of authority and leadership. Yet he heard friendly notes in
her voice as she spoke to him. She wanted to put him at ease and address him
as an equal. Her next words made that plain: "The proper form would be to take
to your knees, bow your head on the floor and stretch out your hands. You
would address me as Revered One. But you, Davos, must call me Ariella, and you
must not kneel or bow. The goddess bids you be at ease. You are as welcome
here as a lover."  
  
He blinked. If anything, her words filled him with more awe than he would have
felt had he bowed and scraped from the beginning. "Surely I am not that
worthy."  
  
Ariella's smile twisted a bit, and she tilted her head in concession of his
point. "Well, again, this is the inner sanctuary of a goddess," she said, "and
you are but mortal. Yet the goddess knows your heart. You would not be given
such a welcome were your reverence or humility in doubt." A glimmer of humor
shone in her eye. "I see that you are properly overwhelmed, as it should be.
My words are deliberately chosen. We have matters to discuss, and I believe
when we are finished, you will have a proper perspective. You are as welcome
as a lover, Davos, here in this sacred space and in this temple, now and in
the future."  
  
"I am indeed overwhelmed," he said.  
  
"Would you believe me if I told you that I feel somewhat the same?"  
  
He bit back his first incredulous response. Davos's awe remained, but he
quickly got control of it. "I would say no, but I wouldn't call the high
priestess a liar."  
  
Ariella laughed. "By now you've been told over and over again of how great a
deed you accomplished in the battle," she said. "I don't need repeat it. But
on a personal level, you saved me from both death and humiliation. You saved
my temple and my acolytes, which comprise all of my worldly loves. And you did
so through a deliberate choice to put this temple and my goddess before all
other concerns. You expected to die that night, and you chose to die for her.  
  
"The goddess watched you, Davos. She knew your heart when you joined the
battle, and she knew what you would sacrifice. You became special to her. That
is why we must speak. I would have you know the blessings that Aphrodite has
bestowed upon you... and, for myself, I would have you know my gratitude."  
  
He blushed and bowed his head, unsure of what to say. When his eyes rose to
hers, he said, "You saved my life that night, too."  
  
"Another man might overlook that," she replied. "That you acknowledge my
actions speaks well of you. But I think we can agree where the greater weight
of debt lies between us, even if only in principle." Ariella gestured to the
bed. "Tradition and the will of the goddess dictates what is kept in her
sanctuary. Chairs are not on that list, but as we are both fully welcome here
we may make ourselves comfortable. Will you sit with me?"  

"Of course," Davos nodded, and laughed a little as he sat facing her on the
edge of the bed. "I'm not sure how a man turns down any request or invitation
you make."  
  
"You might be surprised, then," Ariella replied dryly. "Many see little value
in what we hold dearest here. The goddess of love does not often win wars or
make the rain fall or the crops grow. She does not keep the seas safe, or
guide the craftsman's hand, or bring out the sun and moon. It is not
Aphrodite's name that is called out during childbirth, by mothers or by those
who watch over them. The only souls she guides into the afterlife are those
that dedicate themselves to her. Some resent my influence in the city, and see
me as little more than a pretty face accorded far too high a place on account
of looks alone."  
  
"I can already tell that you are much more than that."  
  
She nodded. "I am irritated by such reactions, but no person is loved by all.
Attitudes such as those arise from a number of sources. I do not let it stand
in my way, nor do such concerns cost me sleep at night." Ariella let the
thought pass without trouble. "I see that you hold much different attitudes."  
  
"Anyone can see the importance of all those other concerns you mentioned,"
Davos conceded, "but in the end, love is still at least as important as the
rest."  
  
"Yet you have no lover in your life," said Ariella. She didn't explain how she
knew that, nor did Davos stop to wonder. "I would know more of you, Davos. Why
a life at sea? What was life in Murried that you chose to sail away? Or was it
your choice at all?"  
  
"My parents wanted me to marry a girl to bring her farm into our family and
raise our fortunes. She was a lovely girl, and my parents quite insistent,
but... I wasn't in love with her," he explained. "Nor did she love me. We got
along, but we could not call it love. I would not allow us to be trapped
together to make our parents happy, so my parents cast me out. Hers were much
more forgiving," he added, "or that story might have turned out differently.  
  
"I just wanted something more. There was a whole world out there to be seen,
and I wanted to see it. Others value peace and quiet and stability, and I
don't blame them, but... I felt like I would suffocate there. I didn't want
the same life that was handed down to my family and our friends' families. I
scouted out ships in the port, found one that did not strike me as unsafe or
untrustworthy, and I signed on."  
  
"So you left your family behind?"  
  
"I've been home a couple of times and we've made our peace, but I've always
left. It's not the sea that I love so much as the freedom of travel."  
  
"Yet you are lonely," observed the priestess.  
  
"Yes and no," he nodded. "I've always been the independent sort. My mother
used to say that my siblings never wanted to go to market or out into the
woods alone, but I hardly ever even stopped to say when I was leaving.  
  
"There are times when I'm lonely, yes. I enjoy companionship, but not many of
my shipmates have made for good company. I like people. I like to have
friends. But most people get tied down, and it becomes a choice of either
being tied down with them or moving on... and that's a hard choice.  
  
"I've seen islands and coastlines that I would call paradise, but their beauty
is somewhat wasted when you've no one to share it with."  
  
Ariella smiled. "It doesn't sound as if you took to the sea in search of
fortune."  
  
"Oh, I like money as well as the next man," Davos laughed, "but if I struck it
rich, I don't think I'd put my money into a home."  
  
"A ship of your own, perhaps?"  
  
He shook his head. "Too much responsibility. The captain can't just walk away
from his ship. It's every bit as much work as tending a farm, if not more. You
might see far more of the world, but in the end the ship is still your home."  
  
"I imagine being tied down to a lover is just as unpalatable, then?"  
  
"No, not at all," Davos answered. "Not if she were to travel with me. As I
said, I enjoy people. I enjoy meeting new faces and making new friends... but
I don't especially like leaving others behind. It's simply the cost of
travel."  
  
The thoughts that occurred to him required a little consideration of the
proper words. He'd always been a relatively witty sort, but apparently his
short time here in Loewen had encouraged him to work toward eloquence. "On the
night of the battle, I chose to come here to defend the ideals of love... but
in truth, I wish it wasn't such an abstract matter in my life."  
  
"You made love last night, Davos. No, no one told me; Aphrodite graces her
servants with a certain degree of insight," she explained gently. "You had a
wonderful night with a woman you did not know beforehand, and while it was
fleeting, you felt loved, and for the night you loved your partner in return.
I imagine it was beautiful and fulfilling."  
  
Davos pursed his lips. "She asked for discretion. This is twice now that we've
been discovered."  
  
"I can see what you have experienced," said Ariella, "but not the details. I
don't know who your lover was. Regardless, the secret is safe with me."  
  
"Thank you," he said, taking her at her word. "I could stand to have more such
nights."  
  
"Many more?"  
  
Once again, he blushed. "As many as the goddess might grace me with," he
admitted.  
  
"That is the most important reason I summoned you here, Davos. You will indeed
have many more such nights. More than any other man or woman would believe, if
you tried to tell them."  
  
Davos blinked. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Aphrodite has blessed you with her grace," Ariella explained. "I see it in
you as plainly as you see me. She wishes to reward you for your service, for
your courage and willingness to sacrifice, and for everything of hers that you
saved. She is a goddess of beauty, of passion and love--_erotic_ love in
particular, though tact and pragmatism keep me from loudly proclaiming that
central aspect," she smiled. "Yet you should know. You _must_ know, lest you
misinterpret the rewards and the joys to come.  
  
"Davos, let me ask you: have you found yourself feeling braver with women in
the past day or so? Have charming words come to you more easily? Do you find
that women's eyes linger on you longer than they did before you came here?"  
  
His eyes widened as she spoke. It was all the answer she needed.  
  
"And last night, did you find yourself able to give and enjoy more pleasure
than you ever had? Did you feel more potent and virile? Did your partner rise
to the occasion of lengthy, passionate lovemaking without fatigue?"  
  
"Yes," he answered quietly.  
  
"And did you both find it easy to part on good terms, with neither longing nor
a sense of loss?" Ariella mirrored his nod. "You carry the blessings of the
goddess of love, Davos. Aphrodite has rewarded you as only she can. Intimate
companionship will be far easier for you to find from now on. She will help
you find it when you seek it out, and even when you do not, she may often
still guide you to erotic pleasures you do not expect. And though you should
not take it for granted or enjoy yourself recklessly, you will find fewer
negative details or unwanted attachments."  
  
The thoughts processed in his mind. "Does she--does Aphrodite want anything of
me in return?"  
  
"Yes," Ariella nodded again, smiling. "You may occasionally be guided toward
matters of Aphrodite's interests. That will likely not bother you, for you
already followed her as your patron. For the most part, she wishes you to
embrace her rewards and enjoy them, but on occasion you may find yourself...
directed toward certain affairs. All you need do is be true to yourself;
again, the goddess knows you to be a faithful devotee, or she would not invest
you with such a reward.  
  
"There is nothing sinister or manipulative at work. She knows your heart and
your needs. The goddess cannot love you herself, lest her full glory end your
life. But she can love you through intermediaries. Rites and rituals within
the temple serve much the same purpose. Every indulgence can be an act of
worship on your part, Davos, if you keep the goddess in your heart.  
  
"Had you a lady love to whom you were committed, I imagine Aphrodite's rewards
would be much different, though equally wonderful. But as you say, you wish to
enjoy the beauty of the world. You value love, but also your freedom.
Aphrodite has honored that, and struck a balance."  
  
Davos's heart pounded. He felt himself growing aroused as she spoke, though
the gravity of her statements were as much to blame as the beauty before him.
Davos knew in his heart that her every word was completely true. Even if he
had trouble digesting it all, the ramifications sank in and excited his body.  
  
"One often hears sagas of heroes who roam the world and love freely, only to
leave their paramours behind in search of new adventures," explained Ariella.
"Yet one is often left wondering if that hero leaves behind a broken heart, or
an unwanted child or sickness or shame. You need concern yourself with none of
that, Davos. The goddess wishes you to know her love, on your terms, and not
to trouble yourself with a sad aftermath because such things simply will not
happen. You will not leave behind children or broken hearts or shattered
dreams. Your liasons will not easily or likely be discovered. Your trysts are
between you and your partners, and your life and loves a matter for you and
for the goddess herself. Enjoy your fortunes, and remember and honor the one
who grants them."  
  
The thought took his breath away. He'd never even considered living such a
life--even if he could muster up the charm, he worried about exactly the sort
of aftermath that Ariella now said would never be a problem. "What if... what
if I someday find someone that I want to settle with?" he asked. "What if I
find one special woman?"  
  
"Then stay with her," Ariella shrugged. "Aphrodite does not disapprove. But I
think you will find, even then, that matters of jealousy and possessive
feelings will be quite muted. A blessing such as this is meant to be more than
what most men and women find in their lives. Love freely. Embrace your lusts.
Take love and lust as an adventure.  
  
"Remember, the goddess appreciates a pure heart, but she is not borne of the
strict standards and traditions of any age. Her restrictions are few. She
despises rape and views incest as a crime. Yet she has aided many an affair
outside the bounds of parental approval, or marriage, or the enmities of kings
and queens. Not all of her affairs have been altruistic, either; Aphrodite
understands a little selfish lust. There are tales of her having a husband
before she came to this world, yet she had so many lovers that it was
impossible to keep her infidelity secret. And yet we cherish her still.  
  
"It is not Aphrodite who will dictate your standards, or your sense of right
and wrong. She wants you to be loved, and to enjoy her rewards. To be blunt,
Davos, you could be quite ruthless and selfish with the charms you wield and
never once draw the ire of the goddess." Once more, Ariella tilted her head,
watching him curiously. "But I don't think that will happen. You are too kind
for that."  
  
Davos shook his head. "This is much to think on," he said, "but to take what
you say at face value--and I don't doubt you, but it is much to accept--even
if all this comes to pass, I don't see how I could abuse it that way."  
  
"The goddess would not see it as abuse," Ariella shrugged. "She can be a bit
naughty, as it were. But if you are true to yourself as well as to her, I
doubt you will have many regrets. It is one of the reasons I wished to speak
with you," she added softly. "Cinna read kindness and humility in you, and I
see it, too. Another man might grow arrogant knowing he had such gifts. I
don't think that will be the case for you... and so I thought it best to tell
you, explicitly, lest you mistake the blessings of Aphrodite for blind luck or
something sinister."  
  
"Thank you," he said. "Last night seemed like such a stroke of luck, but if it
happened with frequency, I would have wondered, yes. Do you know how this
works?" he asked curiously. "Will I know... will I know when it happens? I'm
not even sure what questions to ask."  
  
"Ask anything at all," the priestess assured him. "You would not find anyone
else with these answers. I am her trusted servant, and I am the one with whom
she shared her intent. And I am somewhat similarly blessed," Ariella conceded,
"though my blessings do not play out as yours shall.  
  
"As to your first questions, you will likely not feel anything different at
all other than a greater urge to indulge. There is no glow of magic or
recognizable portent. Your charms are already developing, and your visage is
deeply appealing; you may see no difference in the mirror, but I can promise
you that I see an exceptionally attractive man before me."  
  
He did not blush this time, but it was a near thing. "I don't know if I've
ever seen anyone as beautiful as you," Davos replied.  
  
"Even the most beautiful people often doubt their appearance, or think
themselves ugly or that those who compliment them are misguided. There is
power in knowing that one is, in fact, greatly attractive." Her grin turned
soft, and her voice dropped a little further. "Not every woman will find you
so... but most will. I think you'll know it when it happens."  
  
Davos's eyebrow rose. A grin played at his lips. "Like now?" he asked, leaning
in closer.  
  
"What makes you think so?" she asked, but didn't move away.  
  
"Your tone," he said. "Your smile. The way you lean forward and touch your
neck. It's no sure thing, but I've felt a tension build through our
conversation."  
  
"A moment ago you were overwhelmed," she reminded him coyly.  
  
"I'm still overwhelmed," he nodded, but he gave no outward sign of it.  
  
"You're aroused," she corrected with a cool, playful rise of her eyebrow. She
didn't need to look to his groin to know.  
  
"After everything you've just told me, it would be hard not to become aroused,
don't you think?" He shifted closer to her, and she did not move away. "If I'm
wrong, I'll apologize, but I believe I am on the right track."  
  
"Others have thought so, and been wrong."  
  
"I imagine you have a long trail of disappointed suitors."  
  
"Dozens more with every passing year," she admitted. "Brave and fine men, many
of them. Confident, and not without reason. But not what I want."  
  
"Then I'll try not to join them."  
  
"Would you have been this bold four days ago?" Ariella asked. Her eyes
followed his fingers as they reached out to touch her flowing red hair.  
  
"Not with a high priestess of any god or goddess, no," Davos admitted evenly.  
  
"Then why now? Because I've told you that you are attractive? There is a
difference between appreciating the grace of the goddess and being susceptible
to it."  
  
Davos nodded. "I think both are at play here."  
  
"Ask yourself why you know that," she said as he drew closer.  
  
His advance halted teasingly. He could feel her breath on his cheek. The
heaviness of that breath supported his instincts, but her choice of words
confirmed them. She did not ask him why he felt certain, but why he _knew_.
"I'm not sure I have an answer for you," he whispered. "I just know."  
  
"Then you know how it feels when the grace of the goddess takes hold," she
smiled, close enough that he felt her cheek against his as her lips moved.
"You do not have to fumble through impressions and mixed messages as ordinary
people do. Not anymore. Now you know."  
  
Davos smiled, too, but only until he turned his head to meet hers in a soft,
longing kiss. He would willingly have drowned in those lips. The feeling of
her body against his as she slipped into his arms was as nothing he'd ever
known; even after the passion he'd experienced last night, Ariella amazed him.
He knew instantly what she meant by sharing the grace of Aphrodite, as the
mere caress of her fingers along his arms and his shoulders pleased him as
much as the directly carnal touches of other women. The taste of her kiss
thrilled him.  
  
He knew, as surely as he knew that she wanted this, that she was equally
aroused.  
  
"You are a good man, Davos of Murried," she told him softly. "I know that much
of you for certain. As I said before, you saved my life and all that I hold
dearest in this world. You are kind, humble and exquisitely attractive. And
above all, you and I come together here in this holy space as two favored and
loved by my goddess." Her eyes glimmered as she looked up into his for only a
moment. "I could have any man or woman in the kingdom, most with little
effort... yet I desire you as much as I have ever wanted anyone or anything. I
want every intimacy with you."  
  
The confession hung in the air until the space between them closed in another
kiss. Davos ran his hands over her shoulders, knowing his touch affected her
the same way hers excited him. "Is it hubris to lie in this bed?" he breathed
against her ear as his hand drifted down to her breast.  
  
"No," she whispered back, and then gasped as he gently cupped and kneaded her
flesh. "Remember... we are as welcome here as... as lovers." The sensual
pleasures of his touch on her breast and the stroke of his fingers on the back
of her neck had her head swimming. "It is a sacred privilege... and should be
honored... and accepted."  
  
Her hands untied the knotted leather at the rings of his belt and let it fall
to the floor. Ariella's body writhed at his touch, flowing this way and that
in his embrace to offer as much of herself as she could. She panted when his
lips came to her neck and kissed her flesh hungrily.  
  
Davos's confidence grew as quickly as his desire. He had indeed changed. As
she suggested, he would not have approached her so surely a week ago. He might
have made his best and bravest effort had he thought her interested, but a
week ago he almost certainly would never have gotten close enough to try. Nor
did he blame her for that; she had responsibilities and concerns he did not
yet know. But now the high priestess of Aphrodite melted in his arms and
wordlessly begged him for more... and he knew, without even considering it,
that he could deliver all she wanted.  
  
It was all he wanted to do, too.  
  
They kissed and clung to one another, heightening need and appreciation
propelling their movements. Ariella did not wait for Davos to take the next
step. She pulled the shirt from his shoulders with a sudden fierceness and all
but shoved him onto his back on the bed before straddling his hips.  
  
Her hands ran over his chest and his tight stomach. "A sailor's muscles," she
noted with open lust. "Your body is lean and strong. Tanned by the sun. But
your hands are much softer now than they should be, aren't they?" Her hips
gyrated to grind her crotch against his, leaving her gasping with pleasure.
"Ah," she whimpered softly. "This is... ah... ah."  
  
Davos's hands slid up her arms and over her shoulders. He took the fabric of
her dress in his fingers and slipped it down, watching in wonder as her lovely
breasts were revealed to him for the first time. The trembling breath of his
partner gave her every approval. She enjoyed the rapture on his face almost as
much as the feeling of his body underneath hers. Ariella gracefully rose on
her knees, allowing him to pull her dress the rest of the way down.  
  
"We have been dressed for far too long," she told him solemnly. With the
fabric down past her thighs, she lifted and swung one beautiful leg away, then
brought it back to his side and did the same with the other. She sighed
happily at the sensation of her partner's hands on her naked hips and ass, and
then slid down against him to grip the hem of his pants in her hands and pull
it down with deliberate slowness. Her eyes lit up at the sights it revealed;
again, she did nothing to disguise her lust.  
  
He understood why. Lust was sacred here.  
  
Ariella kissed and caressed her way back up his naked legs, but as her fingers
moved in on his groin, Davos gently took her wrists. "Come up here," he said.
"I want to taste you."  

His lover smiled. Ariella lay against him, enjoying the feeling of his body
for a long bout of kissing and body-mapping. Eventually he tugged at her hips,
telling her silently to slide up closer. She knew the intimacy he offered and
could not bring herself to deny it, no matter how much she wanted other
things.  
  
Ariella knelt over his head, bringing one knee just under his armpit and
mirroring it with another. She allowed his hands to roam over her body with a
reverence akin to worship. Then his kiss spread up her thigh toward her center
to bring her even more utterly divine pleasure.  
  
"Uunnh!" she called out. Davos knew to take this slow, but he loved every
single bit of her. The taste and smell of her pussy intoxicated him. The
feeling of her soft hair against his nose and lips offered a pleasant contrast
to the silky wetness of her labia and her inner walls.  
  
"You feel wonderful," Ariella breathed, her eyes fluttering. It was all she
could do to stay upright for him, yet she would not break off from this for
the world. He knew when to increase contact and pressure and understood the
importance of attending to the outer flesh over the temptation of penetrating
her--though he indulged in that, too, causing little flashes of rapture to
explode in the darkness of her closed eyes. "You have... ohh..."  
  
He didn't let up for the sake of conversation.  
  
The beauty that loomed above him completely at the mercy of the pleasures he
bestowed was a joy unlike any he'd ever known. All of Davos's other concerns
fell away into irrelevance. All that mattered was Ariella and every pleasure
he could give her, because the reactions were a greater reward than any
treasure he'd ever seen.  
  
The trembling of her body increased. Her whimpers stretched out into long,
helpless cries of ecstasy. Davos felt her thighs squeeze together, putting a
delicious and intimate pressure on both sides of his head and threatening to
break his contact with her sex, but he pushed on. Ariella took hold of his
scalp with one hand and pulled him in even deeper as she neared orgasm.  
  
When the dam broke, it nearly reduced her to tears. She sobbed with bliss,
releasing a flood of honeyed fluid into Davos's mouth that went on far longer
than any climax he'd given Juliana the night before. Lost to the joy of it,
Davos gave the matter little thought, but the difference still registered in
his mind. He understood it as yet another aspect of the blessings of
Aphrodite. Ariella's body had been gifted with a capacity for pleasure to
match her beauty.  
  
Davos felt tears fall against his forehead as he licked and caressed her out
of the throes of orgasm. Then he heard affectionate laughter in her breath.
"Oh, that was wonderful," she said. "You are generous--and skilled."  
  
"Would you believe that's only my second time?"  
  
"Only because I know what I do about you," she smiled. "Thank you."  
  
"I wanted to be sure you were ready for the next thing," he grinned.  
  
Ariella raised an eyebrow. She brought her legs back, keeping her thighs
spread as she slid against his body. "I was ready to receive you with our
first kiss," she said into his mouth. The wet slide of her sex down his
abdomen to tease against his erect cock demonstrated what she meant.  
  
They teased one another briefly, with their eyes meeting and their lips
exchanging kisses and smiles as the inevitable approached. Finally, Davos
could take no more teasing. He had to have her. His hands slid to her hips
again, and she gave no objection as he brought the lips of her pussy to the
head of his cock.  
  
"Take me," she gasped, and then cried out as he pushed into her, "use me! Oh!
Yes. Use me. Take me." Her breath grew hot against his mouth before she kissed
him again, her tongue invading his mouth just as his cock invaded her body.
"Love me," she whimpered.  
  
"I do," he confessed.  
  
She gasped, both in pleasure and recognition. Something in her eyes crumbled,
but it spoke only of good things. Davos felt a bond building between them
both. His words had not gone too far. In that moment, in this bed at least, he
truly loved her.  
  
The feeling might fade. It would leave neither of them hurt. For now, it was
what they both needed.  
  
They moved together, lovingly fucking one another and feeling every single
inch of contact. Their bodies kept a controlled pace, but their emotions ran
wild.  
  
"Hold nothing back," she whispered, and then her body shook with a small,
delicious orgasm that promised much bigger reactions as their lovemaking
continued. "Use me. Enjoy me."  
  
"I want to please you," he told her. "Nothing would please me more than that."  
  
She smiled into another kiss. "Then use me, Davos," she told him. "Let
yourself go and we will both know ecstasy."  
  
He started out slow, staring up into her eyes as he slid in and out of her in
long strokes that seemed to emphasize his endowments and her sensitivity.
"Uunhh. Yes. Your pleasures are mine," she whimpered, and was then reduced to
further long grunts and moans as she experienced the fullness of him within
her.  
  
Ariella's body offered nothing but luxury and intimacy. The breasts crushed
against his chest and the legs that slid along his granted pleasures to his
whole body to match the wonders of their union.  
  
Davos indulged in this slow and savoring fucking for a long time before his
needs built, and by then the blissful haze he shared with his partner had
eliminated any sense of time. He held her hips down against his, remaining
tightly sheathed inside her before he rolled her over onto her back. His lover
read his intent without conscious thought and held on, making for a pleasant
shift that only increased his penetration as she came to rest.  
  
He felt as if his cock had dominated her whole body. Ariella embraced him and
let him have complete control, loving every second of it. Wet ripples enticed
his shaft as it pistoned in and out, revealing yet another little orgasm
enjoyed by his partner. Ariella just laid her head back in surrender, giving
up any attempt at kissing him or looking into his eyes. Davos knew she had
strength and control--he didn't give that or anything else much thought, but
in the small part of his mind that was not engulfed by the haze of lust, he
understood that this was complete and willing consent.  
  
Ariella let go and melted for him. "Oooh! Take me. Yes!" Her earlier climax
was nothing compared to the spasming abandonment that wracked her body. The
sense of both intimacy and triumph along with such carnal pleasures were too
much for Davos's body. He felt his own release build, first with a heavy
pressure that he could not describe pushing his thrusts on with greater
urgency and then finally exploding through him in long, thick bursts of
satisfaction. He released his seed into her again and again, with a duration
in keeping with every other larger-than-life aspect of their lovemaking.  
  
Ariella felt it. She whimpered with each spurt of his cock. Her noises all
conveyed happiness and appreciation. He knew from discussions that not all
women could feel such particular things, but through either his potency or her
sensitivity--or perhaps both--Ariella rode out even this detail... and loved
it.  
  
"Stay," she gasped when she could talk, and then with another breath she
clarified: "Remain within me. Please."  
  
"I want nothing more," he chuckled and kissed her neck.  
  
A seductive smile spread across her face. "We are not done. We will not be
done for a very long time."  
  
"And then?" he asked.  
  
"And then time will move on," she assured him sweetly. "I imagine we will come
together again before long. That seems likely to me. I cannot imagine holding
myself in check with you."  
  
"Then this is not a one-time event?" Davos asked with a raised brow.  
  
"Not if I have anything to say about it," Ariella assured him. "But this does
not alter anything I told you earlier. The gifts Aphrodite have bestowed upon
you are meant to be enjoyed to its fullest, not restricted to one narrow
condition. Not for you."  
  
"That doesn't bother you?"  
  
"No," she smiled. "I don't presume that sex creates ownership of another
person. Nor does love," she added, stroking his cheek, "though my affection
for you already runs deep." He felt her squeeze him inside of her, emphasizing
the intimacy they shared. "I wish only that you show me the same respect, and
grant me the same freedoms."  
  
"You're not worried about how all this will change me? I could become a
selfish ass. Hell, I could be one already."  
  
"No," Ariella shook her head. "I know enough already that I would not expect
such a change. The goddess does not expect or demand complete altruism of her
chosen. You are allowed a degree of selfishness. Indeed, she expects that to
guide you to some extent. But if you were the sort to abuse these gifts--if
you were selfish and cold, or cared nothing for the feelings of others--she
simply would not have given you such rewards. Reflect on your actions and your
motives. It will keep you pure of heart. But do not talk yourself into
celibacy or withdrawal."  
  
"You said you have similar gifts?" he asked. "I already know some of them,
but... do you have the same... I'm not even sure how to ask this?"  
  
Ariella nodded. "I do, though my urges to enjoy the gift are less than yours.
Love and lust are but two aspects of life. You enjoy exploration and the open
road. I am inclined to staying in one place and service to my goddess. I would
welcome you back here anytime, or for as lengthy a stay as you wish, for
obvious reasons... but I understand your other desires. I do not take them as
an insult or a sign of some shortcoming on my part.  
  
"The blessings of the goddess must be kept secret. You will find the
jealousies of women quite muted, as I said, but not those of men. Don't be
afraid to take risks, but don't get careless or arrogant. Aphrodite's gifts
will conceal only so much. But do not feel any shame or doubt with me. Wear
your desires openly. I understand, and I welcome them."  
  
Davos grinned. "All of them?"  
  
"As long as I am among them," she taunted him. "But yes. I want this for you,
Davos. As a woman and a counselor, I would implore you to be gentle with the
hearts of others. I hope you maintain that decency and outlook of equality
that I have sensed in you all along. I hope you remain discreet and sensitive.
I would hate to see this delicious confidence become arrogance.  
  
"But as the priestess of Aphrodite, knowing your gifts as I do and the will of
our goddess... I hope you seduce and fuck every pretty thing that strikes your
fancy," she smiled wickedly, "and I hope you never feel a shred of guilt about
it. Aphrodite has blessed you, Davos. Embrace this.  
  
"And on that note," she said, "I have a request."  
  
"Anything."  
  
"As I said, you are as welcome here and in the temple as a lover. I am not the
only one who will know this. I ask, though, that _when_ you seduce my
acolytes... please do not disrupt their regular duties."




        Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 03


One could not technically call it meditation, given her attentiveness to the
muffled noises floating out of the innermost shrine. Cinna sat cross-legged
outside the curtains and the door to the sacred space, assuming the posture
and serenity of a meditative effort. She remained in place for hours. At a
glance, no one would have suspected otherwise, and in fact she felt calm and
peaceful. She also felt pleased, and more than a little aroused.  
  
The moans and whimpers of the high priestess were music to her ears. Ariella
had a way of reducing all of her partners to helpless wrecks. Cinna
thought—lovingly—that it was about time her mentor had a taste of her own
medicine.  
  
The acolyte hoped she might experience such a treatment, too.  
  
Footsteps approaching from the other side of the main chamber pulled her from
her reverie. Cinna's head lifted, just barely, to greet Zenobia as the other
acolyte's sandaled feet brought her to a halt before her. The younger acolyte
had not run, but a sense of urgency was plain in the pretty brunette's
expression. "Prince Alaric is at the entrance," she announced softly.  
  
"He is not to enter," said Cinna.  
  
"He understands," nodded Zenobia. "The prince did not come alone. There are a
pair of Companions with him, and one and two of the royal servants."  
  
"Then we can expect some semblance of diplomacy from him this time," Cinna
frowned as she rose. "Your hood, Zenobia," she reminded gently.  
  
Zenobia blinked and then blushed, tugging the hood of her robes further down
her forehead to cover the eyes. Strictly speaking, the hoods were not entirely
necessary or required, but they offered a measure of distance between the
acolytes and the laypeople of the city. An acolyte could pursue lovers all she
wanted in her free time, but Zenobia's duties of the day made her a face of
the temple and the goddess, and not her own personal interests.  
  
The matter did not lead to further reproach. Among the comforts and rewards of
service to the goddess was an almost palpable affection shared by those who
lived and served in the temples. Romance, intimacy and passion rose and fell
like the tides within Aphrodite's temples. Even at their lowest ebb that
context of frequent intimacy colored all matters between them. The only limit
seemed to be that of the individual priest or acolyte's natural attractions...
though when it came to her acolytes and priesthood, the goddess seemed to
generally select those attracted to both sexes.  
  
The younger acolyte walked beside Cinna, though deliberately falling a step
behind. "No one has ever told me of the prince's offenses," she said quietly.
"I know that he is unwanted here, and that he has laid insult, but not the
details."  
  
"Alaric suffers from common delusions and failings of ego," Cinna explained in
flat, matter-of-fact tones. She walked with purpose, but did not hurry. "That
we have not told you of his 'highness' should tell you how much thought and
attention he deserves. Suffice it to say that he takes us all for whores—and
he thinks whores are beneath him. Neither of these opinions endear him to the
goddess or her servants.  
  
"He has petitioned the temple more than once, seeking to experience the sacred
rites and to learn the arts, always offering some flimsy reasoning for his
requests. Each time, we have found him without a shred of humility or honesty
or piety. He seeks only a night's pleasure, and thinks his royal blood and
wealth should earn him special consideration. Naturally, he has grown
frustrated, and has difficulty keeping his resentment in check. As with all
petitions, we keep his secret," she added meaningfully.  
  
"He also longs for Ariella," Cinna frowned, "but only in the basest manner.
She would at best be a pretty trinket on his arm. He seems to believe this
would be an honor."  
  
Zenobia blinked soberly. "Such a shame," she said. "He has a pleasant body."  
  
"You may find grander bodies of humbler origins," predicted Cinna. "None would
blame you or criticize if you wanted to give the prince a chance, but not one
of the other acolytes has seen fit despite his physical appeal."  
  
"No," Zenobia replied, "I hear your warnings. If a man does not want to give
as much as he receives, I think he is a waste of my time... sacred rites or
no."  
  
She didn't see the faint smile of approval on Cinna's lips. "I will do the
talking with the prince. Thank you for summoning me." Their steps and their
conversation carried them to the foyer of the temple, and then to the grand
doors beyond. While those doors were closed, a simpler side entrance behind
the tall marble columns of the entrance allowed for subtler exit and entry.
Cinna moved to that smaller door and stepped outside into bright sunlight.  
  
Repairs to the Plaza of the Divines would take months to complete, but many
were already underway. Across Cinna's field of vision, she could see
stonecutters taking measurements for broken blocks that had to be replaced and
other workers carving out the most damaged pieces of the walkways. Burned and
withered plants had mostly been cleared away. She saw a horse-drawn cart
loaded with new greenery waiting to be settled into its new homes.  
  
Across the Plaza, clerics of the god Frey performed their work in front of the
ruins of their burnt-out temple for a flock of farmers and other supplicants
while workers hauled away wreckage. Frey's temple received the most attention
of all the aspects of the Plaza. Cinna couldn't argue with that, even knowing
that Aphrodite's temple would not have received as much attention had their
fortunes been reversed. The world needed love, but people needed to eat. The
god of the harvest had to be honored.  
  
The Temple of Aphrodite gave generously to the cause of rebuilding Frey's
longhouse. Aphrodite's servants in the city had given generously to other
shrines as well. The shrine to Athena might well be rebuilt largely through
that support.  
  
Unfortunately, Cinna's duty here was not to survey the reconstruction, but
instead to attend to the least interesting matter present in the Plaza. She'd
have preferred to haul out broken bricks with the workers.  
  
The visitors waited on the steps of the temple: four of his Companions, two
men and two women in a mixture of chain mail and leather, along with an
attendant in fine clothes and a long coat that marked him as one of the royal
household servants, and Alaric himself.  
  
"Your highness," she said with her clear, deliberately flat voice as she
bowed, "you grace us with your visit. How may I help you?"  
  
He wore no shining armor today, but rather something like casual finery: a
silk black shirt under a fine leather vest, with dark breeches and high boots.
Naturally, it was all festooned with gold and silver studs, embroidery and
jewelry. His broad and feathered felt hat could shelter the egos of any three
ordinary men. Prince Alaric inclined his head ever so slightly in response to
her bow. "I am on the town today," he declared. "I thought to look in on
the... hero of our recent battle. I am told that Davos came to the temple this
morning with one of the acolytes. Is he still here?"  
  
"He is, your highness," Cinna confirmed.  
  
"Fetch him for me," said the prince. "I much desire to speak with him."  
  
"My lord prince, I beg your forgiveness," Cinna replied, though her flat tone
carried no semblance of begging, "but the high priestess meets now with him in
private. It is forbidden for anyone to interrupt."  
  
Alaric's brow furrowed. "Indeed," he frowned. "This Davos is one of the
faithful of Aphrodite?"  
  
"His reverence and devotion has been ascertained," Cinna nodded deeply. "Of
all the gods and goddesses, Davos of Murried holds Aphrodite most dear. He and
the high priestess had much to discuss. She guides him in worship as we
speak."  
  
"Worship," Alaric repeated, tactfully keeping the sour tone out of his voice.  
  
"Yes, your highness. I assure you, with all respect that you are due, that
Davos is deeply embedded in sacred matters."  
  
* * *  
  
_Many folk would think this perverse,_ thought Davos, _but I doubt many men
could resist._ "Tell me if this hurts," he whispered into her ear from behind
Ariella on the bed.  
  
The naked beauty on her hands and knees before him simply gasped and pushed
back at his hips and his cock with that wonderful ass. "Take me," she moaned
in sincere need. "I want this."  
  
He kept her spread with his hands, slowly pushing up into her tight flesh with
his cock as hard as ever—if not more so. The oils slathered on his shaft and
down the crack of her ass were almost as arousing as the reality of the act
they now committed. No act of lust was forbidden or foul in this space and if
done with consent... but as Ariella had said, the presumed taboo that so many
others held against this act enhanced the excitement for both of them.  
  
They'd shared over an hour of intimate touching, probing and preparation of
her body. Thorough attention to cleanliness had been assured before they even
met, but Davos and Ariella saw to every aspect of readiness just the same.
Tenderness and reassurance were just as important as naughty desire, though
now that the moment was upon them the latter dominated all their other
emotions.  
  
Davos penetrated into her warm, tight hole slowly but relentlessly. Ariella
let out a low moan and arched her back. He couldn't read anything from that
tone--it could come from discomfort, or fear, or from pleasure--but the way
her ass pushed back against his intruding cockhead made the surest statement.  
  
"Goddess, yes, _please_," Ariella groaned as Davos worked his way slowly into
her, "let me have all of this man!"  
  
He pushed in another tight, warm inch, loving the constricting feeling on his
cock and reveling in the beautiful view. This new intimacy left him feeling
intoxicated and powerful. He'd heard before that such acts caused discomfort
at first, and sometimes pain and even bleeding, but he and Ariella had been
quite careful and now shared only intense pleasure. Perhaps all that lengthy
preparation made all the difference, or maybe it was simply the blessing of
Aphrodite at work. Maybe it was both.  
  
Regardless, Davos continued his slow and relentless penetration of Ariella's
ass to their mutual delight. "Oooh, Davos," Ariella moaned loudly when her ass
was fully up against his groin and he'd invaded as deeply as he could, "it's
so good."  
  
"Yes," he growled, leaning over her possessively. He couldn't embrace her like
he wanted—couldn't seize her breasts and also support himself, not with
everything at and below his hips charged with electric ripples of pleasure—but
he could still get close to her ear and emphasize their union. "So good."  
  
"Mmhh. You like it?" she all but whined.  
  
"You're amazing," he said, pushing just a bit to experience a little motion.
The oils seemed to do the trick, enabling him to move within her without
unpleasant friction. In truth, he would not have said her ass was better than
her soothing, welcoming sex. He would not be the one to initiate this up in
the future—and had not been the first to suggest it now—but none of that meant
he wouldn't savor this moment.  
  
He didn't lie. She felt amazing, and the mere reality of this act drove them
both wild. Many cultures forbade this as an act of perversion; others spoke of
it as if it should shame both partners. Even where it was not stigmatized, it
was not spoken of. Yet here they were, engaged and wanting—"More," she said.  
  
Davos withdrew, feeling ever more potent and confident as he saw his length
pulling out of her, and then pushed back in once more. "Better?" he asked.  
  
"Oh yes," Ariella replied. "I'm getting used to this quickly. I could get very
used to this with you."  
  
Her partner smiled. He would not ask for this in the future, nor did he think
it better than other more conventional intimacies... but he would never, ever
turn it down, either.  
  
Davos reached for the small bottle of oil and dribbled a little more into the
valley of her ass just for good measure, and then increased his tempo ever so
slightly to work the oil in and to enjoy their coupling. When he leaned
forward again and reached around to her front, bringing well-oiled fingers to
the lips of her wet sex, his partner shivered and bucked against him.  
  
Ariella whimpered out something unintelligible. He knew exactly what she meant
by it, and so he kept going.  
  
* * *  
  
"Very well," decided Alaric. "A prince should respect the piety of his
people."  
  
"Yes," Cinna agreed, flatly and unbidden.  
  
The prince blinked at that. He couldn't tell if she said it to scold him or if
it had been completely genuine. Perhaps she didn't realize he had more to say
just then. Of all the acolytes in the temple—presuming he could tell them
apart, as he rarely remembered their names—this one always seemed the most
difficult to deal with. She was also, naturally, the one he had to face most
often.  
  
"I understand that Davos has been provided with lodgings at the Singing Lion.
It is a fine establishment. I visit there sometimes myself. Would you be so
kind as to relay to him that I will be there tonight, should he care to join
my Companions and I for a friendly dinner and perhaps a drink or two? I would
get to know him before he is thrust into more formal settings with the crown
and court all in attendance. It may help him feel more comfort, as well."  
  
"A generous offer," Cinna observed. "His highness is most kind. I shall relay
your offer. I do not, however, know how long his business in the temple will
keep him. If he cannot join you, shall I send word?"  
  
The thought of it caused the prince some obvious consternation, but he held
his reaction down to a brief expression of annoyance that quickly passed.
"That would be appreciated, yes," the prince said. "You may go now."  
  
"Humbly, your highness," replied Cinna with another short bow before she went
back inside the temple.  
  
The prince spun on his heel to face his entourage. His eyes first went to the
man in castle finery close beside him. "You may go relay all that to Edward or
my mother or whoever serves between you and the steward," he said irritably.
"I trust I have not done anything embarrassing in your eyes?"  
  
The servant put on a good face of deference and apology as he bowed.
"Goodness, no, your highness," he said. "The steward merely wanted me to
accompany you on this errand in case you needed—"  
  
Alaric's raised hand cut him off. "Spare me," he sighed, "it's already been
explained before. I know you are here as a minder. I'm sure I can be trusted
to my own devices when the rest of my plans are personal in nature. Or do you
need to watch me and my Companions shop and tour the city?"  
  
"I beg your forgiveness, your highness," the man bowed again, "and I will go."  
  
The Companions all stepped closer as the servant scurried off with whatever
dignity he could muster. "You came down on him a bit hard, didn't you?" asked
one of the women, though with more humor than sympathy.  
  
"Don't start, Terrwyn," Alaric snapped. "The man was sent as a babysitter from
my mother or from Edward, nothing more. As if I cannot simply invite a
commoner to eat with me without needing supervision."  
  
"Peace, Alaric," said Terrwyn, her gloved hands raised. The leather of her new
armor still made tiny crinkling noises as she moved. It was too bad her last
set couldn't be salvaged after the battle, but at least it did its job.
Terrwyn stood side by side with the prince when the goblins broke and ran—many
of them straight through the Companions' line. She had also, pointedly, waited
for the prince to declare how many of them he'd killed before claiming a lower
and therefore less accurate number. The man's ego had to be handled as
delicately as elvish crystal.  
  
"I don't mean to criticize," the warrior continued. "He's simply doing what
was asked of him."  
  
"Yes, and he's doing that now, too, thankfully. And I'll ask _you_ to drop
it."  
  
"So that's it, then?" piped up Majella. Like Terrwyn, her armor was comprised
mostly of leather, though darker and lighter for functional purposes. Where
her longtime partner relied on a skilled sword arm and ready shield to cut
through their battles, Majella leaned more heavily on speed, stealth and
guile. Her delicately pretty face tended to lure men into underestimating her
in a head-on fight, too, which suited her just fine. "Dinner and drinks at the
Lion this evening? Perhaps we should drop by and warn Thaddeus or Juliana that
we'll be there so they'll be ready for us?"  
  
"I'm always up for it," said Geoffrey, clad in chain mail and leather much
like Terrwyn's. He slapped Baldwin on the arm. "I'm up for waiting there all
night for our new hero friend to turn up."  
  
"We might not be in such a state for actually meeting him by the time he
does," snorted Baldwin.  
  
Alaric rolled his eyes. "You may do as you wish, but I'll not waste my time on
catering to the caterers," he grumbled. "I have better things to do today."
With that, the prince turned and gruffly walked away.  
  
Terrwyn snatched him by the collar and yanked him back. Though the prince gave
a grunt of surprise, no one heard it over the racket made by the cart that
overturned in front of him in an effort to come to a sudden halt. Bricks and
debris tumbled out where the prince had nearly stepped.  
  
"Gods, no!" the driver of the cart shouted too late, but then his fall from
the cart had him fully occupied. He tumbled to one side as his load scattered
everywhere, but managed to avoid injury. Though startled, the horse realized
it could only drag the cart only so far whilst on its side. The animal looked
completely unharmed.  
  
The driver looked extra fearful when he recognized the man he'd almost hit.
"Your highness! I am so sorry, are you alright?" he blurted.  
  
"You oaf!" Alaric shouted. "Watch where you're going! Or are you too stupid to
do such simple work as moving blocks from one end of the street to another?"  
  
Baldwin snickered. Geoffrey managed to keep his laughter in check. All work
around the group ceased, with some laborers looking on in shock and others
immediately going to the driver's aid. Majella was quickly at his side, too,
offering a hand to help him up.  
  
"No harm done," she said, looking the driver over with a nod and then turning
to her comrade. "You're all in one piece. So's he," she nodded brightly.
"Nothing gets hurt but a cart and a pile of broken bricks, eh?"  
  
Alaric jerked his shirt back into place. He glanced back at Terrwyn, and while
his eyes held no reproach, the man plainly wasn't happy. "Peasants," he
seethed.  
  
The driver bowed deeply. "I am so sorry, your highness," he repeated.  
  
Alaric stormed off, hardly waiting for the crowd of men and women that had
gathered to part. "Make way!" Baldwin shouted loudly, recognizing the prince's
mood. He and Geoffrey followed close behind. "Make way!"  
  
Neither of the women rushed off after them. Majella looked up at her tall
friend as Terrwyn stepped up to the driver. "You are unhurt? You're sure?" she
asked.  
  
"Yes, my lady," he nodded. "Only my pride and... well, my coinpurse now," he
added glumly. The look on his face as he stared at his cart spoke to his
plight.  
  
"How much does a cart like this cost?" asked Terrwyn. She paid no mind to the
rise of Majella's eyebrow in response to her question.  
  
"I paid twenty-five gold for it," lamented the driver.  
  
"It sounds like a fair price," said Terrwyn, pulling off the glove from her
right hand, "though I don't know the market well." She took a small emerald
ring off of her little finger. "Here. See what you can get for this."  
  
The driver accepted the ring with obvious surprise. "Thank you, my lady! Your
generosity will keep food on my children's table!" He looked down at the ring,
then glanced at the wreckage and said, "This will help limit my losses, though
the day's wages are clearly not—"  
  
"Don't push it," Majella said, rolling her eyes. She tugged Terrwyn's arm to
get the warrior moving along with her to follow the prince and the other
Companions. "One could get much more for that ring than a workman's cart," she
noted as they walked.  

"The accident wasn't his fault," Terrwyn frowned. "If anyone should have
apologized back there, it was His Foppishness. He's fortunate Alaric didn't
strike him or have him locked up. The prince must be on his best behavior
indeed."  
  
"Well, he's been shown up by a stranger," Majella shrugged. "Doubtless he
knows that acting like an immature prig won't make for a good contrast."  
  
"I knew he'd be irritable enough just having to come here. He hates the Plaza.
I've no doubt that his minder was sent along for good reason. Too bad such
help cannot be sent along when we're out questing with him." She paused, but
inevitably said what was on her mind: "We were better off on our own."  
  
"Terrwyn, we were not," Majella said, taking her friend's arm again. Standing
in the street as they were, she had to lower her voice, though she saw no one
close enough to eavesdrop. "Look, Alaric is a jerk and the others aren't much
better, but they are competent enough in a fight. We've both seen our skills
grow as a part of this group. Our skills, our names _and_ our purses."  
  
"Yes, but how long do we stay?" Terrwyn asked. "The Companions are down a
wizard now, which was always the greatest reason to join them. But until
another wizard is found, I doubt the prince will set foot beyond the royal
hunting grounds. No treasure in the world would tempt him enough. You know how
much he relied upon Vorhast for aid and advice."  
  
"You'd think Alaric would have done a better job of protecting him in the last
battle," Majella nodded glumly. She shook the thought away. "Terrwyn, we'll
know our time to walk away when we see it. For now, let's just carry on and
take what comfort we can of our fortunes. This is still a cushy spot, isn't
it? You can't tell me you don't like having a regular stipend of pay and royal
connections to go with the occasional adventure. We'll strike out on our own
soon enough.  
  
"Besides," she added, "we joined the Companions, not the Friends. We don't
have to like the bastard."  
  
Terrwyn laughed and threw an arm around Majella's shoulders. "Fair enough,"
she said, "though sooner or later we'll need to go about finding some _actual_
friends."  
  
* * *  
  
"I've not come undone like that for a man since my first," Ariella breathed.
She lay in Davos's arms, staring up at the ceiling and glad for his still-
roaming hands. The two could manage no more lovemaking without rest, but after
hours of passion and a bit of washing one another, they relaxed into a
lingering bout of affectionate touching.  
  
"When was that?" he asked.  
  
Ariella smiled and looked up at him. "Most men don't want to hear about the
others that I lie with."  
  
"I can understand that," Davos shrugged a little. "I imagine most men wish
they could stay with you forever. I don't blame them. But even after all this,
I wouldn't presume to have a claim on your heart."  
  
She shifted, turning to lay facing him with her breasts against his chest and
one of his legs between hers. She loved the feeling of him. "I don't want to
make more of this than I should, but you already have more of a claim than
anyone else. This went beyond ordinary sex, Davos. I feel I've _experienced_
you. I would gladly have you again, anytime... particularly if you respect my
boundaries and my duties."  
  
"And your privileges and blessings?" he smiled.  
  
"Yes," she smiled back. "As I said, such are meant to be enjoyed, not denied
for the sake of misguided ideals that Aphrodite herself never espoused."  
  
He shook his head. "You were saying? Your first?"  
  
"A temple priest, in the city of Hykara, where I underwent my training and my
vows. The faithful of Aphrodite are not trained in their nearest temples. It
leaves too many bonds and cultural traditions in the way of devotion to the
goddess. I came of age there, and upon adulthood I was initiated. He was
skilled and tender, and that night I fell in love with him... but only for
that night, much like tonight. And even then, he did not take me to the
extremes that you did.  
  
"In truth, I generally prefer women," she said, utterly unafraid to admit it
to him. "I'll take any of the acolytes over the men in this city most any day,
though occasionally I indulge in a man or two. They usually don't remember
that I was their partner. It's important to maintain some distance and
mystery," she smiled, "otherwise there would be suitors at the temple doors
night and day."  
  
"Will I forget this?"  
  
"No. At least, I hope not," she chuckled. "No mystic effect will cloud your
memories, but as for what you remember? That's up to you."  
  
"I imagine I'll remember all of this, then. You've been incredible. This is
all beyond my wildest dreams. I know that's a cliché, but it's true."  
  
"You'll become accustomed to this after a few years, but I can't say it ever
gets old. I've never grown tired of the beauty of my lovers or the thrills of
sex. I look forward to what your future brings, too, and I hope you will
accept me as a confidant. You cannot tell others about what Aphrodite has
given you, and that may leave you feeling somewhat disconnected. But you can
always talk to me."  
  
Davos let out a long, thoughtful breath. "That means a lot," he said, stroking
her hair and looking into her eyes. "I've never had a confidant, really. Not
since I left home. And knowing all that you've told me, it's... it's good to
know that I have someone to talk to. I imagine that'll take some getting used
to. Just like all of these blessings you've told me about."  
  
"They are difficult to imagine in the abstract," she nodded. "You'll need to
experience Aphrodite's influence at length to truly accept it. She knows this.
Your faith is not being tested. Go forth and conquer," she teased, "with my
blessing as well as Aphrodite's."  
  
"Oh, in a hurry to get rid of me now that you're done with me?" Davos laughed.  
  
"Hardly. I simply don't want you to limit yourself. Such is not Aphrodite's
will."  
  
"I have to admit, I am already intrigued by—"  
  
A knock at the door interrupted him. Ariella's eyebrows rose as she looked to
the entrance, then back at Davos. "You are as welcome here as a lover,"
Ariella told him once again. "Are you ready to embrace what that means?"  
  
He took a deep breath. He didn't know for sure what she might mean, but he
knew how he felt about her. "I'm ready to trust you," he said. "Should I get
dressed?"  
  
"No. Exactly the opposite." Ariella looked to the doorway again. "Enter," she
called, and did not get up from her nude and intimate embrace with Davos. No
sheet covered them, nor did any curtain obstruct the bed. Ariella seemed
perfectly comfortable with being on display like this.  
  
Davos decided to follow her lead—which essentially meant lying there fully on
display with her. When the acolyte walked in, she saw Davos naked on the bed
with one arm around the high priestess... and with Ariella's hand fondly but
lazily stroking his erect cock.  
  
As always, he couldn't see much of her face above the tip of her nose, but
everything about Cinna suggested she didn't bat an eye. "I apologize for the
interruption," she said without betraying emotion.  
  
"You would not have come if it were not important," Ariella replied
affectionately. Davos still couldn't believe she was steadily working his
erection like this while carrying on a conversation with someone else. His
body stayed relaxed, but this was a whole new thrill. "What concerns you?"  
  
"Prince Alaric visited in search of Davos," said Cinna. Davos caught the mild
but instant frown of distaste on his bedmate's face as the acolyte continued.
"I kept him outside on the steps, of course."  
  
"What did you tell him?"  
  
"The truth. That you were engaged in religious matters, and that you were not
to be interrupted. Nothing more. Davos, I am asked to invite you to an
informal dinner with the prince and his Companions at the Singing Lion
tonight. I am also asked to have the prince informed if you will not be in
attendance."  
  
"Wow," Davos blinked. "That's not something I expected."  
  
"It is the tactful and politically wise thing for him to do," Ariella
observed. She didn't stop with the slow pleasures of her grasp. "The prince is
an adventurer, a fighting man and one of the faces of the monarchy. Naturally,
he would make friendly overtures, if only for the sake of appearances."  
  
"I get the impression that you aren't fond of the prince," Davos observed.  
  
"The man is an arrogant pig," replied Ariella, just as Cinna said, "He is
self-centered and snobbish."  
  
The casual disdain voiced by two women at once for someone so high above
Davos's station made him laugh. Loewen hadn't struck him as an oppressive
city, but he'd been places where such words against the crown or others of
nobility could get one jailed or worse. Even here, a certain degree of respect
was shown by all... at least in public. This only added to the impact made by
the easy acceptance both women had for the open display of sexuality on the
bed. Davos truly was in a place of complete trust.  
  
"Did the prince say anything else?" Ariella asked Cinna.  
  
"Only that Davos would be invited to a formal audience with the court sometime
soon, but that is in line with what Edward said. Alaric did not say so openly,
but he seemed quite surprised to learn that Davos is one of the faithful of
the goddess."  
  
"As I would expect of him," Ariella remarked.  
  
"His Companions held their tongues during our conversation. I cannot say that
I blame them."  
  
"Who are the Companions?" asked Davos.  
  
"In this kingdom, an able-bodied prince or princess is expected to seek out
the dangers of the land and vanquish them," Ariella explained. "The practice
hearkens back to the early days of the kingdom. Alaric's sister, Josta, has
long led a portion of the army. She is currently in the east searching out
bandits or some such. Alaric seeks to imitate the princes of yore, and thus he
has established a circle of allies to aid in his adventures. These are the
Companions. Such groups have risen and faded with the maturity and aging of
the princes. This is the latest iteration. Some are fine men and women who
look to help the kingdom. Others are simply adventurers who know an
opportunity for enrichment when they see it.  
  
"The practice leads to mixed results. I tend to concern myself with motivation
as much as what they accomplish, but even I would concede that the group has
indeed protected people and vanquished some dangers. For all of our distaste
for the prince, the man is no dandy."  
  
"Sounds like I'll meet him soon enough," Davos said. "Much as I'd like to stay
here with you as long as you'll have me, this doesn't sound like something I
should avoid."  
  
"It is not," Ariella shook her head, "and you will of course be welcome back
here later. But for now, I would tell you of the prince. I would not have you
deal blindly with such as him."  
  
* * *  
  
The street outside the Singing Lion was active enough, given that sunset had
only just passed. Loewen was certainly a pleasant place in the summertime.
Wind off of the sea mitigated the heat of the sun. Somehow the port city
escaped the humidity that often went with such warmth. He'd seen many ports in
many places. Not for the first time, he thought that if he ever settled in one
place, Loewen would rank highly among his choices.  
  
Then again, he conceded, the warm and intimate welcome he'd received from more
than one of the city's women in the last day and a half might have more to do
with that judgment than the weather and the pretty trees.  
  
His pace slowed as he reached the other side of the street from the inn. When
he'd arrived the night before, he thought the place too fancy and expensive
for the likes of him. Now he felt like the building itself suited him just
fine—again, a woman may have had more to do with that than anything else—but a
whole new level of company at dinner tonight renewed that sense of alienation.  
  
Davos could fight goblins and pirates just fine. He could handle rough seas at
night that threatened to drown him along with his ship. He had faced the vast
unknown time and again, and found it as appealing as it was daunting.  
  
Social engagements with people of lofty station were not common for him.
Captains of ships did not engage him in casual conversation. Noble passengers
rarely spoke to common sailors. Now he faced dinner with a prince.  
  
Davos took one last breath to steel himself. Loewen didn't have a tradition of
executing people for insulting the crown. At worst, he'd say something stupid
and be banished from the city as a result. Or get laughed at, which would be
annoying, but he'd endured greater pains than that before.  
  
Loud and raucous conversation drifted through the windows and the door before
he stepped inside. Davos thought he heard a fiddler playing, which he thought
was a bit too bad. Performers deserved to be listened to, not talked over. As
he entered, he found every table in the lower common area of the inn filled.
The split between men and women only mildly leaned toward his gender. He saw
merchants, artisans and people he took to be gentry by their clothes and
grooming.  
  
Toward the center, naturally at the largest table, Davos found the prince and
his Companions. The tall, blond, good-looking man stood out in a crowd both
for his vigor and the finery of his clothes. His comrades, two women and four
men in all, generally dressed in light armor and had weapons at their sides.
Davos thought for a brief instant that the prince's adventuring friends might
double as bodyguards. That would fit with what Ariella had told him about
Alaric and the royal family.  
  
He was spotted almost as soon as he walked in. "Good Davos!" called out
Juliana, who had just set down a platter of food at the prince's table. "Our
guests have been hoping to meet with you."  
  
Many of the conversations stopped. Others fell into hushed tones. Davos
quickly understood why: many of the other guests were here simply in hopes of
befriending the prince, or at least in hopes of being perceived as his friends
by others.  
  
"Ah," said Alaric as he rose and gestured welcomingly. "There he is. The hero
of the hour."  
  
"Surely not, your highness," Davos demurred, trying not to look intimidated by
the man's station. Best to treat him just like any other man, he figured,
though perhaps extra-politely. "It's been three days. By now this city must
have a new hero. Certainly someone's been saved from a fatal accident with a
cart or something, right?"  
  
Eyes widened. Smiles faltered—though the grins on the two pretty women among
the Companions seemed to twitch briefly with mirth. Alaric seemed to tense up,
and then his head tilted slowly. "I'm sorry?" he managed.  
  
"Well, just saying that I shouldn't receive so much attention for so long,"
Davos shrugged. The innocent look on his face had the benefit of being
genuine, but many in attendance didn't realize that. "But I certainly don't
mean to sound ungrateful. I'm flattered to meet you, Your Highness. And your
friends," he added, looking to the others and nodding."  
  
Alaric drew in and released a long, slow breath. "I see."  
  
"Did I say something offensive? I apologize. I've been in the temple since
just after the crack of dawn. I came straight here. Is something wrong?"  
  
"No, not at all," spoke up the smaller of the two women. She leaned forward
past Alaric to offer her hand. "I'm Majella. This is Terrwyn, Geoffrey,
Baldwin, Romis and Gareth." She shook hands with Davos and glanced once to
Alaric before moving out of the way once more. Terrwyn greeted Davos
immediately, grasping his wrist rather than his hand like one of the warriors
from the northwest. Gareth did the same, and then there were other handshakes
and introductions.  
  
It had the effect of moving the conversation past whatever misstep Davos had
made. Once he'd met everyone, enough time had passed that revisiting Alaric's
apparent irritation would have seemed awkward. Davos glanced to the prince to
see his displeasure notably reduced.  
  
"Davos, please, have a seat beside me," said the prince, gesturing to one of
the spots beside the head of the table. The prince then sat at the head, and
the other Companions quickly followed suit. Davos caught on to the nuance of
the moment quickly enough: the Companions did not need to wait for the
prince's leave to speak, as Majella had just demonstrated, but they did wait
for his highness to be seated first.  
  
By then, Juliana had brought around another tray of drinks. She began passing
them out as Alaric asked, "Do you drink ale, Davos?"  
  
"Well, of course, your highness," he nodded readily, "when I can."  
  
"I'm told you're from faraway lands, so I didn't want to presume too much,"
the prince explained. He caught the slight twitch of Davos's eyebrows and
asked, "Is there something you're more accustomed to?"  
  
"Ales and beers are fine, your highness," Davos assured him, "and the drinks
at this inn are particularly good." He caught the appreciative wink from
Juliana before she moved on, and then the waiting look from Alaric. "They're
also common in Murried. It's just not readily available on many ships. We get
water after it's been boiled for safety's sake. That, and rum."  
  
Eyebrows went up. Lips spread into smiles. "I'm sure that could be arranged,"
said Baldwin with a chuckle.  
  
"Oh, I don't want you to feel like I'm challenging you," Davos chuckled,
resulting in a roar of laughter. Clearly by trying to back off from it, he'd
done just that.  
  
"We'll get to it, then," said Alaric. He picked up his mug of ale. "But first,
a toast: to the hero of the Battle of the Plaza." Sound agreement rippled
around the table.  
  
Davos nodded, blushed, and once again demurred humbly: "To those brave souls
who gave their last that night," he added.  
  
Again, there was a brief twitch and pause at his words. Several of the
Companions were struck with a thoughtful look. Alaric seemed as if he couldn't
quite come up with his next words. Finally, he kept it simple: "Indeed."  
  
They drank. Davos decided not to pound his first drink. This would clearly be
a long night, and he would need to start it out with a full stomach rather
than the empty gut he had now.  
  
He noted the sideways looks he got from the women at the other end of the
table, who leaned together and shared a brief conversation neither he nor the
other men could hear.  
  
"I like him already," murmured Terrwyn.  
  
"Why?" Majella chuckled. "Just because he walked in, slapped Alaric with a
smile and then opened his drinking by respecting our honored dead?"  
  
"And he's handsome," Terrwyn confirmed.  
  
"You're so predictable."  
  
"You're already angling for him, too."  
  
"Got another of those little gold rings you're ready to part with?" Majella
dared.  
  
"What are we," frowned her warrior friend, "women or twenty year-old boys?"  
  
"You're right," Majella shrugged. "These are matters for mature behavior."  
  
"I have one more ring," said her warrior friend. "Think you can match it?"  
  
"Easily enough. Not that I'll need to."  
  
Terrwyn laughed. "Then you're on."  
  
* * *  
  
He genuinely didn't mean to start a drinking contest with these men. In truth,
no one openly suggested it or called anyone out. Yet Davos read the currents
early on, so he steered a practical course. He played to his strengths in his
choice of drinks. He ate heartily, both at the opening of the dinner and even
after, always keeping a bit of solid food close at hand. He drank water, both
in front of his company and whenever he excused himself to relieve his
bladder.  
  
His subtle but deliberate choices made all the difference as he saw the prince
and his Companions—the men, at least—slouch and slur their words much more
than he did as the night wore on. Perhaps he was wrong, and perhaps he, too,
was a sloppy drunk without realizing it. This wouldn't be the first time. But
he felt fairly stable. It was all the assurance he could expect.  

The only one he couldn't get a good read on was the prince himself. After the
first hour or so of conversation, shared stories and laughter, Alaric said
less and less. His laughter did not come easily, and soon it hardly came at
all. Geoffrey hardly laughed, either, but that was because he had his head
down on the table and occasionally snored, much to the amusement of the other
Companions.  
  
The ladies, at least, seemed readily amused by Davos, and remained engaged in
discussion throughout the night.  
  
"No, I'm serious," Davos said, laughing despite his words. He held his hands
up to help him describe an unusual sight. "The hobgoblins on these islands
wear these huge wooden masks, all curved at the front and painted and
decorated. Big red monster eyes, white teeth, all of it exaggerated and
frightening as hell if you're drunk enough."  
  
"I'm intrigued by this," said Terrwyn. She and Majella had at least shown the
sense not to get into the undeclared rum contest with the men, opting instead
to stick with ale. "These hobgoblins don't think they're ugly enough? Do you
think that's it?"  
  
"I don't know," Davos shrugged. "We didn't stick around to ask them."  
  
"What's this, then?" grumbled Baldwin. "You ran from them?"  
  
"Well, more or less," said the sailor. "In a way. Of a fashion. Yes." He let
out a little burp, excused himself and added, "We were all besotted at the
time. No one was in any shape for a fight. And to be fair, it is their island.
If they want to live there and not bother anyone or raid any settlements,
what's the quarrel?"  
  
"The quarrel is that they're hobgoblins!" put in Gareth.  
  
"He has you there," conceded Majella.  
  
"I've never run from a hobgoblin in my life," declared Romis.  
  
"Oh, I've never run from a hobgoblin, either," Davos corrected, "but I'll run
from a dozen hobgoblins. Or scramble away quickly and fall down a lot, which
admittedly is a more honest telling of what we did."  
  
"Well..." Baldwin considered.  
  
"No," said Gareth. "They're hobgoblins. They should be wiped out." He fumed a
bit, his alcohol-soaked mind searching for words. "I cannot call you a coward
after the battle in the Plaza, but this island is a stain on your honor!"  
  
Davos blinked and looked around the table. Majella rolled her eyes. Terrwyn
frowned. Baldwin and Romis seemed to grin a bit. Alaric just watched.  
  
"You're saying we should go get them? I mean, I can draw a map."  
  
"Excellent!" Gareth nodded. "They must be ended!"  
  
Davos mirrored the big northerner's nod. He reached for a plate of food
scraps, overturned the emptied potato skins and flattened them with the palm
of his hand. He then used a knife to carve out a small curve at the end of one
potato. "Here's the coast of Loewen," Davos explained, and then he put a small
dot into the far end of the other half of the potato skin. "There's the
island." Then he slammed his elbow on the table with his hand offered up for a
warrior-like grasp. "Let's get 'em, Gareth. You and I."  
  
Gareth looked at him with wide eyes as the moment processed. The ladies
laughed first, but eventually Gareth had to admit the humor in the offer, too.  
  
"The hour grows late," said Alaric as the laughter subsided. "We should
collect our fallen brother and take our leave. I had meant to talk with you
about the royal court and put you at ease before finding yourself in audience,
Davos, but it seems the telling of stories took precedent."  
  
Even with the buzz in his brain, Davos could detect the veiled reproach. "Oh,
I'm sorry," he blinked.  
  
"No matter," the prince grunted as he rose. "Just lean more toward listening
than talking and I'm sure you'll be fine. Companions, we should go. Gareth,
Romis... pick up Geoffrey there. Innkeeper! We're leaving. The palace will
take care of the bill."  
  
Davos stayed in his seat as the others all rose to go. He thought the matter
of the bill seemed strange. If the palace stewards were anything like the
pursers on ships, it could be weeks before the innkeeper was paid. This had
been a lot of quality food and drink, to say nothing of the dutiful service by
more people than just Juliana... "It might do to at least leave some sort of
tip?" he suggested, and then looked to his own coinpurse.  
  
Terrwyn stopped. "Aye. Alaric, he's got a point."  
  
The prince stopped, stiffened and cast an annoyed glance over his shoulder.
"Then take care of it," he said and then continued on his way out.  
  
"I've at least thirty gold on me," Davos frowned thoughtfully, "but I'm not so
sure if that's enough? This rum and all the ale and the venison..."  
  
"Gods, no, that's five times what I'd leave for a tip, even for all this,"
said Majella.  
  
"Yes, but the food..." Davos mumbled. He glanced at the door. Juliana and her
husband gave the prince a gushingly polite farewell, for which Davos couldn't
blame them in the slightest. It was good for business.  
  
The pinch on Juliana's ass that Baldwin was plainly not welcomed, but she held
her tongue. Whatever her understanding with her husband, it clearly didn't
stretch to include that man. Davos frowned darkly.  
  
"Listen, don't trouble yourself," Majella told him. "This was in your honor,
you should be the last to pay."  
  
"Was it?" he asked. Then he made an apologetic face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean
to say or imply..." he shook his head. "It's not just the drink. I'm a little
weary."  
  
Terrwyn smiled. She plunked down a few gold coins on the table. "This is
merchants' business. It will be handled. Good night, Davos of Murried. I
enjoyed this, and I hope to see you again soon." She offered him a friendly
smile that seemed much more genuine than the others he'd seen tonight.  
  
"Ladies," called a familiar voice. They saw the prince at the door. Though the
word was polite, the tone stretched the value of such manners. "Are you
coming?"  
  
"Aye," said Majella. She gave Terrwyn a nudge. "We'll see you around, Davos,"
she winked. As the dark-haired woman and her taller comrade walked to the
door, now shut again with the prince's exit, she stole a look back across the
common room. She had just enough time to see Davos empty his little coinpurse
out onto the table. "Aw," she murmured.  
  
Then she was outside in the cool evening air. Across the street, the prince
stood with the other Companions. They even had Geoffrey upright again, though
listing from side to side. In truth, Majella's head was fairly clear, as was
Terrwyn's. They preferred to keep their wits about them, even when among their
fighting comrades. It just made sense.  
  
"I don't trust him," declared Alaric in a low voice when the whole group was
finally together.  
  
"What's not to trust?" asked Terrwyn.  
  
"That man is no mere sailor. Showing up when he did, running with more luck
than the gods would ever invest in one man and now this? Smooth talk and
drinking like a dwarf? Veiled insults and tall tales? I don't like it."  
  
"I only saw glimpses of him in the fight," nodded Gareth, "but now that I've a
sense of him, he does not quite seem... manly enough to have done all he did."  
  
"Oh, shut up, Gareth," said Terrwyn, "or I'll stuff your 'manly' issues down
your throat myself. And you know I will."  
  
"And there!" Alaric snapped his fingers and pointed to the two of them. "He
already has us at odds with one another!"  
  
"This is called paranoia, Alaric," remarked Terrwyn.  
  
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. We should watch him closely."  
  
Majella's lips tightened. She'd deliberately kept her mouth shut, wanting to
see where the prince would take this without any guidance. Now she knew. "And
by 'we' you mean me, don't you?"  
  
"Vorhast is dead and buried," said Alaric, "otherwise I would have him use his
magic. You are the most skilled at stalking and watching. You could perhaps
even get into his room and search his things."  
  
"Didn't he say Edward had to buy him all new things?"  
  
Alaric waved a dismissive hand. "I would trust Edward's word on that, but not
this stranger's. Majella, are you with me?"  
  
She tried not to roll her eyes. "I'll stick around and keep an eye on him,"
she said.  
  
"Excellent. Let us know what you discover. Come, Companions," he beckoned the
rest, "it's a walk to the palace, and I at least need to sleep this off."  
  
"Yes, but I'm not tired, not at all," muttered Majella. She gave Terrwyn a
reassuring wave before she walked away. They'd all pushed themselves harder
than this while adventuring in the wilderness. Majella could handle a
sleepless night without much trouble. Still, she'd remember the inconvenience.  
  
"Majella!" hissed Terrwyn.  
  
"What?"  
  
The warrior threw her a wink. "The Companions, not The Friends."  
  
Majella threw back a gesture that was at once rude and friendly before she
slipped into the shadows.  
  
* * *  
  
He didn't return to his room right away. Davos remained in the common room for
over an hour, wanting to shake off a little of his buzz with food, water and
time before he went to bed. He spoke with Juliana and her husband, Thaddeus,
about the other times the Companions had been in and the time it took for the
palace to clear a large bill. As he suspected, the coins he'd left on the
table would help keep their funds balanced. Thaddeus assured him that once the
palace paid the bill, he would in turn be glad to reimburse their thoughtful
guest.  
  
Juliana's open appreciation and mild affection for Davos did not extend to
flirting that night. He found no tension at all between husband and wife. They
seemed nicely matched. Either the man simply had no clue at all, which seemed
a touch unlikely given that his wife never came to bed the night before, or
they truly did have a solid "understanding" between them. Davos leaned toward
the latter.  
  
He also leaned toward falling over, and as such excused him once he felt it
unlikely that he would wake up with an awful hangover.  
  
Shuffling into his room, Davos found one lamp already burning, courtesy of the
inn's other staff. He found a full washbasin on the table, washcloths and
towels. Such service still felt alien. Then again, he'd been through many
strange new experiences in the past few days.  
  
Thoughts of goddesses and blessings had been chased away by the stress and
worry conjured up by the dinner. Had he insulted the prince somehow? Was it
his imagination, or did many of the Companions spend more time feeling him out
for weak points rather than simply being friendly? Blearily, Davos used the
lantern to light a few more candles. Later, he'd wonder why he did that when
he intended to clean up and go straight to bed, but men did sillier things
after so much drink.  
  
Davos pulled off his shirt, put one of the washcloths through the basin and
began to wipe his chest down. He looked in the mirror, noticed that his face
was still as smooth as if he'd just shaved and didn't even think twice about
why, and then kicked off his shoes and set to undoing his pants.  
  
He never gave a second thought to the open shutters of his window.  
  
* * *  
  
Across the street on the next rooftop over, Majella's breath grew heavy.
_Gods,_ she thought, _that body. Oh, the pants. Please, don't turn away too
soon, let me see what you've... oh my._  
  
He'd taken long enough in getting up there. Majella could have been in and out
of his room via the window before he'd come back, but she couldn't have known
that. Now she wished she'd hidden herself in his closet or something to allow
for a much closer look at all that glory. If he was that hung while relaxed
and about to go to bed...  
  
Majella's attraction to him had built through the night. He was friendly,
humble, able to hold up a lively conversation and generous to others. At no
point did he dismiss her words or Terrwyn's; even the Companions, who
respected their abilities, would still sometimes let their chauvinism show.  
  
This man fought bravely, ran across a dragon's spine, and paid for a dinner he
hadn't organized when he thought the hosts would be stiffed. And he was
gorgeous.  
  
She saw nothing to be learned from watching him sleep.  
  
Her eyes swept the street, looking again at the path she had already picked
out. From this rooftop to the next, along the awning of that fruit seller's
shop and then a quick lash of her whip to latch onto the railing of the
building across the street, and then a simple couple of jumps from building to
building. She'd be atop the inn before he could blow out all those silly
candles.  
  
She didn't worry about falling. Nor did she worry about being caught. She
could always challenge the other Companions to do better if they had a problem
with the latter.  
  
* * *  
  
He only noticed his silliness with the extra candles when he was ready to
climb into the bed. Davos went from one side of the room to the next to blow
them out, finishing with the lantern. His window got a fair amount of light
from the full moon that seemed almost directly in line with his room. With the
candles and lantern only just now snuffed out, though, it would be a few
minutes before his vision adjusted. By then, he figured, he'd be fast asleep.  
  
The shadow that moved across the faint pool of moonlight on his floor caused
him to look out the window, but he saw nothing there. He took it for an owl or
some other large bird, shrugged and pulled the blankets back to lie down.  
  
Something thumped lightly on the roof. "Raccoons," he muttered, and stretched
out on the bed. The washcloths had cooled him off considerably, but the room
was warm enough that he didn't really want the blankets just yet.  
  
Davos considered opening the window a touch. He looked up and saw some brief
flash of something dark—probably another bird, he figured—but the window, it
turned out, seemed already open a touch. He put the thought aside, took a
couple of slow, deep breaths, and then let out a yawn.  
  
Then he heard the thump.  
  
The figure looming over his bed wore black leather armor, a cowl and a mask
that covered the lower half of her face. He saw weapons—sheathed, but present.
He suspected it might be a woman, but in the one blink-of-an-eye look he had,
he didn't give it much thought. That armor was meant to offer actual
protection, not show off a woman's skin.  
  
He gave none of that any real analysis. He just acted with the only weapon he
had. Davos swung his pillow up in a broad arc fast enough to surprise the
intruder and hard enough to that she staggered to one side, even having gotten
an arm up in time to protect her head.  
  
Davos kicked low, his foot connecting with her armored thigh to shove her
back. He made it to his feet just in time for her to drop low and sweep out
one leg, tripping him and sending him sprawling onto his back. She had his
wrist in a flash, twisting it around his back and rolling him over onto his
stomach.  
  
He could yell for help, but at best that would bring Thaddeus, Juliana or some
other poor innocent running into danger. Davos flailed backward with his other
arm, elbowing his attacker's hip to no avail and then reaching back for
anything to grab. If he could snatch one of those daggers from her belt, he'd
at least have something.  
  
His fingers caught and unclasped a buckle, which seemed to catch on some sort
of string underneath the protective leather and pull that loose, too. That
wasn't what he needed. The results were helpful, though; his attacker was
momentarily distracted, and then he had the chance to twist and gain enough
leverage to tear out of her hold.  
  
He spun around and heard her grunt something dismissive, apparently giving up
on whatever fix she'd need to make for her armor, and then he was on her. The
pair struggled on the floor, grabbing at one another's hands and wrists and
turning this way and that. He thought her awfully strong for a woman her size,
but then, she had probably climbed in through the window and here she was in
armor and sporting blades. None of that spoke to weakness.  
  
She was quick and clearly used to fighting. She knew the tricks. Why she
didn't pull one of those blades on him, he didn't know, but he used his
slightly greater size to his advantage for all that it was worth. In one quick
move, he wrenched her onto her back, pinning her wrists to the floor with his
hands.  
  
He didn't intend to get between her legs. He absolutely hadn't realized how
aroused his sex had become. The first he knew of it came when his cock slipped
over the flesh right where that bit of armor had come undone—and came in
contact with a small patch of soft hair.  
  
Davos gasped, partly in surprise and partly in genuine guilt, but his opponent
just inhaled sharply and eased off on the struggle to free her arms. He caught
the sparkle of her eyes in the moonlight.  
  
"Do it," she hissed.  
  
His hips gyrated enough for him to explore, just a little, without conscious
thought on his part. Her demand caused his basest instincts to overpower his
sense of propriety. His subconscious processed her words of consent before his
conscious mind did.  
  
Shocked and thoroughly aroused, Davos stared into the woman's bright, moonlit
eyes as he pushed into her.  
  
"Ooohhh, yes," she moaned as he penetrated her wet flesh. The intruder's eyes
rolled back and then her head tilted in the same direction as her hips pushed
back to welcome more of him inside her. Davos let go of one of her wrists and
tugged down the black mask covering her mouth and nose to reveal quivering
lips and an entirely familiar face.  
  
"Majella?" he blinked. His body followed its urges.  
  
The woman underneath him smiled and writhed with approval. "Wow, there's a lot
of you."  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"Mmh. Getting _fucked,_" she purred.  
  
"But I—you—" urges got the better of him. Davos planted a hungry kiss on those
lips, which she welcomed gladly. Most of her armor was uncomfortable against
his bare body and the handle of one of her blades jabbed against his side, but
all he really knew was the tongue and lips that melded with his and the tight,
silky bliss of her pussy.  
  
"You could've knocked," he said finally.  
  
"Could've. Isn't this more fun? Unh. Better if... you earn it."  
  
She had a point there. He was fiercely turned on, and so was she. "You let me
hear you, didn't you?"  
  
Her heavy breath testified to her pleasure. She pulled her thighs up and
further apart to wrap her knees and calves around his waist. "Don't tell
anyone?" she asked. Her eyes flared with wanton lust to match her grin. "And
don't you dare stop fucking me."  
  
He would've laughed, but the carnal sensations that drove his judgment also
left him less than fully in control of his own breath. He could move his
hands, though, and soon he set to finding the other buckles and drawstrings of
her armor. Majella gave him plenty of help with that.  
  
Davos rutted on the floor with his increasingly naked partner. Her lithe
figure and small, smooth breasts increased his passion. Vulnerability seemed
to do the same for her. By the time she was down to just jewelry and tall
leather boots, the pair were less concerned with her attire and more concerned
with lust and satisfaction.  
  
"So good," Majella breathed. "Usually I need real foreplay, but this is... so
good!"  
  
"I'm glad," Davos smiled against her neck before kissing it. Majella whimpered
and laughed happily before the pace of his penetration reduced her to heavy
breaths in tandem with his every thrust.  
  
They continued on. Davos's fatigue and rum-induced buzz vanished in the face
of this great pleasure. He remembered Ariella's words about accepting the joys
that came to him, and how he'd have to experience the gifts of the goddess
before he'd be able to truly accept the reality of them. Now he knew.  
  
Juliana had been warm and gentle. Ariella offered sensuality and erotic skill.
With Majella, Davos found delight and enthusiasm as she laughed and squealed
through their raw, needful fucking.  
  
Davos groped, kissed and thrust at her as she gave back in light scratches and
bites, but soon all she could do was lie back and enjoy him. Her first orgasm
caused her to tremble violently and then writhe underneath him in a languid
stretch. Davos kept fucking her, both for his own selfish pleasure and because
he wanted her to have more. He was ready to take her through the night.  

Lustful gratitude swept through his mind, both toward his partner and toward
the goddess who oversaw such fortunes. Three beautiful, sexually confident
women in a day and two nights. He wasn't even tired.  
  
"I owe Aphrodite prayers of thanks for this," he murmured aloud.  
  
Majella shivered underneath him. "We both do." Her fingers interlaced with his
hair, then formed a tight fist to afford her a good grip. "Later."  
  
* * *  
  
"Boy-king. Wake up."  
  
The low, guttural hiss snapped Alaric out of his slumber. He sat upright in
his large, comfortable bed and looked around the moonlit room. He found two
pairs of yellow eyes staring back at him. The goblins dressed all in black
from the look of it, with the usual mishmash of armor under their black
cloaks.  
  
They didn't have weapons out, but their hands were near. Still, if they'd
meant to kill him, they'd never have woken him. Alaric sat upright, naked but
for the sheets covering his waist and legs. "What do you want?"  
  
"Deal got broked," croaked the goblin closest to him. "Dragon alive still.
Angry at the goblins. Very angry."  
  
"I did not break the deal," Alaric shot back, his voice low despite the
privacy offered by his large bedchamber and its solid walls. "Your shaman died
through no action of mine. He knew the risks. My deal was with him."  
  
"Deal not with shaman! Deal with king! Shaman fight for king! All goblins
fight for king!" the goblin said, turning his face up and raising his hands as
if in praise.  
  
Alaric balked. "I never spoke with your 'king!' Nor did my wizard—who is also
dead, mind you!"  
  
The goblin made a face. "King does not know your human monkey-speak. King not
do talky work with humans. Shaman do that. Heralds do that. Grald is herald,"
said the goblin, jerking a thumb at himself. "Good for human monkey-speak.
Good for sneaking. Come talk to boy king. Talk new deal."  
  
"A new deal?" Alaric fairly burst. "What do you even know of the old deal?"  
  
"Know all of old deal," said Grald, crossing his arms over his chest and
nodding with a proud air. "Shaman control dragon, invade city. Prince kill
dragon, talk out peace. Make humans think mountains past Blue River safe, pull
back human soldiers. King take control past Blue River. Everyone get rid of
dragon, but boy king take on curse from killing it. Goblins win."  
  
Alaric scowled. "Yes. The curse," he muttered. He didn't bother hiding his
disdain for such a ludicrous idea. It wasn't as if the goblin would understand
his scowl.  
  
"Now dragon hunt for goblins," said Grald. "Smash bridges in mountains. Spits
fire in our caves. Dragon slept before deal. Dragon supposed to be dead by
now. Dragon not dead. Dragon angry."  
  
The goblin leaned in and poked at Alaric's chest. "You fix."  
  
Alaric slapped its clawed grey hand away. "Don't you touch me, filth!"  
  
Grald made another face—hardly any better or worse than its original
expression to Alaric, but he noted the difference. "Boy king fix problem. Boy
king kill dragon."  
  
"Are you mad?"  
  
"Great king very mad," Grald nodded, raising his hands in praise again. "Great
king _pissed_."  
  
"We could kill it before because your shaman could control it," said Alaric.
"Can your tribe do that again? Do you have another shaman?"  
  
"Not with such power, no," Grald shook his head. "Old shaman could only do
once. If shaman could do it more than once, king would not make deal. Humans
kneel before goblin king!" Once again, Grald put his hands toward the sky...
but then shrugged and let his arms drop. "But not so much. So goblins stay in
mountains and raid lands for what they want. Let humans work and make stuffs.
Goblins take." He nodded sagely. "Goblins _smart_."  
  
Then it was Alaric's turn to make a face. Grald stunk. His garb seemed held
together as much out of luck as anything else. His nameless partner stood
there openly picking its nose. The goblins were plainly savages, but if they
had to tell themselves they were smart to justify holing up in the mountains
and staying out of human lands, so be it.  
  
"But goblins not take on dragon. Boy king do that. Boy king promised to kill
dragon. Boy king do it, or human queen find out about deal," Grald threatened.
"All humans find out about deal. Goblins have ways. Like goblins have ways
into human city now. Not so easy to keep us out after battle, boy king."  
  
"You bastards," Alaric seethed. "How dare you dictate terms to me."  
  
"Boy king is still boy. Goblin king is _king!_" The hands, naturally, went up
again. "Our king not have shame of deal with boy king. Goblins not know deal,
but goblins obey. If goblins find out, goblins still obey. The goblin's eyes
narrowed. "Grald know humans not feel same. Humans not have loyalty."  
  
Alaric nearly choked on that. He'd seen goblins trample one another in a mob
for the loot off of a fallen man or to escape a foe. He'd seen them literally
throw one another in the way of pursuing enemies. But the hypocrisy didn't
bother him nearly as much as the demand it encompassed. "Your stupid shaman
was supposed to make the dragon vulnerable for me," he hissed. "How the hell
do I kill that thing now?"  
  
Grald just shrugged. "You boy king. You figure it out. Boy king have one week.
If not seen in mountains hunting for dragon by then, goblins act."  
  
He stepped back, crossed his arms over his chest, and waited. His partner did
the same. "Now we go."  
  
"Fine. Get out," Alaric sneered.  
  
Grald nodded, but didn't move.  
  
"Well?" asked Alaric.  
  
"Boy king look away. Not see how goblins got in."  
  
"You can't be serious!"  
  
Grald made another strange face. "Grald not just give away secret path! Boy
king turn away or put soft bag-thing over head!" he insisted, pointing to the
pillows. "Grald have reputation to protect!"  
  
* * *  
  
Majella's soft moans and purrs could go on all night and day as far as Davos
was concerned. The lithe, naked woman underneath him knew how to enjoy a man.
With her energy largely spent, all she could do was lay there, look pretty in
the light of the second moon and accept the slow and indulgent touch of her
partner, but she did that well.  
  
"I can't believe you're still hard and up," she murmured, stroking the tool
that rested on the intimate patch of hair between her legs, "or that I'm still
ready for it. Is this what they teach you in that temple?"  
  
Davos grinned. "Would it change your outlook if I said yes?"  
  
"Not sure I'd dedicate myself to Aphrodite, but I'll sure step up the
offerings and prayers," she answered with a sly smile.  
  
"Might want to do that, then. In the meantime... did you really break into my
room for this?"  
  
"More or less," she all but giggled. "I was... alright, you promise not to be
mad? Because I really... _really_ like you right now. I did before this, too,
but now I think we need to be very good friends."  
  
His eyebrow rose. "You could have won that wrestling match if you'd wanted to,
am I right?"  
  
"Who says I lost? I feel pretty triumphant right now."  
  
"Fair enough," he grinned. "My point is, you could've hurt me and didn't. At a
couple of turns. So no hard feelings, no."  
  
"Oh, but I like the hard feels," she joked. "No. I felt pretty charmed after
dinner, but I was watching you because... well. A man like you shows up at
just the right moment in just the right place, saves the day and all that?
Can't blame anyone for being a little careful and keeping an eye on you."  
  
"Alaric sent you to spy on me?"  
  
"I didn't say that," Majella countered, still flirtatious and cheerful. "I'm
admitting my own curiosity." She paused. "I owe Alaric some degree of loyalty
as a comrade, but I'm not his errand girl or his subject. I'll not do
something for him that I don't want to do for myself."  
  
"I would think a band like the Companions would have some oath of loyalty."  
  
"Funny enough, no," she shrugged. "Earlier Companion bands had one. Ours
hasn't. I have to wonder sometimes if it's _Alaric_ who fears being bound.
He's still learning his skills of courtly intrigue and all that," she
explained, rolling her eyes, "but no, it's more a matter of unspoken
obligation and implied loyalties and that sort of thing. If things were more
formal, I think Terrwyn and I would've broken off a few months ago. We... I'm
admitting things I shouldn't, but we stay more out of professional interest
than personal loyalty."  
  
"I got a sense that the men didn't like me much."  
  
"Rum usually gives courage, but sometimes it just makes one's insecurities
stronger. I wouldn't worry too much about it... but I would be grateful if you
didn't tell anyone about tonight."  
  
"I'd love to claim the bragging rights of catching a rogue like you," he
grinned, "but I think we both know that'd be a hollow boast."  
  
Again, Majella giggled. "I'll need to be gone before the dawn," she said. "No
one will see me leave. But until then, I'm happy to make up for your lost
bragging righ—ohh, just like that," she sighed as his cock slid back down
along her wet lips. She relaxed into a state of bliss as he pushed inside of
her, happy to be penetrated once more but lacking the energy to give back.  
  
"You sure you need to go?" he whispered into her ear before he kissed it.  
  
"Yes," she said. "Might need to rest before then, though."  
  
"Then just relax," he replied, but his slow and indulgent thrusts continued.
"I don't have anywhere to be in the morning."




End file.

