Champion, Chapter 40: The Ideal and the Real
Aidan
The Realms
Firstday, 5th week of the 9th month, Age of the Chosen 1
Dawn
Aoife's Chambers, Termondoon, Mistvale Highlands
Congratulations! You have reached level 7 in Oneiromancy. |
Congratulations! You have reached level 55 in Sex. |
Congratulations! You have reached level 18 in Dominance. |
Congratulations! You have reached level 26 in Foreplay. |
Aidan woke up to a splitting headache, the sound of something scratching at the door, and an insistent voice in his head. <intense frustration, rising tension> "Let me in! The guards will be back soon!" He blinked and scrubbed at his eyes. He lay supine on an actual mattress, with Sunnild wrapped around his right arm and Aoife curled up with her head on his stomach. All three of them were stark naked, their clothes and armor strewn across the floor. The voice came to him again, "Let. Me. In!"
"Oh, shit, Riama!" Aidan realized with a start. He extricated himself from his bedmates and hurried to the door, cracking it open just wide enough for his familiar to slip in. She sat on her haunches and glared at him. "Sorry, love," he told her.
"You better be! And you better have food, too. I'm starving!"
"You're always starving," Aidan told the astral jaguar with a chuckle. He located his Handy Haversack and pulled out a whole roast pheasant for Riama. He tossed it to her; she rose up on her haunches to snatch it out of the air.
"I am always starving! You don't feed me enough! I'll never get big and strong if you never feed me!" One disadvantage to the mental connection he shared with Riama, Aidan found, was that she was able to complain about not having enough food while in the middle of devouring a bird that weighed a quarter of her total weight.
A noise from the bed distracted him. Aidan turned his head to see Aoife sitting up, her fingers laced together high above and behind her head. The stretch gave him an eyeful of her heavy breasts, and the smirk on her lips showed that she knew it. "Who is this cutie? You didn't have a cat with you yesterday."
"This is Riama, my familiar. Riama, Aoife, who will be joining us for the trip back home if I can convince Searlas to part with her."
Riama looked up from her meal, then back down again. "Another female for your mating circle; good. When are the kittens coming?" Aidan choked back a laugh, then had to explain when Aoife looked at him funny.
"Riama and I can talk mind-to-mind. She has a different perspective on the world and no qualms whatsoever about sharing her thoughts."
"Oh?" Aoife finished her stretch, then rose and made her way to Aidan. "Let me guess," she asked as she settled down into his lap, "she commented on us having sex and asked about children."
"Yes, actually. How'd you guess?"
"We are catlike in more than appearance, my Lord." She wriggled around in Aidan's lap, then sought out his hand and brought it to her belly. "You do not have to worry about having bastards with me. Lord Searlas likes his trophies to appear unsullied. All our food and drink is laced with contraceptives so that we can't avoid taking them."
"He's crazy. You would look hot as hell pregnant," Aidan told her, burying his face in the crook of Aoife's neck. Her tail looped around his waist as she started to purr.
"Are you going to mate her again? Please let me out before you do," Riama interjected.
"No, I'm still tired. We'll probably go back to bed—to sleep—here in a minute. Did you do what I asked you to?"
"Yes. In this building, I saw only five with iron collars. In the village outside, maybe twenty more. There were several hundred not wearing them."
Aidan stroked Aoife's belly as he thought. "Riama says that she saw only a couple dozen slaves around the village and only a handful here in Searlas's manor. Is that accurate?"
"I don't know exact numbers, but that sounds reasonable if you're only talking about the village. Why?"
"Just trying to get the lay of the land before I negotiate with Searlas. Come on, I just got up to let Riama in and feed her. I'm still far too tired and hung-over to think about anything serious. Let's get back to bed."
"Mm, but I'm so comfy here," Aoife protested.
Aidan laughed and stood, scooping her up in his arms. "You really are half-cat," he told her as he walked back to the bed. Aidan set her down then stretched out next to Sunnild, who was still lost in sleep.
Aoife tucked herself under his left arm and nuzzled his chest. "Lord Searlas will expect us for breakfast shortly after third bell. That gives us a couple more hours to sleep." She kissed Aidan's upper chest, then murmured more sleepily, "He may have another job for me afterward. You remember your promise from last night?"
"I do, Aoife. If I can free you, I will."
Her deep, rumbling purr lulled him back to sleep.
Aidan
Early Morning
"Let him sleep a little longer," a woman's voice said. "If we arrive a few minutes late, well, no one will blame Lord Aidan for wanting more time with me."
"But what if I'm the one that wants more time with ya?" responded a second feminine voice. It was followed by a giggle, the sound of cloth moving against cloth, and then a low, pleased moan.
"Mmm! Lady Sunnild, if you keep doing that—Ah!"
Aidan opened his eyes and turned his aching head. Aoife stood facing Aidan in the center of the room with Sunnild wrapped around her from behind. The harpy girl's hands were moving across her prey's body; one rubbed in slow circles between Aoife's belly button and the top of her silk skirt while the other moved underneath the cloth obscuring her breasts. Neither woman noticed his wakefulness; Aoife's eyes were closed in pleasure, and Sunnild had her face buried in the catgirl's neck.
"What's gonna happen if I keep doing this, hmm?" Sunnild asked, then pressed her lips to Aoife's neck. The fingers of Sunnild's right hand teased at the hem of her skirt, her fingertips slipping underneath for a moment before retreating. Aoife squirmed and moaned again, tilting her neck and raising her hand to tangle in Sunnild's crest feathers.
"Mm! We'll—Ah! We'll be late."
"Didn't ya just say it'll be okay if we're late? I didn't get much chance to pet the kitty last night." Sunnild pushed her hand beneath Aoife's skirt, causing the catgirl to shudder and arch her hips.
"What time is it?" Aidan asked from the bed. Aoife jerked in surprise, opening her eyes to find Aidan watching her be molested.
"My Lord!" she squeaked, trying to writhe free of Sunnild, who was having none of it. "My Lord, breakfast will start in—Ah!" Aoife gasped as Sunnild's right hand found its mark.
"Let her talk, love."
"Aww," Sunnild pouted but slid her hand back up to Aoife's pale belly.
"Breakfast starts in five minutes," Aoife said. Aidan noticed that her hand was still cupping the back of Sunnild's head.
"I'd rather not irritate Lord Searlas by being too late."
Sunnild puffed her cheeks out and gave Aidan a mock-glare. Then she brightened. "Then you can go eat while Aoife and I stay behind!"
Aidan chuckled and got out of bed. Both women turned their heads to watch him, their eyes roaming across his naked body. "Nice try, love. Do you want to be the one to tell Brighid about how you left me to myself in a potentially-hostile Lord's home so that you could seduce and ravish a pretty slave-girl?"
Sunnild blinked at him, then blanched. Aidan could see her horniness drain away, only to be replaced by terror. In one motion, she let go of Aoife and threw herself at Aidan, knocking him back onto the bed. "No!" she cried. "I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking! Please don't replace me!"
"Hey, hey," Aidan murmured to her, "who said anything about replacing you?"
"I've only been yer bodyguard fer a week, an' I already broke the biggest rule!" She turned her face up to look at Aidan, revealing the rivulets leaking from the corners of her blue-gray eyes. "I swear I'll do better!"
Ah, shit, Aidan thought, realizing the problem. She's always been told she's a useless coward, and now I implied that she was forsaking her duty. "Shh," he hushed Sunnild, wrapping her in his arms. "I was only teasing you, songbird. You've done a good job so far, and I have no doubt that'll continue."
"No, I haven't!" Sunnild denied with a wail. "Yesterday, I got drunk on the job 'cause I was bored, and just now, I was tryin' ta separate us 'cause I got horny. I'm a terrible bodyguard!"
Okay, I have to give her that one; getting drunk on the job is pretty bad. "You're not terrible, you're just new at it." Aidan rubbed his hand up and down her back in an attempt to soothe the sobbing harpy. "And I bet you won't make either of those mistakes again, not after this. Still, you're right about getting drunk yesterday. It turned out alright, but that could have been bad." Of course, that drove Sunnild even further into tears, but Aidan wasn't done yet.
"So, as punishment, you will write a report and take it to Brighid, Cai, and Llwyd when we return. I want you to give a full accounting of yourself on this trip, with detailed notes on everything you did right as well as what went wrong. I also want you to come up with at least two ways to fix each of those mistakes in the future. Got it?"
Sunnild looked into Aidan's eyes for a long moment, then nodded. "Yes, sir," she whispered.
"Good girl," he told her. "This is partly my fault; I could've done more to prepare you. I also practically ignored you last night, which was wrong of me even if I was drunk." Aidan leaned down to press a kiss to Sunnild's forehead. "Now, get your armor on, love. We have a Lord waiting for us."
"I will make sure the servants do not give her alcohol, my Lord," Aoife said, "as I should have yesterday." Aidan looked up at her and saw a brief glimpse of emotion in her eyes; respect? Regret? He couldn't identify it before she resumed her courtly mask. Somewhere in the distance, a bell rang. "That is third bell, my Lord. We should make our way to Lord Searlas's dining hall as soon as you have made yourselves presentable."
Aidan nodded and helped Sunnild to her feet before rising from the bed again. He cast a critical eye toward Aoife; she was dressed, but he could see where some of her fur was still matted from the previous night's activities. "Shouldn't you clean up some yourself?" he asked.
Aoife touched one of the stiff patches of fur and shook her head. "No, my Lord. This is evidence that I followed Lord Searlas's commands. If I do not look and smell like you have taken thorough advantage of my body, he might use the collar to make me tell him everything that happened last night. Everything."
Aidan's eyes widened a little. "Ah, I see. Well, you know best, Aoife. Just let me know if there's anything I can do to help."
She shot him a devilish smile. "If we had more time, you could provide a fresh coating. As it is, this will do."
"That wasn't what—" Aidan started to say, then shook his head. She was just trying to get a rise out of him, maybe in more ways than one. He laced himself into his pants and shirt, then turned to help Sunnild with her armor. He directed his attention to Riama, who was pretending to sleep on one of Aoife's bookshelves. "Stay here for now and guard what we leave behind." She opened one eye briefly, then let out a huff of air and closed it again.
Aidan
Mid-Morning
Searlas's private dining hall was a surprisingly tasteful affair, lacking the pageantry of his throne room. A plain table long enough to sit ten or so people occupied most of the floor space, while tapestries with simple geometric patterns covered the walls. The dishes and silverware were of high quality but lacking in filigree or other decoration. Searlas himself sat at the far end of the table, clad in a thin, dark robe, not unlike a yukata. The elven woman from the day before sat at his left hand wearing a similar robe.
"Ah, Lord Aidan, my friend!" he exclaimed when Aoife led them in. He examined his slave for a moment before smiling. "I am glad to see that you found my hospitality to your liking."
Without being asked, Aoife walked over and sat in the chair beside her master. Searlas's right hand disappeared under the table; a heartbeat later, Aoife's skin flushed red and she shifted in her seat. Searlas continued speaking as if nothing unusual was happening. "Please, sit wherever you would like. The food will be out shortly. Oh, and please, no business talk; there will be time for that later, and this is one of the few times I have any peace and quiet during the day."
"Of course," Aidan said, holding out a chair for Sunnild, then taking the seat next to Aoife. She turned her head to look at him, then bit her lip and looked away. Aidan gave her a curious look, but servants appeared with platters heaped high with food before he could follow up.
He was presented with a plate containing fried quail eggs, a small loaf of bread, and several sausage links. Next to that, a different servant placed a bowl of sweet-smelling porridge topped with various fruits. Yet another white-robed catfolk placed a series of glass pitchers at the center of the table. One was clearly milk, one water, and the rest Aidan assumed were juice of some sort.
"You set quite a table," Aidan complimented Searlas. "I'm used to simpler fare, personally, since I cook most of my meals myself."
"Oh?" Searlas arched an eyebrow as he tore a hunk of bread from his loaf. "No servants for the Lord of Ceallach Macht?"
Aidan filled a glass from the milk pitcher and took a sip before answering. Not quite cow's milk, but it's close enough. "Not at the moment, no. I need too much else done to worry about having people do what I'm perfectly able to do for myself."
"Ah, but servants are not for convenience, Lord Aidan," Searlas emphasized his words with motions of his fork. "Do you not delegate tasks and responsibilities to others? You must, or your city will be in chaos by the time you return. You are still easing into your duties, I am sure, but you will quickly either realize the necessity of good servants or go insane from trying to do everything yourself."
"That is a good point," Aidan admitted. He sopped up some of the egg yolks on a piece of the bread and popped it in his mouth, then chased it with another sip of the milk. "I will give it some thought on my return. I would need to find someone to train them first, I suppose; I certainly don't have time for that."
Searlas gave him a fanged grin. "I may be able to help you with that. If I may indulge in pride for a moment, I doubt you could find better-trained servants outside of the ancient empires."
Slaves, you mean, Aidan thought but didn't say. Instead, he nodded and replied, "Yes, I have to say I've been impressed with what I've seen so far. Your household staff is quick, quiet, and efficient, and Aoife was helpful, a sterling conversationalist, and ... attentive to my needs. I would be quite interested in acquiring someone of her caliber." The words turned his stomach, but he fought down the bile; It was better for everyone if Searlas thought his plan succeeded.
Aoife placed a hand on his thigh. He took her hand in his own and gave it a gentle squeeze. Searlas, meanwhile, gave him a measured look. "There are few who live up to that standard, Lord Aidan, and they are precious to me. However, I am a pragmatic man; given the right price and the right circumstances, I would be willing to part with even the prettiest jewel in my crown. But that is a matter for later. Come, let us finish our meal! There is time enough to talk of prices and favors later."
Aoife squeezed his hand hard for several seconds, then disentangled her fingers and returned to eating her breakfast. Aidan followed her lead, doing his best to keep his tension from showing.