The Crush
“This thing called love…I just can’t handle it…this thing… It was a hot Sunday morning in New York City, and a young girl named Charlize Theron was singing along with Queen’s “Crazy Thing Called Love” coming from KSSFM. She was Hoover-ing the floor of her apartment and jigging her body to the beat of the music.
The full length mirror in her room reflected no longer that gawky teen-ager she used to be. She had grown taller with body curves to reckon with. Blonde, angelic face with a blatant flirty look at 21, she ruminated at her reflection, clad in light pink camisole and gauzy cotton panties. She smiled cheekily at her disheveled sexiness; all sweaty and leaving nothing to imagination as her sheer miniscule coverings barely concealed her privates. Unable to contain her curiosity of what her body has to offer, she peeled off the cami and panties and took a good view of her naked self. Not bad, she thought. If her breasts had grown an inch more they would have been really wicked knockers. But as they were she was quite happy and contented with them. She wondered how much her crush that she often saw jogging in the nearby park would react if he saw her this way. Would he make love with her? What if he’s gay?
The thought of making love with her crush gave her the impetus to slide the vibrating handle of the Hoover right up between her legs. Maybe this is the crazy thing called lust.
Panting after getting off with the Hoover, she giggled and collapsed herself on the floor thinking how the Hoover could make out a handy substitute.
That night before drifting into sleep, she planned for an entrapment to lure her crush to her pad and for her to activate the plan, it had to be tomorrow or never.
The following day Charlize woke up early feeling bright and special. Dressed in running gear that showed how a hot stuff she could be, she smiled at how she’d groomed herself as the perfect bait. She recalled the guys in her past, most of them were rockers but not good lovers. And the guys in her ballet class who were reputed to have big dicks were not meant for women. They’re switch hitters, gays, pansies, and fairies. Craving to date a straight man, she hoped this object of her crush was within this category. There’s nothing to loose, she thought, even if he turned out to be that he’s not “it.’ Besides three months without sex –lousy or good is such a shame. Even ugly ones have sex how much more if you have a body designed to have raunchy and really hot sex. She’s ready.
She entered the lush green south park and started jogging. No sign of him around at first sight. Most of the joggers and walkers were middle aged men and women. Anyhow, she’s bright and optimistic that she’d meet him. More than half an hour passed and still the boy crush was still nowhere in sight. She sat down on a bench and felt thirsty. She looked around where that drinking fountain could be because she forgot to bring along her Gatorade juice.
She massaged absentmindedly her right knee with both hands, rubbing back and forth. She was injured in the knee in that Nutcracker gig, which after that had cast aside her ballet ambition. During her recuperating period she had been watching American TV shows and movies that in so doing allowed her mind to wander about moving to LA and try acting as another option. Then she heard a deep husky voice.
“Is something the matter with your knee?” He asked. Her mouth fell. She was stunned. She didn’t realize that her knee, of all things, brought him to her.
“Ah, you! No… it… it’s just my first time to jog…” she said startingly and blushed. “Well, actually I had a knee injury before and I was trying to strengthen it,” she beamed her captivating smile.
He offered her a sealed bottle of mineral water and asked if he could sit down beside her. Of course she was delighted.
“I’m Mílo Stevens.” (Pronounced as My-low)
“Charlize Theron,” she said (pronouncing it as Shayrliz Thairon) and shook hands with him then took a swig from the bottle.
“That’s a unique and pretty name, first time I heard of it. You sure look like an angel just like how your name sounds,” Milo said grinning sexily.
“Thanks, that’s nice to know. Um…You jog here often?” she asked trying to alleviate her shyness.
“Pretty much so, yeah, three times a week and in between I work out at Gold’s gym.”
“Oh, so that’s the activity behind such athletic, muscular figure that is confronting me right now,” she said in a demure tone with eyes sweeping down his muscular legs.
“Do you by any chance, not into guys with muscular physique?”
“No. In fact I’m used to seeing guys having an array of muscles that are well pronounced. I’m a ballet dancer and I found that well-proportioned symmetry in human beings are definitely attractive…with or without clothes.But you know don’t push too hard of getting bigger than that. Your body is perfect enough for me.”
“Well, just trying to maintain muscle tone. Wow! You’re a ballet dancer, huh? No wonder your figure is so appealing. It drove me to you like magnet to steel.”
Charlize’ eyes stared upward as if she had thanked the divine Lord for helping her lay the trap on him.
“What do you do for a living Milo?” she asked still radiating a steady sweet smile.
“Well, my old man is in the construction business and I’m kind of holding a job in his office. You know trying to help.”
“Really? My late father was also in the construction business back home in Africa, building roads. Since he passed away it’s my mom taking care of the business,” she said trying to polish her New York accent. “I was born in South Africa and my father is French and my mom is German.”
“Oh wow! What a combination.” Milo was eyeing her leg that she kept rubbing. “So how’s your ballet career shaping up here New York?”
“I was already playing gigs when the knee injury sidelined me.”
“Can I look at your leg? I am actually practicing Physical Therapy.”
“Sure, you can also touch it, I won’t mind,” she said softly removing her hands on her knees for him to take a better look at.
Milo crouched before her knees. “Hmm,” he said gently placing his hand over her knee. The touch shot languid flames warming between her legs. The other hand wrapped around the ankle and sole and pushed it upward a little bit rotating it clockwise and then on reverse.
“How does that feel?”
Orgasmic! She thought but her lips just muttered “uh-uhh.”
“Some cricks from the joints. Did you hear that?” she asked.
“Yeah, I think it’s been healing by its own but just a little adjustment by a therapeutic massage would put it in a proper healing process.” Both his hands wrapped on her knee and stroke inward quitting at mid thigh.
“Oh, that feels good. You’ve got magic fingers,” she laughed demurely, masking a keen stimulation she just felt.
In the process of fidgeting with her knee and calf, Milo caught a quick glimpse of her white panties through the billowing leg opening of her shorts. He felt his blood raced and converged into his dick. He put back her leg down and rose to his crosstrainers. His six foot frame with an imposing bulge in his shorts gladdened her heart to know she had that effect on him.
“Can you do the massage thing for me and how much?” she asked staring at the bulge before averting to his eyes again.
He cocked one leg on the bench to conceal his erection and slapped his thigh shaking his head. “You don’t have to pay, I do this thing to help people afflicted with what I could care to regenerate.”
Then he offered something that she might not refuse. “Can I buy you breakfast at Schnabbel’s Café?”
“Okay,” she replied and the two walked out of the park. At the sidewalk café they became like old friends.
Back in her apartelle, Charlize couldn’t forget how he touched her leg and kept thinking of Milo all day. She couldn’t wait to be back in the park and being with him.
^ ^ ^ Next morning, Charlize sauntered through the park in high spirits wearing black I Love NY T-shirt and a pair of heather gray shorts with side-split. She saw Milo doing some leg stretching. He was wearing an ivory mesh shirt and beige cotton shorts and Reebok Crosstrainers.
Charlize waved and greeted him.
“Hi! Charlize. It’s good to see you again. How are you?”
“I’m fine, thanks and how are you?” she asked.
“Good, I’ll show you some stretch exercises that’ll be good for your knees and thighs.” So he instructed her to follow him. Since she’s a ballet dancer any form of exercise can agree with her.
“Remember the massage I told you? I can start it today. I don’t have to hurry to the office.”
“Oh, really? My place is just nearby.”
Charlize lay down on her Cleopatra couch in her living room. Milo began to rub his hands with some oil mixed with herbs and then worked on Charlize’s leg, first, with sweeping up motion starting from the foot. Charlize closed her eyes relishing every bit of his kneading, sensual hands.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Oh, great,” she said looking up the ceiling eyes fluttering. Then his cell phone chirped. He frowned at the intrusion and read the message. ” I hate this. Something important came up.”
“Oh… I wish you could finish it today. But of course, I wouldn’t stand in your way, if you really have to go.”
Milo sighed and looked at her. Gently, his head leaned toward her and planted an affectionate kiss on her lips. Charlize felt wonderfully relaxed and languorous. Her mouth parted a bit as his tongue played over her lips in fiery strokes, then skillfully slipped between them. Her heart raced. Everything seemed to be going fast. Milo slipped his hand underneath her top gathering up her left breast, tipping it out of the bra and capturing her erect nipple with his fingers. “Oh, I think you’re getting beyond the leg massage.”
“I know but are you telling me that you don’t like it?”
“No yes I mean…” She said feeling her sensitive nipples would burst at the sensation.
“Tell me if I should go on or not. I feel you’ve got beautiful tits and I wanna see them.” The touch sent exquisite pleasure throughout her body that she was now answering his kisses with ardor. Her head reeling, the pleasure echoed between her thighs, pulsing warmly. She gasped and moaned.
He broke the kiss and knelt on the couch before her feet. Once again he touched her bare foot and then the other foot slipping off the sneaker as well as her ankle sox. He held one foot and tugged her toes one by one. She restrained the touchy tickle as he went to do the next. When he’d done with her feet, he pulled up his mesh shirt and revealed a golden tanned body with rippled abs. He wanted to impress her with his physique.
“Wow,” she cooed.
He brought down one of his foot on the floor leaving the other cocked by the knee on the couch. Then he grasped her left foot, one hand on the instep the other below the sole and lifted it up to the level of his chest and rotated her bent leg gently clockwise and then counterclockwise. After several repeats he placed her foot flat against his chest. Then he leaned forward pressing her leg to bend as far as her knee was almost touching her breast. He made the other knee pointed outward by pressing gently on the inner thigh. He switched to the other leg and did the same thing. After that Milo let her foot slid to his hardness. Charlize took the opportunity to pause her foot over the bulge feeling him through the shorts. She saw the look of excitement in Milo’s passion-dark eyes and the hunger she saw there sped liquid fire through her loins. Then Milo seized the right foot and bent it over to the left, with the other leg stretched out straight. Then he pressed down his hands on the side of the knee and hip giving a good stretch on the pelvic area. He did this too to the other leg. Lastly, he raised both feet pressing them against his chest and from thereon he leaned forward pushing the knees to her chest.
By this time Milo knew the next best thing to do–spread her legs to access himself leaning on top of her. Charlize wrapped her arms around him and raked her fingers through his hair from the nape up as he reclaimed her mouth with his. She felt his hardness grind on her pussy and a sweet sensation throbbed within her. Though this is no longer a massage therapy for her knee, she’s not one to refuse. A moan escaped her lips every time Milo pulled his lips away from her. He felt her boobs again and after awhile pulled up her shirt. He peeled off her bra and fondled her breasts, pressed them together so he could wag his tongue at her nipples like all at once. She arched her chest as Milo enforced his mouth to suck her nipples like they would grow big like those of nursing mothers in his mouth. Charlize restrained her screams as she found herself getting off from his suckling. When he let go of the nipples they appeared incredibly ripe and bigger and the circle around each was swollen. She felt her heart was beating at a mad pace.
At the throes of sensual passion, his cell phone chirped again. Milo slightly showed his being pissed off at the darn phone but answered the call just the same.
As he stood on his knees on the couch, Charlize sat up and touched his muscled thighs. Her hands inched upward just below the legs of his shorts as he talked over the phone. Milo showed a mixed feeling of joy and being pissed off on his face as her hand sneaked under his shorts. When her hand was just short of reaching his balls, his hand trembled at his mobile phone in anticipation to Charlize’s teasing effort.
Damn client had to wait, nothing could be as precious as this moment. To ignore this moment was tantamount to being insane. He thought and ended the conversation.
Milo broke a mirthful grin in his face as he gazed at her lovely face. She lay on her back and his gaze swept from top to bottom of her 5′ 10″ frame. Studying her finely molded face and body, he ached to possess her. Unable to hold back his aching desire, he tugged her Adidas shorts down with authority and she offered no resistance. Her white impeccable panties almost made him shoot his wad.
She raised her knees and pressed them together out of modesty or the little self-consciousness that’s still left in her. Milo closed his fingers on her knees spreading them apart. As her legs lay almost flat on the couch, she watched his face hovered above her gauzy cotton panties. They hugged very well the part it concealed.
Charlize self-consciously became anxious of how she smelled down there. But as often as always she washes herself with soap and water as her mother taught her the proper hygiene. Never in her life had a guy got his face this close to her pussy nor intended to go down on her. She gave oral sex once to a band member but was never reciprocated. But once Milo drew his lips down on her and started swirling through the smooth fabric of her nice panties, she sucked an awful amount of air and any remnant of resistance was swept away, and she felt as if she were drowning in a great undertow of passion.
Rubbing his mug to feel her pubic hair through her panties and that soft mound of hers was utterly the greatest. To Milo the taste of sweat and musky smell of a woman was divine. Milo smoothed his palm over her thighs moving up to her groin. His fingertips sneaked a little bit along the panty legs lifting them up so some of her pubic hair lurked out on view and having the material stretched marked the outline of her pussy. Then he let go of the panties snapping back to her skin and he kissed around the vicinity of her sex. She felt tormented by pleasure and started breathing heavily. As his lips assaulted her groin his fingers hooked on the sides of her panties. He began drawing them down and she lifted her ass as her panties slid over her thighs unveiling her pussy to his smoky eyes. Greg smelled the arousal of her pussy. The honey-brown hair was moistened along the cleft.
“This is divine,” he responded examining her meticulously.
“What’s so divine about that?”
“Cue the violins if I may sound so cheesy. It’s your pussy lips.”
“My um…?”
“Yeah, your vertical smiling lips, your inner labia. Some girls’ lips are all tucked up inside and hidden away. But yours are um…you are anatomically blessed by nature with inner lips showing themselves off in all their fullest glory, they protrude and spread nicely outwards.”
“Really? I never heard of that commentary even from girls. Are you some sort of a connoisseur of pussies?”
“My father used to have tons of magazines about naturists and my parents had posed in one of them when they were young and newly-married.” Charlize listened to him intently forgetting about her pussy on show and began to relax languorously.
“And then?”
“I discovered them when I was a kid and from then on I began sneaking copies into my bedroom and studying the shapes and sizes of the female anatomy. That’s when I discovered jacking off,” he cracked with a wicked grin.
“Now back to my outlandish pussy as you seem to describe,” she said and he gazed back to her pussy.
“Yeah, and what’s more, with nicely spread inner lips like yours, it tells of how aroused and receptive you’re getting and there’s a song by the Beatles that I like to paraphrase at this instant if you care to know what I mean.”
“Getting wetter all the time,” he sang.
“The wetter the better,” he sniggered.
Charlize, without even seeming to think, instinctively placed the middle finger of her left hand between her parted lips and then looked down as she retrieved it. She was surprised just how covered in her own juices it was.
“Hmmm, it’s amazing how wet it really had become,” she said in an almost embarrassed tone, blushing slightly.
Milo grabbed her hand and sucked off her wet finger licking it like it was dipped in a cake’s icing. Her eyes shot a wide-eye look. He edged his face closer to her pussy and blew on the hair. Lo and behold! The inner lips blossomed out of its own accord and goose bumps rose on her skin.
“Wow! A pussy to die for. Had it not for the hair I could have been killed.”
“What about the hair?”
“Nothing to it. It’s just wild and thick almost concealing your exquisite, generously endowed pussy lips.”
“I’ll shave it for you the next time. I want to see you die,” she chuckled.
“That’s for sure and I’ll get buried there and see heaven.”
“What are you supposed to do now?” A beat. “Are you going to massage that too?”
Milo glanced at her face. “Place your finger over your pussy.”
“Hah?” She was jolted but obliged. “Like this?” she said placing her middle finger between the outstretched lips, while timidly looking at Milo, almost child-like, as if seeking his approval. . “Higher, you know like you would play yourself– around the clit area.”
“Oh, I’m bashful to do what you think I have to do.”
“Just play, play it for me.”
Immediately her finger started to rhythmically massage herself around her exposed clit and upper lips area, asking if this was what he wanted.
“Yes, that’s lovely, absolutely lovely,” Milo replied.
She began quite slowly and gently and then eventually began to quicken her pace. Rubbing much faster and harder now, concentrating more on around her clit than anywhere else, she started to writhe and moan. Milo drew his lips to her pussy, pushed away her finger and replaced it with his. With his forefinger and thumb he clamped one outer lip and pulled it up and threw feathered licks into her moist pink feminine folds.
“Hmmm, this is gourmet pussy,” Milo said licking the oyster soft petal lips of her pussy. He ran his tongue from the lower to upper part of the lip, as though he was tracing one side of the parenthesis. Her breath caught in her throat, and she seemed to be floating away on waves of exquisite pleasure.
“You’re so lovely,” he whispered against her downy hair. “So very lovely.” He repeated tracing his tongue at the lower inside part of one inner lip, stopping over above the clit hood and finishing at the lower inside part of the other. Then he pushed a finger inside her, in and out while twisting at the wrist and lapped up her clit with his tongue remembering the pressure she had put over on that with her finger. Charlize couldn’t utter a word. Her breathing became choppy and hips bucked and thrust against his face. She didn’t know if she would urinate or what. It was the most exquisite sensation she had ever felt and tears of bliss were smarting her eyes. She fondled her breasts not sparing to pinch her tiny nipples, which stood like bullet heads between her fingers. She was hot and on the brink and Milo simply knew what he had to do. “Oh…ohhh….That’s so good…so good,” Charlize whined.
Nathyrra nods, “Now you see why I told you that drow males are considered dangerous, stupid, and unstable. Anyone can look at you and see that you should be treated with respect. No female would ever think to insult you so. The Seer says that we must teach males to act better and treat them with respect. Those that do not follow the Seer can be quite hard to take.”
Valen checks and her silks are dry so he takes them to her, “Here, you can sit up now. I’m nearly done with your armor. I’ve wiped it down, and oiled everything, including all of your straps.” Valen moves back to work on his armor.
She wriggles into her silks and sheds the bed roll. She pads over to Valen and touches his shoulder lightly, “Thank you — for everything.” She crouches next to the fire, warming herself.
Valen notices that she’s cold so he sets his armor aside for a moment, “Come here. I can tell you’re cold,” as he scoops her into his lap. He shifts so that they are both closer to the fire. He reaches around her and resumes cleaning his armor.
Nathyrra blushes to see them being so domestic.
Morrighu’s head lolls against his shoulder, eyes closed and her forehead rests against his neck. He keeps working and every so often he bends foreword and kisses her cheek.
Nathyrra looks at Valen, “I will go keep watch for now. She seems to be in good hands.” Nathyrra moves outside to keep an eye on their quarry.
Valen finishes up with his armor and turns his full attention to Morrighu. He begins caressing her gently, just a soft brush of the finger tips on her arms, her thighs, her face, on any sensitive place until she is sighing in contentment.
He chuckles at the ease and simplicity of her response so she turns to look at him, “You seem fairly content yourself.”
He grins, “Sitting by a fire with a beautiful woman in my lap tends to make me content.”
She grins back at him, “It is relatively pleasant. Which watch should we let Nathyrra take?”
He grins back, “Which ever one you’d like to be awake for.”
She arches a brow, “And just how do you plan to make sure that I remain awake?”
He laughs and kisses her in answer. He gets up and rearranges the bed rolls so that his and Morrighu’s make one larger bed roll. Morrighu sits watching him as he arranges everything to his satisfaction.
He gestures for her to lie down, “I’ll see if our journey rations survived the dunking that we took.”
She lies down and looks at him, where he crouches rummaging in their packs, looking for water damage or things that need to be dried out.
She sighs, “Why are you so intent on taking care of everything?”
He looks at her, “Because I want you focused on the task at hand. I don’t want you being distracted by wondering if something in your pack is wet or by being hungry or tired. What we’re doing is dangerous enough and I promised you that I would do my best to protect you. It’s all part of the job. Further more, as your patron-protector, it is my duty to see that you are both safe and comfortable. Duty and obligation are only part of the story though. It pleases me to see to your needs. You seem pleased with my efforts and your pleasure pleases me as well.”
She grins, “Hmmm…I have my own ideas in that regard.”
He blushes furiously and spins to face her, “Do you now?”
She looks him in the eye, suddenly serious, and nods slowly. Her hand reaches up and pulls his head toward her. She kisses him slowly and deliberately, savoring the taste of him. He shifts position slightly and slides his thumbs along her jawbone, until he can cup her head. Suddenly she finds that he’s kissing her and she sighs, pulling back.
He looks at her askance, “Is something wrong?”
She shakes her head, “No, I have something to tell you. It may or may not be important to you.”
He looks at her and gestures for her to continue, “My cycle is due to start tomorrow. It’s one reason I wanted to leave camp. I…I have been known to be moody and temperamental. I was afraid if one of the other drow males mouthed off, that I might snap. There is enough tension between House Maeviir and the Seer as it is. There’s also another reason. It is also…well…I’d be less likely…um….the Seer gave me some herbs to take….ah”
He looks at her startled, “Are you trying to tell me that you would be less likely to become pregnant? And you have herbs from the Seer to help with this as well?”
She nods, mute and blushing. Finally she clears her throat, “I know I’m not handling this very well, but I don’t have much experience. I’m attempting to muddle through as best I can.”
He grins at her, “You really ought to hold that thought until we’re done with the Valsharess. One reason is that I fear being too distracted to protect you. She may send more assassins at any time. Another is that I would prefer to have the time to devote a proper amount of attention to you. I do not foresee us having a couple of days where I will be able to lock the door and tell everyone to leave us alone unless the building is on fire until we have dealt with her. What I meant when I said that I would rather wait until I can do a proper job, I have certain specific things in mind.”
She laughs, “Hmmm…perhaps that is worth waiting for.”
He laughs as well, “That does not preclude me being affectionate with you in the mean time, though.” He’s finished rummaging through their packs and pulled out some journey rations. He tosses her one of the hardened cakes, “Here, you need to eat something. I know it’s not your favorite, but its all there is.”
She laughs at him, “As long as you don’t tell me what’s in it, I’ll eat it.”
He grins, “I have sworn the whole camp to secrecy. No one will tell you what’s in any drow food. I have to keep you fed somehow and there isn’t much to choose from.”
She laughs and nearly chokes on the food so she swats at him playfully, “Don’t do that. Imagine the irony if I were to choke on one of these things.” She wags the journey cake at him, accusingly.
He frowns at her in mock anger, “You had better eat and then go to sleep, or I shall be forced to take stern measures with you.”
She bats her eyes and grins at him coyly, “Oh, fearsome tiefling, surely you would not do anything to a poor helpless innocent such as myself.”
Valen, who had been drinking from a water skin, chokes and spits his water to keep from inhaling it. He shoots her a dark look, “Very well, we are even.”
Valen moves outside the cave to take Nathyrra a journey cake.
She looks the tiefling over, “You certainly seem to be in a good mood. Being her patron-protector seems to agree with you. I think you should give her what she wants. If you decide to, I will stand watch all night, if need be. You are correct that what we are doing is dangerous. She is correct that any chance for happiness should be seized. If she falls, you will never forgive yourself.”
Valen sighs, “I will not let her fall. Neither will I start something I might not be able to finish with her. She is too precious.”
Nathyrra shakes her head, “So be it, patron-protector.”
He sighs heavily, “I take my role seriously. I do my best to keep her safe. How safe would she be if she had to fight while carrying my child? I know enough to know that a woman’s bones soften and her balance shifts early on, long before her belly starts to grow. I will not risk her so. I will protect her from everything I can, even myself.”
Nathyrra touches his arm gently, “You cannot protect her from every remote risk forever, Valen. It sucks all the joy out of life for both of you.”
He looks at Nathyrra and smiles, “You are a good friend to her. I promise that as soon as this is over, I will take her somewhere safe — somewhere that there is peace enough and time enough — and I will do my best to see she gets what she wants and then some.”
Nathyrra nods and Valen moves back inside. He sees Morrighu stretched out, face down on the bed roll. He grins to himself as he kneels next to her. He tugs her shirt off and pushes her back down as she starts to roll over, “No, hold still.” He moves down and tugs her pants off as well. He takes a bit of the oil he was using on their armor and warms it in his hands.
He begins with her foot, thumbs kneading the arch of her foot. Somewhere between her calves and her thighs, she’s drifting blissfully. He works his way up and soon he’s kneeling across her hips with his thumbs working the big muscles on either side of her spine. He can feel the tension leaving her as he works. He had known she was strong, but hadn’t realized how muscular she is. He’s appalled at the scars on her then he considers what she told him about her goddess finding her at the edge of death. He bites his lip, understanding just how badly she was injured — the scars are what remain after the goddess healed her as much as She was able.
He traces them tenderly before moving to her shoulders. He moves her hair aside and begins making small circles with his thumbs up the back of her neck. She sighs and begins to move but he stills her again. He works outward across her shoulders and down her arms. He can feel places where her bones have been broken and a couple of them haven’t mended properly. It’s almost enough to make him weep; a mortal frame wasn’t meant to endure the kind of punishment she’s taken.
He catches her hand and kisses her palm, “Now that you have eaten and you should be relaxed, will you please get some sleep?”
She yawns largely, stretches, and crawls into the bed roll. She looks at him, “Are you going to keep my feet warm or not?”
He grins and joins her, stroking her hair while she drifts off. After a while he gets up and sits by the fire, turning their wet things. Nathyrra comes back in and sees him sitting there staring into the fire.
She looks at him concerned, “Valen, what’s wrong?”
He sighs heavily, “It’s nothing really. I just…she’s been through so much and yet she carries it so lightly. She never complains — about anything — even when she has good reason to. She’s been hurt so badly so many times, I’m pretty sure she’s in pain most of the time, yet she never says a word about it. The Seer could spend a month healing her and it wouldn’t be enough.”
Nathyrra looks at him curiously, “You feel pity for her. I don’t think she feels pity for herself. She’s usually quite happy. If you want to do something for her, we could start slipping full potions of healing into her rations. If it’s as bad as you say, it may take quite a while before it has a noticeable effect. She’s
certainly got enough gold to pay for them.”
Valen nods, “I think that might be a good idea. I know that she hates potions. Will you help me find a way to conceal the taste?”
Nathyrra thinks, “I have some things in my pack. Given her fondness for drow food, I think I might be able to manage something.”
Valen chuckles, “Another thing we share.” He starts pulling on his under-padding and grimaces because it’s still damp.
Nathyrra looks at him curiously, “How did the two of you wind up soaking wet anyway? Did you dunk her again?”
He shakes his head, “No, I didn’t. I still feel badly about dunking her the first time.” While he dresses he tells her about chasing the drow scout and diving through the bottom of the pool.
Nathyrra shakes her head, “I will speak to her. She really must be more careful. We cannot loose her now. The troops would be completely demoralized.”
Valen nods and moves off to take his watch. Nathyrra goes and stretches out on her bed roll and lays there looking at the sleeping paladin. Nathyrra looks at her sleeping peacefully and decides the paladin is a study in contrasts before she drifts off to sleep as well. Valen sits outside watching to make sure their quarry does not slip past them and thinking about his decision and Nathyrra’s words, as well as her offer to stand watch.
~*~
The elf looks puzzled, “I still don’t understand why feeding the bodies to the harpies was so important.”
Valen sighs, “While such a thing may not be common where you come from, it is easy enough to resurrect someone if the body is all or mostly intact. Since she planned to wait a few days before posting the heads at the entrance of the caverns, the harpies would have eaten and digested the bodies. It meant that resurrecting the fallen would be impossible. It was meant to send a message that there would be no quarter asked and none given. You must also keep in mind that she’s still carrying the head of the drow scout we encountered with her. The cube-thing ate his body. Her plan was to hunt down all of the Valsharess’ forces in the area and leave only the heads at the entrance to the caverns. It was beyond bold. A single misstep and it would backfire on her easily. She wanted to force the Valsharess to move in haste and in anger, hoping that this would give her an opening to draw her into a mistake.”
The elf still looks puzzled, “I don’t understand what you mean.”
Valen rolls his eyes, “Strategy and tactics are never the long suit for bards. When you understand this, you will understand what my love was up to. Before a thousand mile journey to meet an enemy, what is the first thing you want to be sure of?”
The elf thinks for a long time, “That you have enough supplies, I guess.”
Valen laughs, “No, you want to be sure that the journey is his.”
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