- The Archivist, your narrator

"Où sont nos amoureuses?

Elles sont au tombeau."

"Shesayne, my sweetest, I have a favour to ask you." Marséna said in her most honeyed voice as she placed soft little kisses on her half-elven lover's neck. It was just daybreak and the paladin's bedchamber was filled with the bluish light of an early Sigil morning.

"What this early...?" Shesayne groaned, stirring under the sheets and clutching the Mareterran paladin closer to her, hungry for warmth and affection, but especially sleep.

"Yes, well it's something of a big favour."

"Hmm...go on then - I'm listening and at your service." The petite half elf clutched Marséna tightly, wrapping her slender legs around the paladin's waist and running long, dextrous fingers through her lover's charcoal-black hair.

"I was thinking of going back home, you know, to Overnha for two days and a night or so. It has been such a long time, after all."

"Great, but how can I help you with that?" Shesayne asked, absentmindedly twirling a corvine lock of Marséna's hair in her fingers. She really could have done with a little more sleep; it was not often that she felt so relaxed, especially now that Friyya and Syf had made up so she had Marséna all to herself.

"Well, I was thinking that maybe you could take Lily around in the meanwhile...you know, you're an expert on every single alley in Sigil. Just show her around, take her out..."

"Isn't that what Virg should be doing and pursuing?"

"Well..." Marséna realised at that point that there was no delicate way to put it, so she said it to the hollow of Shesayne's throat without daring to look her in the eye, "Virginia...sort of had the idea of coming with me...."

"What?" Shesayne snapped, suddenly very much awake, "What, what, what...just a moment, milady knight..."

"Oh, Goddess, I know it sounds terrible, but really, she just apparently had this urge to visit. Don't ask me, because I could never explain it, but she was very insistent that we go together." Marséna said desperately.

"Do you know how this sounds to me? Suspicious doesn't even begin to describe or explain it, more like plotting and conspiracy and backstabbing to me."

"Shesayne, sweetest..."

"Sweetest nothing, get off me this instant!"

"Come on, my treasure, please...hear me out." Marséna implored, holding the half-elf tight to her despite the objections.

"Fine, fine, fine." Shesayne conceded, calming herself a little. She had been caught somewhat unaware by the proposition. But it was, after all, unsurprising. She knew that it was only a matter of time before Virginia and Marséna sought to rekindle their friendship - and perhaps more - it would only have been counter-productive to object much more. Shesayne had to admit, not for the first time in her life, that her fate was entirely out of her own hands.

"It's just a silly little visit," Marséna began cautiously, "and it would give you the opportunity to...well, bond with Lily. You are working together, now, aren't you?"

"Yes, I s'pose, but...you have to understand that I'll spend all my time imagining, visualising and thinking about you and Virg getting all hot, wet and intimate while poor little me waits for you in Sigil like an abandoned child."

"Oh, stop being so dramatic," Marséna said jokingly, "and since when are you so jealous?"

"It's not that I'm jealous, I just don't like things happening behind my back."

"So I promise," Marséna said, shifting her gaze so she could look Shesayne straight in the vivid blue of her eyes, "that there's nothing to worry about." She was, however, unsure. Her desire for Virginia had lingered like a lambent flame deep within her, occasionally rekindled and sometimes muted by other concerns, but never extinguished. She had always loved and thought that she would never cease to love Virginia on every possible level: a friend, a sister and a lover and more besides.

'"I give up Marséna - I pack up and surrender." Shesayne replied, her tone resigned, "Do whatever you need to do and come back to me if you still want me. I think I'll be here. Provided you don't find a spider shaped knife in my back."

"No, Shesayne...kitten, it's not that." Marséna struggled desperately, knowing full well that the damage had been done. Of course, that was what damage limitation exercises were for.

"Stop the pet names, they're ridiculous coming from you." The half-elf tone was sharper than Marséna had heard it in a long while.

"Don't hurt me like this, please."

The half-elf relented, after all, it was not entirely the paladin's fault, "Marséna, I know I cannot be Virginia to you. I always knew this, but I tried and did my best to pretend it wasn't the case, so we could at least try to be happy. But now I'm not bitter or angry at you, sometimes fate, life and the ways of the Multiverse flow that way and we've got no choice but to follow. I'll take care of Lily, but I want you to take of yourself and Virg, so when you come back you can tell me what you want to do. But get this, Marséna, make it a point in your mind and never let it go, whatever you choose to do, I'll be fine with it; if you want to come back to me, half of any bed I sleep in will always be yours - or Min's, but that's another story." Shesayne smiled wanly, if only to tell Marséna that there were no ill feelings, just quiet resignation.

"Do you love me?" Marséna asked, perhaps unnecessarily. Her deep, brown eyes betrayed both her confusion and sadness and Shesayne, ever perceptive, realised the point of the question even as it was being asked.

"Of course and without a doubt," Shesayne said eagerly, sitting up to kiss Marséna's sensual lips, "but I'm prepared to accept and live with the fact that there others who love you as much, even more. But that's for you to judge."

"Thanks..., sometimes I think you're too kind, too understanding."

"No, it's just me and the way I am. What I think is really strange, though, is how you once told me we you were a jealous person. Sometimes, and I guess it's normal, you expect things from others that you would never put up with yourself."

Marséna objectively felt terrible. Shesayne was absolutely right, there was at least an element of profound selfishness in the proposal she had just inflicted on her lover. Deep down, however, the Mareterran girl had never truly understood Shesayne; all she saw was a carefree, eccentric and temperamental mask. The real Shesayne, the real heart that beat in her chest, the real soul that filled her veins, those things were secret, locked away in a box to which only Min, in all probability, had the key. In their brief time as a couple, they had laughed, quarrelled and made love with equal frequency, but each time Marséna felt no closer to Shesayne's true self.

"I'm sorry, Shesayne, I'm being selfish." Marséna confessed.

"No, no, no. Don't let it trouble you or weigh on your mind, if I were you, I'd do the same thing. We all need to decide sometime, better now than let this drag on forever, right?" Shesayne was smiling again; had she reached an epiphany, a final understanding of the nature of things to come? Marséna did not know, she could only imagine the world which had just opened up; a world where, perhaps, her weary soul could finally find its twin.

"Sometimes I don't know how to thank you..." Marséna said, almost reverently as she kissed Shesayne again, grateful to feel the slender half-elf's soft, naked body beneath her.

"Well, you can take me out for breakfast, I had a craving for rose-water jelly." Shesayne answered playfully.

"Hmm, you naughty girl, you know I'm not supposed to leave the Temple at this hour."

"I don't think we ever let that stop us."

"Well, get moving and get dressed, if that's the right word." Marséna commented snidely, referring to Shesayne's questionable wardrobe sense. The paladin was convinced that the outfit Shesayne had casually cast on the room's single, wooden chair the previous evening could have fit into a coin purse.

"Oh how amusing, witty and funny," Shesayne said with gentle sarcasm, rising to a sitting position on the bed as she gave Marséna a passionate, deep kiss, "by the way, how do you think Lily will take the news?"

***********

"So?" Lily said nonchalantly. The dark elf shifted slightly under the sheets, the tips of her toes gently teasing Virginia's calf.

"Look, I must confess I know nothing about drow culture," Virginia said, somewhat surprised as Lily snuggled closer against her breasts, the drow's breath warm on her pale skin, "but I introduced the subject with a little...well, tact because I imagined you might be jealous."

"Of what?"

"Well, some might say that I could be planning to be intimate with Marséna behind your back." Virginia said, not without embarrassment.

Lily shifted again as she pulled the bed sheets tightly over herself - she still had to get used to the cold nightfalls and cool daybreaks of Sigil - and gently nuzzled the valley between Virginia's breasts, her thick, silvery-white hair spilling freely over the paladin's chest and abdomen, "So?"

"Does that not trouble you?" Virginia inquired, decidedly perplexed and somewhat unnerved by Lily's utter lack of concern - if anything, the dark elf was more affectionate than ever.

"Why should it? You are priestess - are you not - and one of some rank. It is only natural that you have many clients who seek to use your status or favour. As long as I remain your favourite, though, I have no objection."

Virginia was, to put it mildly, taken aback. She did not know whether to be grateful or frightened, "So having numerous lovers is natural in your society?"

"In truth, it depends," Lily explained, running her hands down Virginia's taut, muscular flanks, down to the gentle swell of her athletic bottom, "a male found servicing another besides his Matron would certainly be killed, unless, of course, it were another male. But that is our way, males have neither subtlety nor discrimination, so they must be kept in line. We females, though, have the wisdom to choose those whom we know will guarantee our advancement or our survival - however, there are some Matron-Mothers and High Priestesses I have heard of, to whom it would be wise to devote yourself entirely - male or female." The dark elf's lilting accent and occasionally oddly formal register always struck Virginia, but it was a wonder she had managed to become so proficient in Sigil's lingua franca in such a brief space of time.

"I understand. But Lily, I must ask you, is that the way you see me, as one who can guarantee your status?" Virginia said, somewhat concerned that her feelings, as confused and budding as they were, may not be reciprocated.

"Of course."

Virginia sighed melancholically to herself, "I simply do not know what to say to that."

Sensing the blonde paladin's distress, Lily sought to better convey the sentiment, "Remember the first night we coupled? You said I was yours and that, for us, is a very powerful statement. I was very proud."

"But what of feeling, what of emotion?"

"What do you mean?" Lily challenged.

Virginia would have once been uncomfortable having such a frank and difficult conversation with Lily, but the narrowly-averted crisis between Friyya and Syf had taught her the value of a degree of emotional honesty, "What I mean is that when I wake up in the morning, I feel joy because you are at my side. When I return from my duties, it is a relief to bathe with you, to caress you and make love to you."

"As it is to me, but we drow are more pragmatic. When a child is born, it needs its mother, when a child ventures out, it needs its allies, or it will be beaten by its playmates, when an Initiate joins the college of the Temple, she must find a priestess to be her lover and protector, or her jealous rivals will bring about her downfall. These are all powerful relationships where deep attachments are formed, but they are relationships of need and dependence. We know them for what they are and not what we hope them to be. That is the problem with you beings of the surface, you create sentimental images of life, but refuse to stare it straight in the face."

Virginia smiled wryly to herself. She learned something new from Lily virtually every day. Stroking the silky, soft white mane of her lover's hair, Virginia drew the dark elf close to her and exhaled softly as she felt Lily's violet lips gently begin to kiss a soft, wet trail up the pale mound of one of her breasts, "In a sense, Lily, I suppose you have a point, but do you not like me for who I am?"

"Of course I do," Lily snorted, almost as if Virginia's proposition were ridiculous, "how could I, a daughter of the Spider Goddess, give myself to a woman I did not hold in the highest esteem? I would never insult my dignity as a drow by falling to such a level."

Virginia gasped sharply as she felt Lily's lips wrap around the stiff nipple at the peak of the breast which had been enjoying the dark elf's attention.

"Lily, I have to tend to my duties soon." She warned, eyes already half closed in pleasure as the drow's skilful, malicious little tongue began to flick the engorged bud beneath it with firm, wet pressure.

"Spoken like a true priestess, I am honoured to grant you my favours." Lily said approvingly. In her culture, dedication to one's religious vocation was paramount and Virginia's commitment struck the dark elf as commendable.

"I promise I will make it up to you." Virginia consoled, cupping Lily's chin, "But today I really need to show myself on top form, Isobel said that she will announce who our squad leader will by next daybreak. If there is anything to do to sway her opinion, it best be done today."

"If you were to be chosen, I would lavish such rewards on you that you will regret not having been born drow." Lily said seductively, her voice tinged with a deep undercurrent of passion. Little excited her like the prospect of power or advancement. So she kissed Virginia passionately, her tongue indomitable against the paladin's lips and into her mouth.

"I don't need to be born drow, I already have you." Virginia said softly as Lily broke the kiss for breath.

"But I am your favourite, am I not?"

"Of course." Virginia said, hungrily meeting Lily's violet lips again with her own, the drow's eyes, almost purple from Virginia's perspective, appeared to shimmer in anticipation.

"If there is but one request I can make, Virginia," Lily said, sliding one delicate, stealthy hand under the sheet to cup the blonde paladin's sex, "is that you consider ridding yourself of surplus, ah..., what is the word..."

Virginia squirmed slightly under the hand pressed against her warm sex, Lily's fingers were always brought with them a deep charge of erotic tension - as if they could lunge deep into her at any moment and plumb the rich, velvety depths of her sex at a whim, "You mean shave?" The blonde paladin had always been reluctant to entertain that request, despite Lily's protestations that the blonde curls atop her sex were chafing when they coupled. It seemed unnecessary; when the skin was potentially in evidence, as it was under the arms or on the legs, then it was only right and proper to maintain the highest standard of purity, but to shave one's sex seemed contrived, perverse even.

"Yes, I think it would make our coupling more enjoyable and be far more elegant." Lily suggested, running her fingers with bemused curiosity over the outer lips of Virginia's sex. Personally, she had always found the idea of body hair of any description utterly repellent, though she had made an exception for Virginia on the grounds that surface dwellers were, after all, barbarians or, at the very best, beings of lesser aesthetic taste - she imagined that there was far worse still and that the blonde paladin represented the upper end of the spectrum.

"Only if you are an el-, uh drow." Virginia said, quickly correcting herself, "Then it comes naturally, but then I would have to...ah, scrape it off with a razor and I think you know that even we humans are a little sensitive there."

"You could aid yourself with a minor incantation." Lily suggested.

"Well, that would be a fairly trivial reason to use one. But if you insist, I could give it a try."

"I insist." Lily said, lightly biting Virginia's bottom lip and gently grazing two fingertips into the wet crevasse of the paladin's sex, gathering up the nectar in an achingly slow, sweeping motion.

"Well, then it's settled." Virginia sighed, revelling in the exquisite friction of the contact of Lily's fingers with her sex.

"I hope no-one will vex me while you are gone." The dark elf maliciously lifted the moistened fingers from Virginia's sex and brought them to her lips, lapping the moisture off in long, sensual licks.

"No, I have arranged for Shesayne to show you around Sigil a little, just so you can get your bearings." The blonde paladin felt increasingly inclined to spend the day in bed ravishing Lily as if there were no tomorrow; the dark elf was almost unbearably seductive.

"Shesayne; the halfbreed you mean." Lily said contemptuously.

"Be nice. I'm sure you will both enjoy the time together, you are settling in with her at work, right?"

"Yes, I suppose it could be bearable."

"Buy yourself something nice to wear too, you are still a little short on clothes," Virginia said, before adding a salacious smile, "but you did look incredibly arousing that night at Elyszara's party."

"As I said, we drow have unique artistic sense." Lily said, leaning closer to Virginia as the paladin's hands ran down the full swell of her breasts; she could never have imagined that an elf could have such magnificently bountiful yet harmonious curves.

"That's reassuring, but now, I really must dress, do you want me to become squad leader or not?" The paladin teased.

**************

"Shesayne? Am I disturbing you?" Aerylle asked softly as she peered into the common/locker room the half-elf shared with Min and Lily at the retrievals agency. Shesayne was curled up on the divan, trying to regain some sleep after her early awakening by Marséna and was trying compress as much rest as possible into her lunch break.

"No..." The half-elf lied, as she stirred groggily on the battered old divan, absentmindedly adjusting the dragon-turtle comb she used to keep her midnight-black hair in order. Although the room was tiny, little more than a cubicle, it at least offered a semblance of silence.

"May I come in?" The elven librarian had taken a couple of hours off just to attend to this matter, for Shesayne's predicament had been haunting her ever since Min hinted at their shared past the previous day at Elyszara's.

"Yeah, sure, sure, dear Aerylle," the half-elf made an effort to rouse herself as she sat up on the divan, "come here, take a seat, make yourself at home and comfortable."

Aerylle complied, carefully predisposing the folds of her plain, long librarian's tunic before sitting down so they did not crease before sitting down at Shesayne's side, "I apologise if I woke you up."

"No need to worry, Marséna's lucky I'm not Min or she'd have her throat cut by now, I'm not the type to get violent, angry and irritated when I'm woken up...so what can I help you with, or, if you're just lonely, I'm alone here too so if you want to talk, that's fine as well."

"Slower." Aerylle chided gently, Shesayne's hyperactivity did not quite fit the tone she wanted to set for their conversation.

"Oh, but you understand me fully and a hundred percent, right?" Shesayne said cocking her head curiously to one side, Aerylle seemed somewhat troubled.

"Of course, dear."

"Good, sometimes I get frustrated when people don't understand me, y'know, what I'm really saying and not just what they think I'm saying. But if Min likes you, I know I can trust you to understand me." Shesayne said enthusiastically - she did genuinely believe that Min was an excellent judge of character, the tiefling had always possessed the right, cynical counterpoint to her own boundless optimism.

"Recently there has been something on my mind," Aerylle began, "Min told me a little of your time together, when you still lived with your mother."

"Hmm, yes?" Shesayne said, stretching back onto a side arm of the divan and extending her lightly tanned, slender legs over Aerylle's lap, "You don't mind, do you, 'cause if you do, I won't be offended."

"Of course I don't mind." Aerylle reassured. As if to emphasise her statement, she began to lightly stroke the half-elven girl's exposed thigh with the softest brushes of her fingertips.

Shesayne reclined further back, surrendering herself to the soothing, comforting sensation of Aerylle's touch, "Feels nice...so what was it you wanted to know, the thieving, the setups, life on the cold, hard streets of Sigil?"

Aerylle steeled herself. There was no point in being excessively elusive. Indeed, she felt she could be honest with Shesayne; the half-elf seemed to be secure enough and certainly not too sensitive about the issue anymore. Nevertheless, caution dictated that the elven librarian proceed with tact lest she touch any raw nerves, "I thought I needed to speak about your mother, Shesayne."

"Oh?"

"Min told me she caused you much suffering and for this, I feel in part responsible. Her people are my people and I wanted to say that whatever her opinion was of you, it does not reflect the opinion of our race as a whole. I, for one, admire you greatly and am ashamed that one of my fellow elves could have treated you in such a way."

Shesayne smiled wryly to herself, "It's all to easy, easy for you to say that. Don't worry, I know you're trying to be nice, but you are nice, so you don't have to make the extra effort. Truth is, that's one way to look at it, the way you've just described it, I mean, to say it was all my mother's fault and that's the end. The part that really fucking got to me, Aerylle, is that every single elf I met before meeting you treated me like something less worthy, less beautiful, less elven. So, y'know, when you're a child it all goes as it does and it's just like being teased, But when you start growing up a little, those words just get harder and then they just form this barrier, this wall between you and everyone else you thought was like you."

"I am sorry, I should not have made such a sweeping statement." Aerylle reflected that Shesayne must have lived a double uprooting, the first, like many other elves in Sigil, for whatever reason, from her ancestral homeland, from the woods, mountains and streams their culture held dear; the second, from her own people. There had been, to her knowledge, no half-elves in Imej, her home city, but the plight of such individuals was known, but treated with almost mythological distance, like the human myth of changeling children.

"Nah, you're right too, it was my mother's fault in the first place, she shouldn't have fucked a human, end of story. Come to think of it, she shouldn't have treated me like any other elven daughter to start off with; bring me up in Sigil in a neighbourhood where everyone thinks you're a whore 'cause your mother's a whore for having been around humans and expect me to be a perfect little elven maiden? She really does live on another world."

"Are you certain you are comfortable telling me this?"

"Yeah, 'course. As I said, I know you understand me. But don't get me wrong, it wasn't like I was starving or dying at the side of the road or anything. My mother made, and as far as I know still makes embroidered fabrics in the Moon Elf style of her home-world. Not many people like that left in the Multiverse, so she always made just enough jink. I never really went hungry and we got our own home - two rooms and a tiny kitchen with a charcoal stove. But it was sad and lonely and depressing until I found Min and we've never been apart since."

Aerylle was pleased that Shesayne had seen fit to confide in her. It was rare for the half-elven girl to reveal more than incidental facets of her true self. Upon reflection, though, this was not necessarily her true self so much as a narrative of a past which was much part of Shesayne as it was part of Min. Aerylle knew that if she wanted to know Min better, to understand the root of the complex (or was it painfully simple?) relationship the tiefling had with Shesayne, then she would need to start from some sort of historical foundation. No doubt, that was her librarian's mind speaking to her, but it was, the elven woman concluded, comforting to note that her professional training had at least some relevance to real life as opposed to the vicarious life provided by books.

"And what of Min?" Aerylle finally asked.

"Dunno how to answer that one. It's a bit like asking 'what about Shesayne'; we just became a part of each other...it drove my mother crazy, mad and hysterical because she always used to catch us kissing on the stairs in front of our apartment and she was still all worried about what everyone else would think that her daughter was sleeping with a tiefling. She never sodding realised that it was the Hive and that it was Sigil."

"So what happened?"

"How d'you mean?"

"Why are you and Min not a couple?"

Shesayne paused, her eyes raised contemplatively to the ceiling as she crossed her arms over her chest, "We never were the way you understand it, I guess. Min was always lucky with the girls and I never minded, not for one instant, 'cause out of all of them, I was the only one she never grew bored of fucking...and every time, every single nightfall, she'd come back to bed with me. Even it was near daybreak and I was already half-awake, she'd come back from her latest fling and get under the covers and hold me in a way I knew she never held anyone else...but don't you dare tell her I told you that last part."

Aerylle swallowed, this news of Min's philandering did not bode well, "And now?" She asked faintly.

"Now...ah, now, now Aerylle, now you should stop worrying. She knows what you think, so she hasn't had anyone else since she met you, I swear, not even me. I guess she's found something in you that makes her stick. Lucky you should have found it, there are dozens, maybe scores of girls in Sigil who'd kill for that same thing. And in case you're wondering, 'cause you're too polite to ask, but deep down I know you're thinking about it, I don't think you've taken Min away from me. If anything's the case, you're going to become part of me and I think that's wonderful." Shesayne was sincere, she had gained such utter confidence in her relationship with Min that she knew she could not demand for it to be exclusive. She was certain - and it was one of the few certitudes the half-elf had - that nothing in the Multiverse could drive a wedge between Min and her.

"I must confess that I appreciate what you just said very much." Aerylle said, still somewhat surprised that Shesayne should feel no ill will towards her despite her treatment at the hands of full-blooded elves.

"Oh...well, it's just the truth and that's free between you and me, so don't worry about it. But don't think that's a invitation for some sort of three-ways thing with Min and me, 'cause it isn't, unless, of course, you want to, and that's alright too, if you're into that..."

"No, I think everything is fine and improving daily as it stands." Aerylle said quickly, hoping not to give out the wrong impression, "I must thank you, Shesayne, for having been so honest with me and I look forward to knowing you better."

"Look forward? Where's the fun in that? No time like the present, so what do you say you buy me lunch and we talk some more?" Shesayne suggested enthusiastically pouncing with almost blinding speed to a sitting position and straddling Aerylle's lap, hands on the elven librarian's shoulders.

"That could be arranged..." Aerylle's voice trailed off as she was presented with the full view of Shesayne's pert breasts, barely concealed under a dragon-red bandeau, the peaks of the half-elf's nipples were evident through the thin fabric.

"C'mon, Aerylle, more life!" Shesayne enjoined as she swayed her hips - covered only by the most succinct skin-tight stretch of crimson fabric - in the elven woman's lap, moving in synchronism with a soundless rhythm.

Aerylle swallowed softly, both nervous and embarrassed. It was quite normal for elven women in her culture to exhibit physical displays of affection - in private, of course -, but Shesayne was a tad direct for her standards, "Sorry, I am not quite certain what to..."

"Oh you'll figure it all out and learn it in time," Shesayne said, her impish was wickedly suggestive, "So, what are we waiting for? I'm starving." The half-elf dismounted with lightning-like poise so that even Aerylle was impressed with the speed of her movements.

"So where to," Aerylle said and paused, more familiar words sliding with relief from her lips, "Elah ai li?"

Shesayne's impish grin turned softly ironic, as she unexpectedly took Aerylle's hand into her own, "Y'know, it's funny, I want to speak Elven for the first time in ages, in so long I can't remember, but I can't understand you."

"Apologies, I should have remembered, your mother was Moon Elf," as a librarian and a stickler for precision, she was decidedly irritated that she had let that detail slip, but then something else entirely dawned on her, "Shesayne...that would be the name your mother gave you, right?"

"Who else? The rest is a long story of woe and drama with yours truly as the heroine and I'll tell you all about it over lunch."

"In our language, your name would be Sehaine, after the Mother Goddess."

Shesayne paused and looked directly into Aerylle's eyes with a sort of curious intensity, "You're the first person besides my mother to tell me that."

"All elven languages have the same distant root. You bear an important name, and carry it well."

Shesayne nodded, more moved than she dared to make evident, "Can I ask you something, Aerylle, I mean something that's kind of strange, but really important to me?"

"Of course, dear."

"D'you, as an elf I mean, think I'm pretty?" Shesayne almost blurted the words out; she had never remembered blushing so evidently in her life.

"I think you are as lovely as a flower in Hanali's garden." Aerylle said, alluding to the elven goddess of love and beauty.

"Honest?" Shesayne said excitedly, squeezing Aerylle's hand.

"You have my word." That much was true, Shesayne may have been a little forward in terms of dress, but she was striking, with an impeccable, wirily energetic figure. Naturally, there was also a deeper point to the half-elf question and one which Aerylle had deduced immediately. Shesayne had spent her life being looked down upon by other elves, unloved and criticised because her breasts were slightly larger or her skin but a shade darker. Aerylle knew that the sad truth was that her aesthetic appreciation of Shesayne was hers and hers alone. There were countless less open minded elves she knew - who would never leave the golden-spired city of Imej anyway - whose assessments of Shesayne would have been far more damning even that those of the half-elf's childhood tormentors.

"That's wonderfully fantastic to hear!" Shesayne said hyperbolically after a few moments silence, she had already known Aerylle to be sincere even before asking for confirmation, "Now let's hurry before the queues build up...say, did I ever tell you 'bout the time Min was just about to fuck a succubus and I had to step in to save her?"

"There is the term 'make love', you know." Aerylle reprimanded gently as they moved out into the chaotic, bustling streets of Sigil.

"Yeah, but in this case, I promise and guarantee you that 'fuck' is the right word."

Aerylle sighed, albeit happily, to herself: lunch would not doubt be very interesting indeed.

*************

"Welcome home, Isolde." Lirai said amiably, "Would you like me to melt a glucose tablet for you?" The light-blue skinned air genasi - descendant of the union between a sylph and a mortal - had just finished folding the most recent batch of Isolde's laundry. Since Isolde insisted that every change of clothes had to be washed after a single day's usage, Lirai had taken the time and effort to learn specialised enchantments from the library specifically to attend to the human's needs.

"Yes, I feel faint. Shuffling back to Dassau every three strikes of the Bell Tower is a chore, to put it mildly, especially when I have more important business to deal with." Isolde said dispassionately. She removed her boots and Civic Security bureau uniform and folded them with punctilious precision into the washing basket. The room was hers, though Lirai often came earlier to do some of the cleaning and the laundry. Isolde may not have been overly fond of her work at Civic Security, but Dassau often kept her for - unpaid - hours of overtime, often to discuss his newest oenological discoveries.

"I shall just be a moment, then, you can go wash in the meanwhile." Lirai invited, knowing better than to expect an emotional response from Isolde. The genasi flicked back a strand of her deep sky-blue hair from her face to better concentrate on itemising the laundry. Isolde may have been a little excessive in some respects, but Lirai was herself meticulous in the extreme, something which lent itself well to library work. Aside from Aerylle and Isolde she had no significant friends, only a few acquaintances and endless mounds of books in the library - those were her most numerous and perhaps most loyal companions.

"Prepare a saline with one-thousandth a part of antiseptic while you are at it." Isolde ordered as she withdrew into the tiny bathing cubicle behind a wooden screen and tested the water in the sterilising tub for temperature. Almost self-consciously, she sneaked a glance of herself in the small mirror hanging by the side wall of the cubicle. Isolde did not suppose herself to be unattractive, as such things went: a harmoniously thin frame, small, pert breasts (who would want them any larger, she thought), and wheat-blonde, hair cut above the shoulder, so homogenous in its colouration that it looked like something out of a stylised painting. What Isolde never realised was the hunger in her azure-eyed gaze; not just the physical hunger of rarely, if ever, consuming solid food, but a burning, inward resentment towards virtually every sentient being in Sigil.

Lirai appeared behind the cubicle with the saline solution, as ordered. The genasi was something of a relief to Isolde's weary mind, even though she wore an unnecessarily extravagant dark blue evening robe, like the sky at twilight. But then again, to Isolde, colour in itself was extravagant.

"Would you like me to help you with the saline?" Lirai inquired solicitously.

"No, I will attend to it by myself, pass the sponge." Isolde ordered. Lirai complied and the human woman soaked the light-brown sponge thoroughly in the proffered basin of saline solution before stepping into the antiseptic tub and beginning to scrub her sex in a fastidious, almost irritated motion. It was imperative that she clean every single, last imaginable trace of blood and residual tissue. The very thought of even a particle clinging to her was utterly revolting.

Lirai watched intently, leaning her soft, slender frame against the wooden screen of the cubicle. Isolde continued her work wordlessly.

"So, how is this special task of yours proceeding?" Lirai inquired.

"Although I am not at liberty to disclose the full details, suffice it to say that I am investigating an organisation I suspect of being responsible for the illegal movement of a drow, vulgarly known as dark elf, into Sigil with a subversive objective."

"I thought Sigil had an open immigration policy."

"It does, but not to seditious, rebellious or criminal ends." The city, Isolde thought, was filled with such garbage that she sympathised with revolutionary movements who wished to cleanse it with fire, as the Anarchists did, or by divine light, as some of the more demagogic religious factions maintained. The first head to roll, of course, insofar as Isolde was concerned, after Virginia's, was Dassau's. Her Director's vile, black-and-tan, long-muzzled, pointed eared, canine head lifeless on the floor; that was her dream.

"And you are certain that this organisations of yours is seditious?"

"It could be interpreted as such." Isolde said as she began to rinse her hair with a separate, antiseptic shampoo - most of her modest salary went into detergent products, but it was worth it. To live in filth was to not live at all.

"So why do you? I mean, interpret it as criminal? Does Dassau perhaps have grudge, do you?"

"Why the questions." Isolde asked dryly.

"I would like it if you felt free to speak more openly of your work."

"I think I have spoken more to you than to any other living being." With the unfortunate exception, Isolde surmised, of Dassau, but even she, in her general indifference to the emotions of others, felt that such a comment would have been out of place in Lirai's presence.

"So make me understand your reasons."

"Mine are the reasons of the Civic Security department. We both seek to rectify wrongs inflicted on others."

"You mean a wrong inflicted on you?" Lirai probed.

Isolde scowled, she was not accustomed to such invasive, or prolonged, conversation with Lirai, "Also." She said succinctly.

"When?"

"In a time I do not care to discuss, neither with you nor with anyone else." Isolde snapped as she fastidiously scrubbed under her nails with a fine-bristled brush.

"I apologise." Lirai said softly, lowering her gaze.

"Just refrain from mentioning it."

"Anyway, I thought your duties as a secretary were mainly clerical in nature." Lirai commented, swiftly changing the subject. Isolde frightened many; she had this menacing, almost emotionless presence which generated immediate unease wherever she passed. The air genasi was, however, convinced that Isolde had her better side - granted, she did not show it often, but she felt something bordering on genuine affection for her nonetheless.

"Yes, but the old dog has seen fit to employ me in one of his rambling plots. I sometimes wonder why he claims he is a reformed demon. There is very little indeed which seems reformed about him. Dry me off." Isolde said, rising from the bath, the water dripping off her pristine, utterly unblemished and meticulously clean white skin. Lirai noted with concern that she looked too thin to be healthy.

"You ought to eat something, Isolde, it need not be much, but please, have a little..."

"No, perhaps tomorrow." Isolde interrupted as Lirai sighed in resignation and began to dry the human's shoulders and neck off with a newly washed and ironed bathing shawl.

Lirai's touch was comforting to Isolde; it was gentle, almost like a spring breeze and reassuringly feminine, complemented by the genasi girl's naturally soft, flowery scent. It was so far from the vile odour of alcohol, dust, paper, ink and leather in Dassau's study as to feel like another world. Isolde, for once, allowed herself to relax as the cloth of the shawl travelled lower to clean off her flat, almost concave, abdomen and the virtually imperceptible swell of her hips.

"Have you cleaned yourself yet?" Isolde asked suddenly.

Lirai nodded enthusiastically as she finished her work with loving dedication, "I prepared everything as you like it...for when you are ready."

"Good." Isolde said curtly, walking naked into the bedroom, which, aside from a tiny kitchen corner was the only room of her lodgings and quickly consuming her glass of dissolved glucose. It tasted vile - everything did except for the vaguely chemical flavour of her tooth-cleaning powder, which she relished, "I am ready."

Lirai took the cue and pulled off her blue evening gown and folded it with obsessive precision before placing it on a stool by the side of the bed. The lights of Sigil by nightfall were brilliant through the small, but immaculately transparent window by the side of the bed. The genasi's form pleased Isolde inasmuch as anything could please the secretary; the curves were soft, but suitably slim and linear to betray a good part of the girl's sylph heritage, the skin was tinged with a faint blue, but her shoulder length hair and indigo eyes gave immediate indication of her elemental affiliation.

"Would you have me kneeling or take me face to face?" Lirai inquired, only the slightest hint of desire creeping into her voice.

"Kneel and prop yourself up with some pillows." Isolde replied coolly as she observed Lirai comply. The air genasi carefully stacked two pillows and lay forward against them so they supported her abdomen, presenting her bottom and sex to Isolde. She then spread her thighs slightly in invitation, her hard, deep blue nipples already pressing achingly into the starchy fabric of the sheets.

"I have already prepared myself for your touch, please take me." Lirai said, her voice cloyed by the intense arousal of her submission to the human girl's whim.

Isolde wordlessly climbed onto the bed behind Lirai and traced the curve of the girl's bottom, the soft, pliable skin of her slender thigh, before running back into the warm valley of her bottom; she noted with pleasure that the genasi had already thoroughly lubricated herself there. Lirai could not help but squirm slightly, all she could see were the white sheets beneath her eyes and feel the unpredictable touch of Isolde's firm, precise fingers as they began to slide provocatively between the light, dawn-purple lips of her sex. Isolde increased her tempo, her fingers sliding against the genasi's velvety inner lips in slow, hard thrusts, before suddenly arching upwards to penetrate the depths of her sex with three digits, held rigid and firm so that they forced the swollen flesh apart, eliciting a quiet gasp from Lirai. She knew enough to keep quiet; Isolde was not fond of noisy or 'theatrical', as she put it, copulation.

The blonde human felt her own heartbeat quicken as she mastered Lirai's passion with practiced ease. It was her prerogative give and withhold pleasure as she chose, so that her fingers would withdraw and continue to explore the mounds and curves of the genasi's body or return with renewed vigour, even violence, to plumbing the silky-wet secrets of her sex. Isolde always ensured that Lirai cleaned herself appropriately before copulation; although the natural fragrance of the genasi's arousal was light and airy, like something out of an apple orchard in early spring, the secretary found that the more muted the aroma of excitement, the better.

As she felt the crescendo of Isolde's merciless provocation grow, Lirai began to thrust her hips back against the invading fingers, inviting the climax she knew Isolde could set off in a few moments, such was the peak of her mounting pleasure. It seemed divine to give herself to the stern, unyielding ministrations of Isolde's firm hand - finally, order in the relentless, wicked chaos of Sigil, order at the tip of maddeningly hungry, invasive fingers. Isolde, however, knew that this was her opportunity to take her time.

"Spread for me." Isolde ordered.

Lirai complied immediately, biting her bottom lip in anticipation as she thrust her torso further down against the bed to raise her bottom higher and sensually eased the cheeks of her buttocks apart to reveal the tight bud of her anus, pouting like a spring violet. Isolde's two penetrating fingers passed effortlessly in, tugging apart the pliant muscle of the nether portal to plumb the moist depths within. The genasi had lubricated herself well in preparation and Isolde felt the stress and the frustration of the day melt away as she was finally back in control of something important: she decided where, what and when to touch - her room was the little Multiverse no disorder, no arbitrary madness and no lecturing, Dobermann-headed demon from depths of Gehenna would be able to send into disarray.

"Isolde, may I?" Lirai asked desperately, jerking Isolde from her self-satisfied reverie. The blonde girl had been plunging four fingers in steady rhythm into both the genasi's sex and bottom for an agonising, even by Isolde's standards, length of time. Each time the digits met each other, separated only by a thin membrane of flesh and skin, Lirai felt like screaming in agonised ecstasy. Trembling, aroused beyond belief, and sweating with desire, Lirai only wanted her climax, she could think of nothing else but the dull, throbbing sensation of pleasure in her sex which only needed its last spark for fulfilment. Isolde, however, enjoyed the sensation of imposing herself on the instinctive, pained contractions of her lover's sex and bottom; she was the mistress and Lirai's flesh had to submit and mould itself to her desires, to accept to be filled with her authority.

The air genasi was bucking almost spasmodically against Isolde's fingers, her desperation evident in the suppressed cries of frustrated pleasure that were building up in her throat, only to be suffocated by the stiff, white linen of the bed sheets. Almost reluctantly, Isolde complied with Lirai's request for release, the thumb of the hand servicing the genasi's sex began to press down hard on the painfully engorged bud of her clitoris. The effect was immediate, Lirai came spasmodically, in deep, repressed, suffocated gasps as she bit down on the sheets of the bed, her orifices contracting wildly against Isolde's fingers. Finally, after ensuring that the waves of the genasi's peak had subsided into a series of more regular, ragged breaths, Isolde withdrew her fingers in one, harsh tug. Lirai whimpered in response.

"Stay exactly as you are." Isolde ordered as she began to frantically pleasure herself whilst taking in the full view of the delicious curve of Lirai's bottom, the gaping lips of her sex and the slightly distended violet bud of her anus. The secretary's hands moved hard and fast, one focusing two fingers on her stiff little clitoris, whilst the other gripped Lirai's bottom for support so tightly that the slender genasi girl felt her lover's nails dig hard against her lust-inflamed skin. Isolde's sex was still sensitive from the vigorous scrubbing she had given it in the bath, so when she came, it was mixture of white-hot, electric pleasure coursing through her spine and of sticky, itching pain as she thrust her fingers against her soaking inner lips. There was pleasure to be had in the sharp, irritating feeling emanating from her convulsing sex - like a paper cut, only better.

Isolde allowed herself a moment of emotional exposure, as she felt more energised by her climax than after the consumption of any quantity of glucose. She slumped forward, taking Lirai's hand into her own as she placed firm, needy kisses on the genasi's arched back, settling atop her lover. Lirai sighed in contentment, still holding her position, waiting for Isolde to take her pleasure.

"I enjoyed that, as always." Lirai said quietly, holding Isolde's hand tight in her own.

"Help me change the sheets." Isolde ordered, her breath still short. There was no way to enjoy intimacy when even an errant drop of sweat or moisture from an aroused sex had been allowed to soil the sheets of the bed. Lirai eagerly and obediently complied.

************

In order to reward Elyszara for having been so forthright in apologising to Friyya, Cirily had prepared her beloved's favourite dish which had involved a half day's work and the meticulous placement of layer after layer of syrups, preserves and creams, all held together in a great crystal bowl. Although Cirily had counted on eight servings when producing recipe, Elyszara had managed to demolish over three quarters of it in such a short lapse of time that Cirily had been forced to intervene and return the depressingly light bowl to the kitchen. Even if she could not cure her sugar addiction - nor any of her other addictions, now that Cirily though of it -, she was at least proud that Elyszara seemed on her way to becoming a companion who would be envied throughout the Upper Planes.

That would take time, but Cirily had it all planned out from a few days after she had met her lover. Perhaps it was because her meeting with Elyszara had coincided with the full blooming of her adolescent impulses, but there was no denying that they would grow as a couple, continue to undertake much of Nerissa's public relations work and eventually start a happy, respectable family together. That much, Cirily had decided, was final and non-negotiable. Of course, 'respectable' by Arborean standards was relative and Elyszara would be free and encouraged to be a gracious and generous lover to all who caught her eye...as long as they realised that they were but tiny comets wheeling around the mighty cosmic union of...

"Cirily!" Elyszara called abruptly, interrupting the red-headed aasimar's daydream.

"Yes, sweetest." Cirily made sure she stowed away the crystal bowl in a location so remote in the wide, rectangular kitchen, that Elyszara would never bother to look for it. Then perhaps its creator would then be in a position to enjoy a spoonful or two.

"Can you come into the dining room a moment?"

"Coming, sweetest." Cirily said, taking her time to ensure that everything was in order in the kitchen before sauntering at a leisurely pace into the empty dining chamber.

"I just wanted your opinion." Elyszara said, turning around slowly so Cirily could inspect her. She was wearing her shimmering light violet gossamer gown with minuscule and weightless flecks of diamant worked into the fabric, to give the whole a light, glimmering quality, like dew at dawn. It was also one of Elyszara's stylistic favourites, with a slit in the knee-length skirt reaching to the waist and ample open space on the chest. Cirily also noted that Elyszara had varied her colour scheme somewhat to conform to the exigencies of the dress, painting her lips and nails dark blue bordering on violet and having applied a deep, cerulean shade of powder on her eyelids.

"It's sublime, but just about anything is on you, my real question is, however, where are you going tonight?" Cirily inquired accusingly.

"A nice date, I hope." Elyszara replied airily, taking a brief look in her handheld mirror to ensure that her midnight-black hair, tinged with iridescent strands of silver and dark blue, fell in an appropriately spontaneous, yet organic order.

"There is such a thing as too soon, Lys." Cirily reprimanded. What she found doubly irritating that she had never quite managed to wean Elyszara from her dark colour scheme. Having said that, the dark-haired aasimar had always defended herself by claiming that it complemented the natural paleness of her skin and the chromatic depth of her eyes and hair.

"But I'm telling you this time." Elyszara protested.

"And who, may I ask, is she?"

"Don't know, just met her the other day."

"That's why I love you, Lys," Cirily said, relenting a little and approaching Elyszara to plant a gentle kiss on her lips, "you never change."

"Oh, come on, don't tell me you're jealous."

"No, actually, thanks for telling me, though it isn't nice to leave here all alone tonight."

"You can go out...take a walk, take some fresh air..."

"We just came from Arborea and you're telling me to find fresh air in Sigil?" Cirily's laugh was soft and melodious.

"You know what I mean. Then some other time I promise we'll go out somewhere, do something special just for you." Elyszara said, taking Cirily into her arms. The flame-haired aasimar detected a rich, youthful, floral scent - a perfume her keen, accurate senses immediately identified as a Bytopian blend from Elyszara's extensive selection.

"Well, I suppose I can take that as a guarantee. But are you sure you should be leaving this early?"

"Yeah, that was the problem when I said I met her the other day. I never actually formally asked her out, so I'll probably have to compress two things into one."

Cirily never ceased to be amazed, and amused, by her lover's self-confidence. What if she was turned down, unlikely as that was, "Well, make sure you don't frighten her, not everybody has our approach to romancing, understood?"

"Has anyone ever complained?" Elyszara said in a half-exasperated tone. Cirily was becoming something of a surrogate for Nerissa which, regrettably, had almost certainly been part of her mother's plan in the first place.

"No, but behave yourself and make sure you're back at a decent hour tomorrow, I need your help at the Bazaar again."

Elyszara groaned with feigned irritation and kissed Cirily once more on the lips, this time more passionately, "See you tomorrow, my treasure."

"Keep saying it and one day it won't happen." Cirily replied, amiably enough. It was good to see Elyszara back to her routine of spur-of-the moment one night stands since Cirily was keen to avoid any repetition of the long-term, secret and morbid relationships her lover had entertained with Syf. Nevertheless, Sigil seemed to scramble everyone's minds. Although she occasionally sympathised with Elyszara's insecurities since their status as halfbreeds was comparable - even in the highly tolerant societies of Arborea - she was always under the impression that things were safer and more predictable on their home Plane.

As soon as she was certain Elyszara had left, Cirily returned to her duties. Perhaps she would cook; she found that particular activity therapeutic and, at the rate Elyszara consumed sweetmeats, she thought it appropriate to make another selection in time for next daybreak. Cooking also gave her time to think and to ponder the 'how' and 'why' of her bond with her beloved. The answers to those questions, Cirily was certain, lay in the past, beginning from that first fateful day in the garden when she had met Elyszara for the first time. It had all sprung from there.

***********

"Lys, maybe we shouldn't be here." Cirily warned as they headed deeper into the ruined tower. The reddish light of the Dawnlands reflected warmly off the dew-covered stones and the dark patches of moss which dotted the roofless, stone building. Despite its appearance, the tower had not be ruined by war or the ravages of time, but purposefully constructed by some whimsical divinity to give the impression of antiquity to her realm. Similar ruins dotted the rolling, grassy landscape as far as the eyes could see, all under the radiance of perpetual dawn.

"Probably not, but it beats being at home. At least here I have my dignity and we have some privacy." Elyszara said between gritted teeth. She found a suitably stable floor near the top of the tower and sat down wearily, leaning against a wall, the moss and stone cool on her bare arms and thighs, her loose but flattering black tunic moist with the air's humidity. It had been quite a trek from her mother's demesne, but Elyszara was pleased to have some time without undue intrusion or interference.

"Are you sure about this, what's wrong with the garden?" Cirily inquired, somewhat worried, carefully taking a seat on a flat rock by Elyszara's side. Some time had passed, perhaps a year in the reckoning of some mortal worlds though it was difficult to keep track in Arborea, since she had met Elyszara and the more time progressed, the more her friend's antics troubled her. At first, she had been sullen, rude and temperamental - now she was positively verging on the self destructive.

"At least here we won't have unwelcome intrusions." Elyszara snapped, "Did you bring the feywine?"

"Yes, but your mother is going to know you took it from the kitchen, as she always does and then we'll be in trouble again." Both the 'we' and the 'trouble' part of Cirily's sentence were inaccurate. Nerissa had taken a profoundly sympathetic liking to the demure, obedient and artistic Cirily in contrast to her burgeoning irritation at Elyszara's behaviour. Cirily knew full well that Elyszara had decided to exile herself from her mother's demesne over some recent unpleasantness regarding Elyszara's vices. Nerissa had personally undertaken a surprise inspection of Elyszara's room and come up with such a quantity of Dreamsmoke and Astral Pollen that she had given her daughter a thrashing that made Cirily, petrified as she watched, seriously fear for her friend's wellbeing.

"Fuck it." Elyszara snarled and Cirily winced at the vulgarity.

"You know, your mother never had a problem with the Paradise Moss, because at least that's from around here, but if you insist on getting Dreamsmoke from the Abyss, then you're asking for it."

"The Lower Planes are more fun." Elyszara replied, without knowing what she was talking about. Deciding that she was already bored, the dark-haired aasimar quickly seized Cirily's hair and shoulders in her hands to draw her into a fierce, needy kiss. Her tongue quickly found Cirily's, a curious hand moving down from her friend's hair - iridescent with many shades of flame-red - under her gossamer, bronze-coloured skirt to cup the round swell of her firm, youthful bottom.

"You could be more romantic about this, you know." Cirily said quietly as Elyszara's lips, painted a rich magenta purple, trailed down her throat, kissing the pale skin tinged with the warm, reddish glow of brass that betrayed her celestial eladrin ancestry, "Like you are to all the others, but since you already know you have me...I suppose I can be taken for granted."

Elyszara ignored Cirily's comment and rapidly unbuttoned her friend's blouse. Cirily's breasts, Elyszara noted with pleasure, were developing nicely, firm yet larger than her own. For herself, though, Elyszara thought as she absentmindedly planted wet little kisses in the valley between Cirily's breasts, she preferred a more elven aesthetic and hoped to preserve as streamlined and slender a figure as possible, in the style of the fae goddesses she had so often seen and lusted after in books. So far, so reasonably good, Elyszara concluded, hiking up Cirily skirt and spreading the flame-haired aasimar's thighs slightly with cool, gentle fingers.

Cirily was nowhere near as aroused as Elyszara thought her to be. In reality, she found these almost mechanical escapades to relieve Elyszara's boredom artless and demeaning. To be sure, they had enjoyed spontaneous, beautiful and increasingly adventurous lovemaking since Cirily had allowed her friend to go beyond kissing her, but there were times in which Elyszara simply did not understand that the build-up to lovemaking was not only physical, but a meeting of minds and souls as well. Now that she felt her companion's lips, warm and infuriatingly expert, planting deep sensual kisses on her sex, Cirily decided that it was time to end that sorry excuse for intimacy.

"Lys, no, not like this." She said firmly , taking the silver streaked midnight-black hair of her lover, so similar to a starry sky in the blackness before dawn, and easing Elyszara's head back a little from between her thighs.

"What? I can't even fucking lick you anymore? What exactly do you want?" Elyszara said with venomous frustration.

"First of all, never use that tone or that language with me again, understood? I may not be as angry and bitter as you are, but I think you that I'm a sensitive person, more than you could imagine, and it hurts me deeply to be treated like this by someone I love."

"You sound like my mother." Elyszara said contemptuously, rising to her feet, "You can finish it yourself, you obviously prefer your own company...boring bitch..."

Cirily's slap hit Elyszara so hard she fell onto the cold, rough-hew stones of the floor. She had not even seen it coming, but it made sense, Cirily too had eladrin ancestry and was faster than Elyszara had assumed.

"Say that, say that just once more." Cirily said, neither sad nor hurt, but furious in a way Elyszara had never seen her. The more the dark-haired aasimar thought about it as she looked up from her supine position, the more she realised that only her own angry mother had terrified her more. Cirily's eyes, normally a charming shade between red and orange were now blazing, quite literally, with glowing rage, and all the normally muted metallic bronzy tinge to her skin had begun to glow in righteous anger.

"S-s-sorry." Elyszara stammered, keeping herself close to the ground, her cheek stung with agonising intensity. The firre, the eladrin caste from which Cirily's mother had been drawn from, was known for both its artistry and its passion, so it was perhaps unsurprising that passion could so easily be translated into, quite literally, burning rage.

"Just give the word and as far as you are concerned, I will drop off the edge of Multiverse. I am most definitely not here to be abused or humiliated by you in such a manner," Cirily's voice, though perfectly musical, was more powerfully authoritative than it had ever been, "I will love you with all my soul as a friend, a sister and a lover, but you will treat me with the respect due to those roles."

"I...understand, really, I'm sorry." Elyszara said, profoundly shaken, "But I need, you, I really do, I needed you from the first day and I need you now more than ever."

"Prove it." Cirily ordered. Her anger subsided somewhat, as her eyes regained their usual kind, introspective edge.

"What?...I mean, could you...uh, maybe be slightly more specific."

"Court me, seduce me...actually read my poetry from time to time and, most importantly, stop acting as if I were just another of those silly forest spirits of yours..."

"Cirily, you know that's just for fun." Elyszara said desperately.

"Of course, though I don't think there's a single dryad, nymph or naiad in the Dawnlands who hasn't gotten to know you quite...thoroughly, be that as it may, I adore making love to you, but it has to mean something."

"It does, sweetest, it does, I promise I'll show myself to be worthy of you." Elyszara whimpered defensively.

"I believe you, and, though you find it hard to say, I also know you love me. So now let's go home and forget about this." That much Cirily knew to be true; Elyszara was terrified of revealing her weaknesses, her vulnerabilities - it was as if she did not want to declare herself dependent on anybody, but stumble through life in a haze of drugs, questionable magic and even more questionable reading, and relentless sensual experimentation. In her own way, Cirily thought wryly, a good little Arborean girl.

"Forgive me?" Elyszara said timidly, rising to her feet.

"Of course, my love, and to prove it to you, I will give you a second chance tonight to show me how bright your passion burns." Cirily said, her tone once again warm and seductive as she took Elyszara's hand into her own to lead her out of the ruined tower.

"Maybe I could button your blouse back up..." Elyszara said, trying to atone for her hasty intemperance.

"Well, something tells me that I'll have to unbutton it again soon enough, so why bother?" Cirily said with a suggestive grin, bringing her friend's hand to her lips. That had always been Cirily's way: slow to anger and quick to forgive.

**********

Ithunn felt paranoid. Throughout the lesson, she had the creeping suspicion that Friyya was staring at her with incriminating eyes from the teacher's desk at the front of the side chapel which acted as a classroom. When she raised her gaze from her book, however, to confirm whether or not this was the case, the auburn-haired paladin was inevitably doing something entirely more prosaic, like reading over her notes or indicating another novice to continue reading from where the previous one had left off. The sensation, however, never entirely went away so that Ithunn felt an immense wave of relief wash over her as Friyya finally informed the class that it had been dismissed.

That relief turned to black anxiety when she heard a debonair voice call out from the bustle of the departing novices, "Ithunn, could you stay behind, please?"

The novice's blood almost ran cold - so her intuition had been correct, "Yes, Sister." She replied with practiced calm as she carefully made her way to Friyya's desk.

"Your work has improved dramatically and I'm not the first to notice." Friyya said as she began to stack up her books.

"Thank you, sister." In reality the improvement had nothing to do with any increased dedication on Ithunn's part. Spending more time with Inge, who as a priestess in training had an exceptional mind for doctrinal matters, had its advantages.

"So I take it that it's working well between you and Ingeborg."

Ithunn bit her lip so hard she thought it might draw blood. Not only did she consider it unprofessional for Friyya to be her usual gossipy self and take an interest in the private lives of others, but the woman was dangerously perceptive. Either that or Syf had told her.

"Oh, no need to be embarrassed," Friyya said amiably, sensing the novice's discomfort, "she's quite adorable, I am certain you help each other out in so many ways. You remind me of Syf when we were novices, always too busy to do the reading..."

Friyya's voice trailed off in Ithunn's mind. She had the very mild inclination, for she was not a violent person, to wring Friyya's elegant swanlike neck with her own two hands. She may have been a good teacher, but the paladin was also unbelievably intrusive and, all of a sudden, unnervingly interested in her convoluted sentimental life.

"Well, my blessings, then." Friyya concluded as she gave Ithunn an affectionate caress on the cheek and turned to leave.

"Thank you, Sister." Ithunn replied distantly. Had there been an incipient threat in Friyya remarks? Did the paladin know something about Ithunn's obsession with Syf? If so, then there truly had been an underlying current of menace. Ithunn tried desperately to steady her mind - perhaps she truly was being paranoid beyond reason, but those thoughts had been haunting her for some time.

Making sure to leave ample space for Friyya to leave the Temple, Ithunn cautiously poked her head out of the deserted side chapel to see whether the coast was clear.

"Anyone here?" A gentle, playful voice called from what Ithunn presumed was a position around the nave of the Temple. The voice was familiar.

Ithunn shifted uncomfortably, her suspicion was getting the worst of her and there was no dignity in skulking around in the shadows like some sort of assassin, so she emerged, her deportment noble and self-possessed in the manner that had certainly caught they eye of many novices, not to mention, of course Inge. Sidelining that thought which had wormed its way into her head with painful consistency, Ithunn detected the strange elfin woman from the previous day out of the corner of her eye. She was standing by one of the pillars, leaning casually against the cool marble and seemed - for that was the only way Ithunn could describe it - dressed to kill.

"Yes..." Ithunn ventured, approaching the centre of the nave.

"Oh well," Elyszara said with rich satisfaction, "looks like you weren't just misdirecting me when you said I could find you here."

Ithunn had no pre-packaged answer for that particular situation. It had appeared that the aasimar had been flirting with her the other day and, to be sure, Ithunn had been flattered, but when she had said that she could be found in the Temple, she was saying it in a vaguely platitudinous, as opposed to committed, sort of way, "A pleasure to see you again...Elyszara." Ithunn finally said, pleased that she had recalled the name so swiftly.

"Milady knight!" The aasimar said with mock indignation as she stepped forward to stand before Ithunn, "Is that any way to greet me?" Elyszara raised a slender, white hand to accentuate her point.

Ithunn blushed fiercely as she bowed, as gracefully as the circumstances allowed, to kiss the proffered hand, "Apologies, as you can see, I still have much to learn before I can truly call myself a paladin of the Vigilant Maiden."

"Come now, it's my fault, I shouldn't have surprised you here all of a sudden." Since she had made her first inroad, Elyszara could afford to be as magnanimous as possible.

"How may this humble novice be of service, Lady Elyszara?" Ithunn said in her most formal tone.

"Well, I was thinking that I may have the pleasure of your company for dinner this evening."

"L-Lady, Elyszara," Ithunn hesitated, "I am still but a novice, I am not allowed to leave the Temple without dispensation."

"Then we'll keep it our little secret."

Ithunn's mind roiled nervously. Elyszara had thrust her into a tight spot, after all, in the broadest possible terms, telling the aasimar where she could find her was tantamount to an invitation to do so and levity with her word was certainly not one of the vices Ithunn wished to be identified with, "Vice-Commander Isobel takes a headcount before lights out - when we must, we normally...evade afterwards."

"But milady knight," Elyszara protested, affecting disappointment, "I'm here all dressed up for the occasion, for your pleasure. Would you have a lady wait?"

Ithunn's mind went into overdrive. She was not normally the intemperate sort, but Elyszara's beauty was blood-quickening. Just seeing those pale, slender limbs move gracefully under the dark violent of the gown, each movement so perfect, so seductive and so graceful, was enough to send much good judgement fleeing from her mind. It was a very simple thought in reality: skip lights-out and make some half-hearted excuse about being late in the library and falling asleep, hoping that Inge would cover for her. The likelihood of that plan working, though, was minimal. Isobel knew no rhyme or reason when it came to exceptions to the rules. Was a date with Elyszara - and time off from Inge's cloying, syrup-sweet attentions - worth some potentially very unpleasant punishment? Whilst Ithunn was deliberating as quickly as she could, Elyszara crossed her arms impatiently, and shifted her stance so that her shoulder was against the pillar; the slit of the dress fell apart like a curtain to reveal a slender, feminine thigh and just the slightest hint of the flare of the aasimar's bottom.

"Give me a few moments to change." Ithunn said, a knot of tension forming at the base of her throat.

"Sure, I'll wait for you by the exit of the dormitory." Elyszara said, a satisfied smile spreading across her sensual lips.

Ithunn scrambled into the dormitory as fast her legs could take her, thankfully none of her roommates from her cubicle had returned yet. Not wishing to test their timing, the novice hastily changed into her gold-bordered white dress uniform, adjusted her single, intricate braid as best she could and seized some of the perfume she knew her bunkmate, Greta, had illicitly stowed away in her chest of personal effects. Like Syf, Ithunn was not one for cosmetics, jewellery or perfume, but the circumstances appeared to warrant it. Finally, whispering a prayer to the Vigilant Maiden that Isobel would refrain from killing her the following morning, Ithunn made a surreptitious but speedy exit to rejoin Elyszara.

"How distinguished, milady knight." Elyszara said, scanning Ithunn's figure with an expert eye. She had a truly appealing frame, classically beautiful but well tempered and taut from her novice's training. Charming eyes too, green like a leaf in summer and sparkling with youthful eagerness.

"Please, Ithunn will do, I am not a Consecrated paladin yet."

"Ithunn it is, so perhaps you would like to escort me to our destination?" Elyszara invited. Ithunn complied, allowing the shorter girl to take hold of her left arm and lean in on her shoulder. The sight of Elyszara's chromatically nuanced hair, so rich, silky and fragrant with a fresh, airy perfume was more than enough to compel Ithunn to shelve all her misgiving and lead the way out of the Temple compound.

"I have our venue booked for tonight, follow the road north out of the Temple Ward and towards the Clerk's Ward, it should be just on the corner opposite the alchemist's laboratory." Elyszara instructed, pressing her cheek against the novice's shoulder. Ithunn instinctively felt awkward, but at least had the petty satisfaction of noting the occasional glance of admiration as she walked down crowded, cobbled streets. The Temple Ward was much quieter than most of Sigil, even in the early evening when the day began to give way to nightfall. Only a few cadres of priests of the numerous cults represented in Sigil dotted the streets, clad in robes of all description and representing most of the humanoid races of the Multiverse.

As they approached the restaurant in question, a large three-storeyed building with extravagant, stained glass windows, Ithunn became increasingly aware of the fact that she actually had no money. Indeed, the whole excursion had been decided on the spur of the moment, so that now, upon further reflection, the novice tensed at the potential humiliation of not being able to contribute anything to the no doubt extortionate bill. Novices, technically speaking, were not even allowed to possess money of any description, though the rule was laxly enforced.

Elyszara subtly steered Ithunn into the main entrance of the restaurant, grandiloquently named The Surging Phoenix, where a pretty serving maid with golden skin and deep black hair arrived to greet them. The aasimar gave only a confidential nod and before Ithunn new it, they were being led upstairs.

"I know the management." Elyszara said with notable satisfaction as Ithunn barely had a chance to marvel at the opulent ebony-and-mahogany luxury of the main dining area with its distinguished smell of smoke, leather and fine wine. At the periphery of her field of vision, Ithunn caught her first glance of the true array of Sigil's well-heeled demimonde which ranged from the conventional to the truly exotic: a metallic silvery-scaled dragon-like being reviewing its financial portfolio by telekinetically turning the pages, and a tall, thin humanoid with the head of a fierce, black-and-tan dog, dressed in an immaculately tailored black uniform of a military cut, with his muzzle sniffing deep into a long, thin chalice of wine. Ithunn did not even dare estimate how much the place charged.

Rising up a further flight of brilliantly waxed stairs, the serving maid led the couple into a long, red carpeted corridor and from thence into a spacious, well-appointed private dining room. There were no chairs, only a low, mahogany table and a vast array of silk pillows in a number of deep, rich hues placed on an intricately woven, soft carpet. Ithunn felt decidedly uneasy surrounded by such opulence, though Elyszara's presence reassured to an extent; the place would have been far more intimidating had she been alone. The serving maid quickly activated a number of enchanted candles that burnt no wax, filling the room with a soft, wooden-brown glow.

"Be at ease, everything will be taken care of, I have already arranged for our dinner." Elyszara said, pleased at the expression of marvel on Ithunn's face. The serving maid gave a discreet bow and exited, closing the door soundlessly behind her, "Make yourself comfortable and take your boots off." Elyszara suggested. Ithunn complied wordlessly, still feeling as though she were in a dream, and placed her high brown boots carefully a the entrance next to Elyszara's more fashionable low cut black model with high heels. The latter was yet another fashion contrivance that Ithunn simply could not understand.

"Please, Ithunn, sit down and relax." Elyszara said with a reassuring grin; of course, she understood that the novice was somewhat taken aback by her surroundings, but that was no excuse for protracted tension.

Not quite knowing how she was to take her place without chairs, Ithunn carefully slipped into a half-seated kneeling position, leaning back on a luxuriantly soft set of large, embroidered green cushions as she carefully ensured that the skirt of her dress uniform tunic did not crease. It was, after all, a dress uniform precisely because it was meant to be worn with military precision each time. Doing otherwise would have been a disservice to the Order.

Elyszara smiled, more broadly now, as she watched Ithunn take her place. The aasimar then gracefully reclined at the novice's side, leaning her head on the human girl's breasts and shoulders. Ithunn felt her heartbeat quicken slightly, something that Elyszara was quick to detect, and a blush spread across her cheeks. In truth, at least she had an excuse, the room was quite warm by any standards.

"So, what do you think." Elyszara inquired softly as she shifted slightly against Ithunn, as if trying to encourage the novice that she should not shrink from physical contact.

"I can only say it is lovely, though I fear that I may not be the best company for places such as this." The novice replied with some embarrassment. She lived in mortal fear of committing some faux-pas or offending her generous host. She had certainly not envisioned her night out going to such levels of luxury of which she could scarcely have dreamed.

"Allow me to disagree, I think that I should be quite proud of being escorted here by such a valiant and beautiful warrior such as yourself."

"There are so many more who are finer paladins than me." Ithunn said - not least, she concluded ruefully - because they had actually been Consecrated.

"That's not what I heard," Elyszara said, her gaze locked on the pale, slimly muscular thighs beneath her eyes, though the tunic infuriatingly covered their top half, "I heard that you were quite the promising swordswoman and that few are your equal in beauty."

"Then they flatter me." Ithunn said faintly. If this was not a dream, then she had died and ascended into the Seven Heavens.

Elyszara stirred some more against Ithunn.

- At least take me into your arms - she thought, but then again, a novice was a novice, "So, have you ever wondered what I am?" Elyszara said, deciding to break the ice a little and make the conversation more personal.

"Well...yes, I mean no!" Ithunn shuddered, not quite knowing what the polite answer would be, though she had privately wondered about the elfin girl's multichrome hair, strangely entrancing eyes and delicately pointed ears.

"Ithunn...my treasure, relax." Elyszara said, somewhat bemused. She had imagined Ithunn to be more like Virginia when she was a novice; a little naive, perhaps, but certainly sharp enough to catch the signals. Though she was, on all accounts, an excellent fighter, Ithunn appeared to have this endearing innocence when it came to romance, "Allow me to explain, my mother is a celestial being, an eladrin from the Plane of Arborea, though my father - I think - was a mortal."

"Arborea, as in the Vigilant Maiden's domain?" Ithunn asked, all of a sudden excited.

"Yes, naturally, which is why I have become so closely...uh, affiliated with your Temple."

"How wonderful! I bet it is truly magnificent." The novice had been overcome by a sort of child-like joy. Her greatest devotion had always been to the Vigilant Maiden and to meet someone who had actually visited those lands she had only read about in books was a stroke of unbelievable good fortune.

"Well...I suppose you get used to it." Elyszara replied. Her first inclination had been to rattle off some sarcastic remark about the Dawnlands which, though magnificent at first sight, very quickly got boring, especially if one was, ultimately, a mortal. She was, however, reluctant to break Ithunn's illusion.

"Oh, you must tell me more."

"With pleasure, but I believe our food has arrived." Elyszara said, glad that she would at least have some alcohol to be able to better feign a positive assessment of Arborea.

They did, however, talk about it extensively over dinner with Elyszara throwing out a few choice morsels of information and Ithunn then replying with a longer barrage of questions. The food had put the novice in a decidedly upbeat mood, for it was both of a quality and a sophistication she had never before experienced just as the wine, which she had never been accustomed to drinking, was soothing without being overpowering. The banquet carried on apace and, much to Elyszara's relief, Ithunn actually managed to relax enough for the aasimar to rest her head on the novice's lap.

"Ithunn, could you be so kind as to pass me a fruit pastry?" Elyszara said, her voice strategically tinged with sensuality as they began to work their way into the dessert course.

The novice nodded and took one of the light, artistically structured pastries from the silver serving dish and conveyed it to Elyszara's level. The aasimar sighed, almost in desperation, "I can't reach, Ithunn." She said as sweetly as possible.

"Oh...oh, right." Ithunn said, once again unsure exactly how to proceed. The wine, however, had loosened some of her inhibitions of propriety so she decided to take the gamble and gently brought the pastry to Elyszara's violet-painted lips. In two bites, the pastry was gone, which left the aasimar's lips wrapped around Ithunn's index finger, her tongue gently lapping off the icing sugar.

Ithunn's pulse quickened dramatically as she felt a creeping sensation of heat building in her loins, "Is there something else I can get for you, Elyszara?" She asked, her tone a little more daring, now though still a tad nervous.

"No, but I think you must be a little stiff from training today, what would you say if I volunteered to help you loosen up a bit?"

"You need not trouble yourself." Ithunn said softly, though the knot of tension in her throat was growing wider by the second.

"Please, it would be my pleasure." Elyszara insisted, rising to a sitting position and kneeling behind Ithunn. The novice nodded silently in assent and Elyszara's touch came immediately, and with electric sensuality, afterwards. Gently, the aasimar opened the top few golden buttons of Ithunn's tunic to reveal her pale, strong shoulders and the tops of her full, rounded breasts. Elyszara then began to trace her hands down the curve of the novice's neck, her fingers instinctively seeking out the most sensitive points of muscle and tissue and teasing them gently to a state of deeper relaxation with precise, delicate little touches.

Ithunn felt herself float into another world. The effect of the wine had already loosened her significantly, but the action of Elyszara's hands was positively a godsend. Each motion from those long, delicate fingers found yet another tiny knot of muscle and gently coaxed it apart with firm, yet ethereal pressure.

"Doesn't that feel better?" Elyszara inquired seductively, her tone honeyed and soothing.

"Yes..." Ithunn said, almost hissing.

"You have lovely hair...and such an intricate braid."

"It is traditional, the women of my family have always worn it that way, they say it is after the fashion of the Wheat Goddess."

"Wonderful..." Elyszara breathed, planting a soft kiss on Ithunn's light blonde hair. The novice shivered in response.

"Good," the aasimar commented, her voice almost hypnotic, "I feel that you are just about beginning to relax, so if you have finished eating, why don't you like back on the cushions and just take some time to appreciate the calm."

The blonde novice nodded and obeyed, shifting backwards so she could rest stretch her self out in a reclining position against a hillock of cushions so comfortable she thought she could have died there. Elyszara smiled conspiratorially and moved, on her hands and knees to take Ithunn's side, this time raising her slender, pale legs and placing them in the novice's lap. The skirt of the aasimar's violet dress fell back provocatively as Elyszara lifted her legs, now only cloaking the uppermost part of her thighs. By now, Ithunn's pulse was racing both in her chest and in her head. She knew she should not have drunk so much because she felt her skin, not to mention her loins, was on fire.

Deciding to tease a little, Elyszara shifted her legs subtly from side to side, allowing the fabric to fall and gather in translucent, gossamer folds. Ithunn could no longer resist the urge to turn and take a good look at the scene unfolding beneath her. Elyszara took that as her cue as she gracefully raised a pale foot to brush up the fabric of Ithunn's tunic, the tips of her toenails brushing up the valley between the novice's breasts, up the soft skin of her throat, only to pause under her chin. Every limb, Ithunn remarked, of the aasimar was perfectly proportioned and delicate, as if carved out of white porcelain, with the deep violet of the varnish she had applied to her toenails contrasting intriguingly with the moon white paleness of the skin.

As if in a trance, Ithunn decided that it was now or never. She had taken her fill of subtleties and signals, now all she wanted was to partake of this embodiment of beauty and see whether the dream evaporated there and then or whether this was, and she still dared not believe it, reality. Gently clasping Elyszara's delicate foot in her hands, Ithunn planted a soft kiss on the pale skin, before sinking in with a hungry lunge, capturing the aasimar's toes between her lips and passionately lavishing her tongue on each digit.

- Finally! - Elyszara thought, beginning to squirm as she felt the hot moisture of Ithunn's mouth on her foot - Now we're in business. -

Ithunn felt the hot, passion-thick blood in her veins flood her very being, tearing away each last facade of self control and sending her lunging on Elyszara. She pinned the aasimar against the pillows and under her weight, her limbs strong and supple from entire days dedicated to perfecting her bladecraft, and began to kiss Elyszara passionately but clumsily, her tongue eager but inexpert. Sliding a curious, almost trembling hand down Elyszara's slim thigh, Ithunn scrambled to find the moist juncture between the elfin girl's legs.

"Wait, wait, sorry...Ithunn, treasure, stop a moment." Elyszara said wearily. This was certainly not the way she had envisioned it, to say that Ithunn had decided to jump in the deep end was putting it mildly.

"Oh, Goddess, I am so sorry..." Ithunn apologised desperately as Elyszara's interruption gave her time to take stock of what had been doing, "I am so terribly sorry, I...must be a disgrace, please forgive me I was not thinking..."

"Shhh..." Elyszara comforted, placing two fingers on Ithunn's lips, "Now listen. You didn't do anything wrong, it's just that what you just did would have been fine if you had been playing the conquering heroine taking her deserved spoils of victory. Which is fine and very sensual...if you have a little more experience. For now, let's just say that I'm the princess you rescued from the Great Fire Wyrm."

Ithunn nodded in embarrassed silence, still looking crestfallen into Elyszara's enchanting, blue-violet eyes.

"Right," Elyszara said - it was only fair that she had to give lessons from time to time, Ithunn was, in the end, a sweet girl who, the aasimar felt, deserved every moment of her patience, "since you're my gallant lady knight, it's obvious that you have the privilege of taking me, so you don't have to force yourself on top of me. Especially because your princess is grateful and very much in love with her brave rescuer, so it is only proper that she freely submit to the lady knight's pleasure. But since I am your princess after all, you have the duty to attend to my pleasure first and make sure you take me with the proper delicacy."

"I understand." Ithunn said almost bashfully.

"Good," Elyszara smiled warmly as she wrapped her arms around Ithunn's neck, "now, my fair lady knight, please take your reward."

Smiling gratefully at her second opportunity, Ithunn sank into a softer, less demanding kiss, this time feeling Elyszara reciprocate passionately. Exploring the aasimar's warm mouth was like heaven, the elfin girl's lips so soft against her own yet so rich and satisfying. Elyszara sought to steer the young novice in the right direction, her tongue patiently leading a soft dance, whilst her fingers gently finished unclasping the buckle of the human girl's belt, letting the tunic fall to one side, before helping Ithunn ease it off. The novice blushed again, her eyes wide open when she realised that she was all of a sudden naked and out in the open on top of Elyszara. The sensation was nothing like her clumsy attempts at lovemaking with Inge under the covers.

"What's wrong?" Elyszara asked gently as Ithunn broke the kiss. She did not normally take such a charitable approach to hesitation in the midst of passion, but the novice certainly had her heart in the right place.

"Sorry, sometimes you have something in your mind and then, when you finally get to do it, it never feels quite the same." Ithunn confessed, only to gasp with surprise as she felt Elyszara's hands run up her flanks and cup the full, buoyant firmness of her breasts, the tips of the aasimar's violet-painted fingernails ever so gently teasing the dark pink peaks of her nipples.

"You're such a beautiful girl and there's nothing to be ashamed of. That's why you caught my eye that day. That's why I turned up when you told me where I could find you, because I never forgot how pretty you looked, with your white tunic and perfect braid." Elyszara said - she, of all beings, knew that a little flattery went a long way.

Ithunn could only respond with another kiss, this time more needy, more passionate and, Elyszara was pleased to note, incrementally more skilful. It was only a matter of time before the blonde novice gathered up the courage to try undressing the aasimar again. This time, she proceeded gently, carefully freeing Elyszara's breasts from their gossamer web and trailing hot, enthusiastic kisses down her neck. Although she had her malicious side, especially when it came to sensual matters, Elyszara had no intention of misleading Ithunn, she would be as direct and honest and the best of teachers - the novice would thank her for it in future. So it came as something of a surprise when Elyszara failed to withhold an unforced moan of pleasure as Ithunn's eager, energetic tongue lapped hungrily on the underside of one of the aasimar's beautifully proportioned breasts, pink lips then settling to grasp a stiff, taut nipple.

All too pleased to allow the eager young novice to explore her body, Elyszara contented herself with tenderly stroking Ithunn's hair, her hands moving down to gently cup two ivory cheeks reddened by the warm, pink blush of desire. Ithunn, on the other hand, could only think of how wonderful Elyszara tasted, how delectable each inch of skin was under her lips and how rewarding it was to draw her mouth against those inflamed, pink nipples and savour their pliant stiffness with the accompaniment of low sensual moans. Spurred on by her apparent success, the novice kissed lower, ever so gently raising up the hemline of Elyszara's skirt. The aasimar spread her thighs slightly in invitation.

"May I?" Ithunn said, almost inaudibly with her face poised just above the thin fabric that separated her from Elyszara's sex.

"Ithunn, treasure, when you make love, that's a question you never ask. Remember, you just saved me from the Great Fire Wyrm, I'm happy for you to do whatever you want."

The blonde novice nodded energetically and reverently lifted the fabric, bunching it up around Elyszara's waist. Leaning forward, Ithunn could smell the rich, floral, almost fruity scent of Elyszara's sex which, she was relieved to note, was already wet and in full bloom, the light pink lips covered in dew-like moisture, swollen and ready. Kissing down that juicy, velvety crevasse was like diving into a forbidden garden, Ithunn realised that she could quite possibly have spent the night there, just savouring the juxtaposition of fruity and mildly salty tones, the silky, pliant texture of the inner lips as they parted under the touch of her tongue. At least, Ithunn thought, Elyszara's sex was similar to Inge's, so that, in any case, she had a point of reference. So she redoubled her efforts, bringing her tongue to bear against the tiny, stiff little bud which had slipped its sheath at the apex of Elyszara's sex, lapping with wild abandon.

Drawing in a sharp intake of air, the aasimar pressed her heels against Ithunn's back, drawing the novice further in as she began to buck her hips slightly, raising her open wet, sex for the blonde human to feast upon.

"Easy, you need to pleasure me, not clean me, try to stay focused." Elyszara chided, somewhat annoyed that she had to say it. It was more like something Cirily told her when they were first experimenting in their first flush of adolescence.

"Sorry..." Ithunn felt as if she would never be able to stop apologising, "what do you...uh, prefer...I mean, no! Forget what I just said, just let me..."

"For future reference, Ithunn," Elyszara said, hoping the lecture would not diminish her libido beyond repair, "it varies. As far as I'm concerned, though, what you were doing was just fine."

Ithunn fell back into Elyszara's sex, this time with a more calculated, strategic approach, with her lips and tongue gently applying focalised pressure on the aasimar's stiff little clitoris. Once again gaining in confidence, Ithunn's rhythm increased as she extended an arm upwards to lovingly clasp Elyszara's firm, rounded breast in her hand, her fingers rolling the engorged nipple with the softest touches the novice had so far managed. As her approval of Ithunn's actions mounted, so did the fire in her Elyszara's loins, a knot of tension forming deep in her pelvis as the aasimar sought to quench it against the blonde novice's probing mouth. Of course, it took a little longer than normal, but Ithunn was a tireless worker and Elyszara found the human girl's youthful, classically beautiful and diligently concentrated face between her thighs decidedly adorable.

The aasimar's breath quickened with each passing instant as she found the first spasms of her orgasm begin, slowly at the periphery of her mind at first, before finally falling into a long, deep release of tension. Elyszara could only punctuate the waves of pleasure rippling through her with short, sharp moans and such was Ithunn's dedication that she did not once look up until she was certain that her newfound lover had taken her full pleasure. Elyszara's hips slumped back into the cushions, with Ithunn following, placing loving kisses on the exposed lips of the elfin girl's sex.

"Thank you for that, milady knight, it was lovely, now come and kiss me."

Ithunn blushed violently, crawling up Elyszara's torso to meet her gaze, "No, please excuse my clumsiness, I was no doubt unworthy of a discerning lady such as yourself."

"Hush, milady knight, allow me." Elyszara said, this time taking the lead in the kiss. Her movements were more fluid, expert and nuanced that Ithunn's, her lips just as passionate, but more focalised on their objective. Clasping Ithunn's hanging breasts in her hands, Elyszara grazed the stiff, pink nipples with the sides of her nails, before running the palms of her hands in a gentle massaging motion from under the swell of the human girl's breasts, to her flat, taut midriff, before brushing around the golden curls atop her sex. A curious finger found its way between the petals of Ithunn's sodden sex, carefully plying the lust-swollen flesh apart. The novice bit down heavily on her bottom lip and gasped in awe as Elyszara brought the nectar drenched finger to violet lips and licked the moisture from it hungrily, all the while looking into Ithunn's eyes, "I think, milady knight, it is time for me to be made yours." Elyszara said wryly as she shifted her legs, hooking one around Ithunn's shoulder and helping the novice settle into a position atop her so they both lay sex to sex.

"You know how to do this, right?" Elyszara asked as gently as possible so as not to embarrass Ithunn. Her own desire was building again as she felt the heat of the human girl's sex so close to her own. It was pleasing to feel so open and vulnerable, Ithunn's strong shoulder supporting her graceful thigh, whilst her sex lay open in all its flowering glory, the candlelight reflecting off the moisture that had accumulated over the light-pink lips.

"Well...sort of...I mean I can try." Ithunn said hastily.

"Don't worry, treasure, just go easy and I'll show you something really special later." The aasimar ensured she was firmly planted against the cushions supporting her back and bottom and began to gently suggest a rhythm for Ithunn to follow. At first the novice reacted a little haphazardly, her sex running as much against Elyszara's smooth thigh, leaving hot, wet trails of nectar on the pale skin, as against the elfin girl's own nether lips. With each thrust though, she came ever closer to bringing her sex in communion with Elyszara's. The human girl's natural athleticism helped too in balancing her weight against Elyszara's, each time the juicing folds of their nether lips kissed, it was like a wholly unprecedented sensation of erotic liberation for Ithunn. Never had she experienced the same spark of hot, intimate magma boiling in her veins each time she felt the pliable, sodden lips of Elyszara's sex coat her inner thigh with nectar before grinding, hard, with shocking pressure on her engorged clitoris.

The mounting pressure deep in her sex gave Ithunn the impetus to seize control, beginning to impose something of a pattern of force and timing, each time emitting a little voluntary gasp of pleasure, despite her best efforts keep a dignified air, as she felt her sex thrust and grind against Elyszara's slick, fragrant nether lips. It did not surprise Elyszara in the least that Ithunn came first, her breath quickening with each sharp thrust as she let out a low series of ragged moans. Nevertheless the novice continued her work, eager to please her newfound lover with a passion worthy of the occasion. That dedication, Elyszara thought, as she felt the sparkling crescendo deep in her loins, would make Ithunn a faultless lover in due course. Even though the novice's was rough against her hairless sex, Elyszara had developed a taste for a slightly rougher variant of lovemaking than was the norm with Cirily, so that the friction, in itself acted as a spur to her pleasure, soon bringing her to an unexpectedly pleasant, mewling peak as she pulled Ithunn closer, encouraging her to be more incisive.

When she was certain that Elyszara's climax had subsided somewhat, Ithunn allowed herself to embrace the aasimar again, helping her settle in a more comfortable pose so that they could lavish one another with more casual, affectionate kisses.

"Not bad, Ithunn, not bad at all." Elyszara complimented, before ravishing the novice's soft lips with her own, "Now I promised you a surprise and I'm a woman of my word. Now lie back on the cushions and open yourself to me."

The blonde novice complied eagerly, propping herself up in a sitting position against a pile of cushions her legs only slightly parted - anything more and she feared she may strike Elyszara as wanton. Smiling at Ithunn's reticence, Elyszara rose to her knees and gently patted the novice's thighs, "There aren't supposed to be any secrets between us." She said, gently parting the human girl's pale, athletic legs. Ithunn blushed what she thought must have been a bright scarlet, not so much because of the exposure, but because she knew she was extremely wet.

Setting aside any residual remnant of prudishness, Ithunn watched, fascinated as Elyszara briefly rummaged in her tiny travelling satchel and withdrew a thin metallic object the novice had never seen before fashioned out of a silvery material and forged in the shape of a forked, dragon's tongue.

"Just give me a moment, treasure, this will increase the intensity of the experience." The aasimar said, carefully pouring tiny granules of sparkling red powder into the tip of the item before touching the two tips of its metallic tongue. Suddenly, the silvery metal glowed red and tiny wisps of multichrome smoke began to waft from what, Ithunn concluded, must have been a pipe of some sort. With marked satisfaction, Elyszara took a puff of the Dreamsmoke and immediately felt her senses intensify in both magnitude and clarity as she crawled back over to where Ithunn was sitting.

"May I tempt you with a puff or two?" The aasimar inquired as she eagerly inspected the moist, spread lips of Ithunn's sex.

"I really should refuse...we are not permitted to make use of such substances." Ithunn said, hoping that she did not offend her host.

"Oh, come on, all the big girls are doing it." Elyszara teased as she set the pipe aside and began to plant soft, probing kisses on the outer lips of the novice's sex, "Don't worry about it, though, it's not necessary, it just help you to concentrate a little."

Ithunn nodded gratefully, closing her eyes and biting down on her lip at the sensation of Elyszara's lips gently teasing the petals of her flower open. The aasimar's mouth moved with such grace that Ithunn thought it to be divine, something out of a dream - a soft, yet firm point of pressure against the most sensitive parts of her nether lips, kissing, probing, parting and coaxing to life.

"Elyszara!" Ithunn cried, despite herself, as she felt the dextrous tongue lick and then press gently against the puckered rosebud of her bottom. The sensation was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

"Am I being too naughty for you, milady knight?" The aasimar asked sardonically as she brought her mouth back up to the spread feast of Ithunn's sex.

Ithunn shook her head vigorously, anything to get Elyszara's tongue back to its magical work, "So I take that to mean you're ready, just relax." The aasimar said as she concentrated intensely on the space in front of her eyes before quietly muttering an incantation to generate a small, invisible ball of force which she subsequently manoeuvred with her mind to the lips of Ithunn's sex. The novice gasped sharply at the contact, only to look down and see Elyszara smiling and motionless before her sex even as she felt her innermost lips part and something firm, slightly vibrating and very insistent begin to slide into her.

"You're a sorceress!" The blonde novice gasped.

"Well, I dabble a little." Elyszara replied with false modesty. She was far more intent on the work at hand as she slid the ball of force deeper, enjoying the view of Ithunn's sex dilating slowly, inch by pleasurable inch, until she knew it had lodged deep inside the human girl. It was then that Elyszara's more sadistic streak took control as she mentally compelled the ball of force to increase the tempo and intensity of its vibrations. Ithunn's head shot back, her lips mouthing a powerful cry of desire as she felt firm, quivering pressure on her most sensitive spot hidden deep in the recesses of her sex. By the time she felt Elyszara's tongue complementing the action of the sphere with passionate, expert licks on the tiny bud of her clitoris, Ithunn felt no reason and no memory, just the single, distilled instant of pure, illuminating ecstasy. She climaxed violently, thrusting her sex against Elyszara's face, hips bucking, tiny droplets of her nectar staining the cushions under her.

As the aftermath of her peak faded, Ithunn could only lie back against the cushions, contemplating the warm air and dim candlelight around her. It was as if nothing else existed, "Was that to your satisfaction, my sweet?" Elyszara asked, a satisfied smile on her lips as she took another puff from her Dreamsmoke pipe and settled by Ithunn's side, mentally dispelling the sphere of force lest it cause complications later on. The novice could not find the words to reply, but instinctively fell into Elyszara's arms, nestling her wheat-blonde hair on the aasimar's breasts.

"Silly," Elyszara reprimanded lightly, interspersing her sentences with deep drags from her pipe, her world all of the sudden more luminous and brilliant than before, the sounds richer and more articulate, "you're my brave knight, you're supposed to cuddle me, not the other way round."

Ithunn's head slumped forward in embarrassment, "Sorry, Elyszara." she said, rising to her feet and quickly gathering up her uniform: she had humiliated herself far too much for one night.

"For what, treasure?"

"I...I am afraid I am not much of a lover, not much of a paladin, not much of anything, really. Perhaps you thought I would have been able to treat you with all the romantic attention that should be yours by right, but I...I am just a simple girl and you deserve so much better." Ithunn said, not a hint of bitterness in her voice, just a quiet, if regretful, statement of the facts.

"You can leave now and I would never dream of holding it against you. But you would also be leaving your princess, who really enjoyed the evening and would like nothing better than to fall asleep in your arms." Elyszara said. She knew she was being manipulative, but Ithunn was simply being silly. Everyone had an awkward first few times and there was no reason to spoil the evening because of it.

"Really?" Ithunn breathed, almost inaudibly, the tunic of her uniform clutched firmly in her hands.

"Of course, now come here and hold me."

The blonde novice obeyed, almost in disbelief, as she settled by Elyszara's side and very gently took the aasimar in her arms, holding her close so she could smell the fresh, airy fragrance of her multichrome hair. In reality, she felt that the whole evening had been surreal; not only had she been sensually satisfied more than she had ever thought possible, but now she was cradling one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen in her arms.

"Tomorrow, I'll buy you breakfast and then you can escort me home..." Elyszara said dreamily, the effects of her pipe beginning to sink into every level of her being.

Ithunn cringed slightly, Isobel would make her suffer, no doubt, but she was certain that the night had been worth whatever punishment the Vice-Commander could concoct. Then of course, there was Inge, who would be full of questions. Ithunn was not, as a rule, the dishonest type so she knew only of one answer, as painful as it would be to the initiate priestess: the truth.

Sensing a degree of discomfort in the novice, Elyszara ventured a question, "Are you promised to someone else?...I ask only because I made this mistake another time and ended up hurting someone I actually cared for. Sometimes I'm foolish to assume that the Multiverse is like Arborea."

"No...I mean, not really...she thinks we are." Ithunn said evasively.

"If there's one thing I can suggest from my experience, Ithunn, it is to sort it out as soon as possible. The less you communicate, the more liable things are to fall apart."

"Will I see you again?" Ithunn asked anxiously. If not as a lover, she increasingly felt she needed Elyszara as a guide.

"Yes." This time the promise was most certainly not a platitude.