Sigil - Book II, Chapter II

The Archivist, your narrator

“Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;

What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?”

If there was one thing Virginia looked forward to when she returned to Sigil from the summery world of Mareterra, it was seeing Lily again. The drow was a mystery wrapped in an enigma and, even if Marséna had warned that the nature of the dark elves was stronger than any affection or emotional attachment, Virginia had dismissed this as mere rhetoric.

In a distant past, the drow, too, had been surface elves - beings of goodness and wondrous artistry. It was their sojourn in the sunless caverns of the Underdark, where they had been cast as a result of their Goddess' rebellion against the Creator of Elves, Corellon Larethian, that had definitively warped them. What Virginia could not, however, accept was the idea that, merely because she wad drow, Lily's embrace was somehow less than sincere, that her sardonic, but beautiful smile was anything other than happiness, that her kisses - so warm and passionate - were desire rather than love. It was with those thoughts that the blonde paladin made her way back into her darkened bed-chamber.

As usual, Lily had closed the shutters to the window and inundated the room with motes of magical faerie fire, which illuminated the simple, spartan furnishings in a dull, violet glow. All drow detested sunlight and, despite the fact that Sigil had no sun of its own, the light of day in that city's leaden, featureless sky was more than enough to irritate Lily. Virginia squinted to peer into the shadowy darkness. She set down her traveling pack and gingerly stepped out of her boots.

Lily was sitting up on the bed, reclining on a pile of pillows with one of Virginia's old doctrinal texts, from those not-too-distant days when she was still a wide-eyed novice, open in front of her. The drow seemed immersed deep in her reading. She was naked and the glow of the faerie fire gave her obsidian skin and long, silver-white hair a haunting glow.

Virginia could not help but smile as she climbed onto the bed by Lily's side: the drow woman was almost impossibly beautiful - even the reddish glow of her eyes that others found so threatening was alluring, for they were windows into a fiery, but brilliant soul. That was the soul Virginia, in her wildest fantasies, wanted to possess, so that one day a reformed, affectionate Lily would fondly tell the story of how she fell in love with a human paladin.

"Welcome back, Virginia." Lily said quietly, placing the book aside and drawing Virginia into a passionate embrace. Her violet lips were soft against Virginia's, but hungry, just as her skilled tongue immediately began to weave its magic in the human girl's willing mouth. Instinctively, Virginia's hands began to caress the familiar, but ever stunning curves of Lily's body. The dark elf was simply too sensuous to resist; her skin soft, her curves enticingly feminine, but imbued with a classically elven grace.

"You know, I missed you." Virginia said, her breath warm and inviting on her lover' lips. Lily had begun to undo the belt of the paladin's simple green and brown tunic.

"Did you? So I remain your favourite?" Lily inquired, her calm voice never betraying her inner fear of rejection. As was the norm for drow, Lily had not objection to Virginia being intimate with others, as long as she could still count on the paladin's favours.

"Of course..." Virginia wanted to add some term of endearment to reassure Lily, but decided against it. The dark elf still had much to learn about love on the surface world.

"Virginia, I confess I was curious." Lily said, a little pensively, as she finally loosened Virginia's tunic and eased the paladin out of it. Although her muscles were a little too hard and her curves a little too slender by drow standards of female beauty, Virginia was, in Lily's eyes, an undeniably impressive specimen who managed to combine lithe athleticism with a certain sensuous quality.

"About what?" Virginia settled by Lily's side, gazing into the glowing mystery of the dark elf's hypnotic eyes.

"The book I was reading. I felt I needed to practice your language, but in the course of reading, some questions occurred to me." Lily's tone was a soft, seductive purr as she nuzzled the hollow of Virginia's throat, pleased to feel the paladins slender, but strong arms wrap around her waist.

Virginia allowed herself a gentle laugh, "You speak our language better than I do," despite Lily's lilting, drow accent she had a cultured formality when she spoke that impressed even the studious Friyya, "but tell me, what is it that caught your attention?" Everything about Lily fascinated Virginia; she felt she could lie by the dark elf's side for hours on end, just posing question after question in order to explore the harsh, but breathtaking world of her mind.

"I attempted to pray this morning - to Lloth, the Spider Queen so that I may recover my incantations..." Lily began, before drawing a deep breath, her marvellous, rounded breasts rising and falling heavily, almost as if the dark elf's heart were pained, "but I fear that either I have lost faith in Her or She is losing faith in me."

"Lily..." Virginia started, before realising she could offer little more than empty comfort. Drow society was structured around the worship of Lloth. In truth the blonde paladin could not begin to imagine how difficult the transition to the surface world must have been for Lily. All she could do, in that moment, was to draw Lily into a tight embrace, so close that she could feel the obsidian orbs of the drow woman's breasts against her own. It never ceased to amaze Virginia that, despite being much shorter, Lily - an elf - was more curvaceous in that department.

A long silence ensued, before Lily once again found the words to speak, "I am far from Her. I cannot hear Her voice anymore, so prayer gives me no comfort. I would offer a sacrifice to placate Her, but I know this is not your custom."

"You are free to be what you will. Perhaps you no longer need Lloth's favour..." Virginia said tentatively.

"And if your Vigilant Maiden, your Virgin Huntress abandoned you?" Lily retorted venomously, even as she clutched Virginia almost desperately for comfort.

"I too, would suffer, but I believe that even a priestess knows that she is stronger not only because of her Goddess' power, but because of what her Goddess has taught her - that knowledge lasts even when the link is broken. You, Talilissa," Virginia decided to use the dark elf's full name for emphasis, "can surely find yourself outside Lloth."

"Lily. From now on, always call me Lily," the drow's voice was almost trance-like as she spoke those fateful words of severance, "Talilissa, who was Sixth Daughter of House Kheeleillae, has long since perished."

Virginia nodded in approval and placed an affectionate kiss on Lily's long, silvery hair, "Then I'm happy for you to be Lily, because she is the most beautiful drow I ever met and she is lying naked by my side."

"Oh?" Lily replied, a little contemptuously, "And how many, pray tell, drow have you met and coupled with recently?"

In that moment, Virginia realised that it would take both time and effort before she could even begin to introduce a little empty-headed romance in their relationship. So she decided to translate those sentiments in the language the dark elf knew best. Seizing Lily by the waist, Virginia flipped her over on her back, pinning the dark elf down against the white, starched covers of the bed. Lily put up a little symbolic struggle, but, in any case, the blonde paladin was physically far stronger, so when she finally craned her neck to kiss the dark elf's rich, sensuous violet lips, there was no resistance, only yielding, submissive warmth. Virginia's hands instinctively found Lily's full onyx breasts, each capped by a magnificently stiff violet nipple. Just grazing the sensitive, tumescent peaks with her fingertips elicited a ragged gasp from Lily, who continued to kiss Virginia's soft, dewy pink lips with hungry abandon.

"Do you burn for me already?" Lily inquired, reflexively biting her lip as Virginia placed teasing licks on the sensitive skin of her throat.

"Yes...you have bewitched me." Virginia already felt mounting excitement between her thighs. Just to caress the soft, sculptural blackness of Lily's curves was to inflame Virginia's heart and her sex.

"This Goddess of yours..." Lily began, caressing Virginia's golden hair, drawing the paladin's wet, hungry lips closer to her breasts, "is she powerful?"

"You could say so..." Virginia responded, far more interested in running her tongue up the curve of Lily's breasts. Satisfied with the slick trail her tongue had left on the luscious, obsidian orb, the blonde paladin latched her mouth on a turgid nipple and began to tug gently on the violet peak with her lips. Lily drew a sharp breath at the exquisite, suckling sensation. Even in the darkness, the contrast between pink lips and violet nipple, pale human skin against jet-back dark elven breasts, was sublime.

"Would she accept one such as I as a worshipper?" As far as Lily was concerned, theology and physical intimacy were two sides of the same coin. Many rituals to Lloth involved stylised debauchery where junior priestesses would seek the favours of their superiors through lurid exhibitions of their wantonness.

"Why do you ask?" Virginia spoke between long, affectionate licks against the sensitive surface of Lily's nipples. She could feel the pulse of Lily's heartbeat quickening.

"I seek another Goddess." Lily sighed, arching her back to better present her breasts to Virginia's attentions.

"I have read that many drow who come to the surface in search of a new life follow Eilistraee, the Dark Maiden." Virginia's tongue trailed down Lily's belly, before reaching the perfectly hairless, fragrant juncture of the dark elf's thighs. Lily's sex was simply breathtaking: bright violet folds like some tropical bloom found only a nighttime jungle, and such a heady fragrance that heralded the sticky, bitter-sweetness within. Lily raised her legs to better present herself to Virginia. The drow woman's bottom was absolutely poetic: curved and feminine, but unmistakably elven in its rounded delicacy. Between those firm obsidian globes, nestled the tight, violet bud of Lily's anus. Each time Virginia slid between her lover's legs, she always found a spread feast for her eyes and mouth.

"Eilistraee was cast out by Lloth because she did not have the resolve fitting of drow woman." Lily replied, somewhat irritated that Virginia had even made the suggestion. All her irritation, however, was quickly drowned out by a sudden, surprised gasp as she felt the blonde paladin kiss the moist surface of her sex, bathing those pale, dewy pink lips with the bittersweet aroma of her arousal.

"But maybe she can give you the power and comfort you need." Virginia suggested. She began to lap at Lily's sex in earnest. Using her thumbs, the paladin spread Lily's inner lips, to reveal the sodden, velvety core of the dark elf's arousal. At the very apex of the blooming, violet sex, Lily's clit, tiny but arrogantly stiff, begged for attention. Virginia was not one to keep Lily waiting. The drow girl let out a low, keening moan as Virginia began to work diligently with firm little licks on the burning surface of her clit. The maddening action of the human paladin's tongue stoked the flames of passion in Lily's breast and in her sex, for each lick seemed to send a sharp jolt up her spine.

"Yes, perhaps I shall consider visiting one of Eilistraee's temples...but I would be grateful if you accompanied me." The request was embarrassing; it was not seemly for a drow woman to show herself to be dependent on anyone else, even a high-ranking female.

Virginia did not relent in her licking. The human girl's tongue pressed with almost painful precision against Lily's clit. Resolving to wait for Virginia to finish her lovemaking, Lily lifted her hips higher and held her thighs open. Virginia's touch was a delicious spark of electric, sensual pleasure with each lick. When two, tensed fingers were lovingly worked in the convulsing, sex-slick channel of Lily's pussy, the dark elf could only gasp and begin to buck her hips to echo Virginia's rhythmic thrusting. Virginia's tongue and fingers felt like they were working in synchronism and Lily felt deliciously spread and vulnerable. Her full, obsidian breasts heaved with each thrust, so that Lily could resist the guilty indulgence of cupping one of her own breasts in her dexterous hands, her fingers running lustfully down the surface of turgid nipples.

"Hmm..." Virginia sighed - the exotic, wild-peach flavour of Lily's sex was truly addictive, "I would certainly come with you." Although she would not say it out loud, the thought of being surrounded by silver-clad drow priestesses was decidedly appealing to Virginia.

Lily tensed, toes curling almost painfully in mid-air, against the intrusion of Virginia's fingers. The tight channel of her pussy gave a silky and moist welcome with each thrust. Straining against the pillows, Lily's moans rose along with the gathering storm between her thighs, her back arched, her sex now desperate for release under Virginia's expert ministrations. The moment of the dark elf's climax was like one of revelation - she knew she belonged to Virginia the instant her sharp cries gave way to barking, ragged breaths while her channel convulsed lovingly against the paladin's invading fingers. Ebbing waves of pleasure washed across Lily's sex as the drow woman felt the relieved spasms of her orgasm flood over her.

"Very well...but now take me!" Lily commanded. Like a true drow, she needed to know for sure that Virginia - her new senior priestess and protector - took pleasure in owning her.

Virginia nodded, her lips still glistening in the fairy fire with the slick, translucent fluid of Lily's arousal. Rising to a sitting position on the bed, she took a moment to admire the glorious submission of the proud Lily, who still obediently held her legs open, presenting her freshly satisfied, yet still pouting sex for the pleasure of her mistress.

"Come, kiss me." Virginia invited and Lily lost no time in obeying. The dark elf rose to her knees to embrace Virginia, her tongue affectionately lapping off the bittersweet residue of her sex from the paladin's lips. Lily's hands were glided reverently over the blonde human's body, feeling the lithe muscles of her arms and petite, but unmistakably feminine breasts, each capped with a rubbery, stiff pink nipple. Lily could not resist breaking the kiss to savour that aroma of human female, of clean skin and salty sweat. Sinking lower, she extended her violet tongue to tenderly grace the tip of one of Virginia's nipples with a teasing lick. Virginia began to whimper at the sparkling jolt of pleasure before she mastered herself, deciding instead to dig her nails firmly in the impudent drow girl's back and draw her closer.

Lily smiled knowingly to herself. Malicious, sensual teasing always brought Virginia around to more drow-like forms of lovemaking. So she continued provoking the human woman with subtle licks that just barely grazed the surface of the pink, turgid peak, leaving the slightest sheen of moisture, like a dew-covered flower bud in early spring. Virginia sought to control herself even as her hips trembled with desire, the same desire that stirred the ocean of warm, thick lust in her loins. Extending a curious hand between Virginia's pale, slender thighs, Lily merely confirmed her supposition that the paladin was, in fact, soaked. Beneath the soft, downy thatch of blonde curls was a tender, richly juicing feminine ocean.

"Virginia..." Lily sighed, biting her lip to restrain an involuntary moan as she raised her moistened fingers to examine them. The paladin's wetness was thick, gooey like liquid pearl, and deliciously musky, "you are fertile today."

"Uh...yeah, maybe." The blonde paladin replied, unsure as to what exactly Lily was getting at.

"Then this is the essence of your womanhood. Please take me, I must have you today. " Lily replied, lasciviously cleaning off Virginia's thick juices from her hand in long, hungry licks, as if she were tasting a rare delicacy.

Virginia nodded, still a little perplexed. Easing Lily back against the pillows, the paladin straddled the dark elf, carefully lifting a smooth, obsidian leg to lean it against her shoulder. She then leaned forward a little, delicately manoeuvring her thighs against Lily's so that she lay atop her dark elven lover, sex to sex. In that instant, Virginia saw before her a vision of beauty - white and onyx-black thighs pressed against each other, Lily's delicate foot already pointed in anticipation hooked around her neck, her own sex, almost overflowing with thick moisture pressed against the velvety folds of the drow woman's fragrant nether lips. Rich muskiness and an exotic, floral smell filled the air, as Virginia adjusted herself a little more, her toes digging into the bedcovers for stability, as she lifted Lily's hips higher in the air to better allow her to focus her thrusts.

"You have yet to shave, paladin." Lily remarked darkly as she felt soft, but still irritating, abrasive curls of hair against the sensitive, lust-swollen flesh of her sex.

"Where and when I choose to shave is my choice to make, girl." Virginia snapped back, doing her best to affect what she imagined to be the arrogant sensuality of the drow.

It worked. Lily could have sworn she was ready to reach a second climax that instant because those words brought back a sea of pleasant memories. Virginia was divine when she became the haughty priestess she, in Lily's eyes at least, should be. Such was the dark elf's arousal that she bucked her hips forward, her sex grinding savagely against the velvety stickiness of Virginia's light pink sex lips.

The contrast was wonderful - pink against violet, both rich and fragrant with the dew of mingled pleasure. Virginia, however, had no intention of allowing her dark elven lover to seize control. Taking advantage of her superior strength, she pinned Lily down with hard, circular thrusts, her sex lips spread open and rubbing in delightful friction against the dark elf's like a sublime nether kiss. Virginia quickly reached down to spread the juicing lips of her pussy further, bringing her aching, turgid clit closer to Lily's.

Leaning back, her palms planted firmly on the bed for support, Lily was all too happy to be mastered by Virginia's harsh, urgent thrusts. She felt tension building deep inside her, rising in her spine and hammering in her temples with each strained lunge of the human paladin's sex. Overcome with hot, violent lust, Virginia increased the tempo of her lovemaking, fingers clasping tightly against Lily's thigh, holding the dark elf's graceful leg in the air, opening up the midnight bloom of her sex as far as it would go. Bracing herself, legs straining against Virginia's body, Lily felt the first electric spasms of her climax begin in the liquid depths of her sex. With each grinding her thrust, her clit was dragged across a sensual expanse of slick, silky flesh and delightfully textured hair. It was wonderful to be so spread, so fully and pleasurably controlled by Virginia's domination.

For her part, the blonde paladin felt ecstasy in its most fiery form build with each circular grinding of her sex against Lily's. Steeling herself for the impending wave of her climax, Virginia gritted her teeth and redoubled her thrusting, pleased to hear her drow lover's suffocated, sharp gasps with each frenzied contact of their nether lips. Lily was the first to relinquish control to her passion as her hips trembled, her sex convulsing with the throes of her climax, this time even more desperate and overwhelming than the one before. This time, Virginia was the conquering priestess and that had made all the difference.

Virginia found her release a little later, when Lily was already reduced to post-coital whimpers of passion, her body limp, slick with sweat and satisfied. Grinding a final, hard and long thrust, Virginia collapsed on top of Lily, the torrent of desire in her loins flowing outwards, filling her veins with pulsing heat and making her knees buckle under spasms deep in her sex. The tide of the paladin's need ebbed, her breathing returning to a more comfortable rhythm as she buried her face between Lily's breasts.

"Any drow woman would be honoured to couple with you, Virginia." Lily said between panting breaths.

"Thanks..." Virginia replied, "but would you like to...uh, change roles from time to time?" There was still much the paladin had to determine about drow sexuality and though she generally preferred to be in control during lovemaking, she did have some very pleasant memories of playing the 'coy, innocent novice' with Marséna .

"No, drow know their place." Lily explained, gently easing Virginia on her back, "When a drow female couples with a higher-ranking Matron or Priestess, she must submit, just as she would expect those beneath her to likewise submit."

"Of course, but I don't mind. Really, if you would like to try something else we can do it. I just want you to be comfortable...ah!" Virginia gasped suddenly as Lily's kisses, which had previously been quite chaste and innocent - by drow standards at least - on her belly, suddenly became eager, hungry lapping on her moist nether lips.

"Perhaps, I could consider it." Lily said between licks. The fertile, deep pink, musky feast of Virginia's sex in the most fertile phase of its cycle was an occasion no drow female with any blood in her veins could pass up.

"So...maybe next time you can assume I'm a junior priestess and treat me accordingly when we make love." Virginia suggested, a little uneasily, trying very hard to contain herself under the expert work of Lily's tongue. She had always believed that the best way to understand a lover was to enter into her role, even if just occasionally.

"Are you certain? You may be...unaccustomed to our coupling." Lily warned.

"Just once, to have an idea." Virginia insisted, her curiosity getting the better of her. One particular role reversal with Marséna had started out quite painfully, but, under the Mareterran's patient and expert touch, it had soon become a very guilty pleasure.

"As you wish." Lily said, though she was internally a little hesitant. It would have been considered deeply inappropriate in drow society for the social hierarchy to be reversed in the bedroom. But then again, adaptability was the key to survival, "But for now, remember that I am still at your command."

A knock was heard at the door of the darkened bedchamber. Virginia ignored it, "Very well, girl," the blonde paladin began, reprising her role as a domineering dark elven priestess, "once you have done you duty between my thighs, you will turn over, grip the headboard and present for me to do as I please."

Lily felt a rush of heat and desire flare down her belly. Whatever Virginia had in mind, she could only hope that it was suitably lustful and painfully pleasurable. The knock came again, more urgent this time and even Lily briefly looked up from Virginia's sex, an expression of deep irritation on her cruelly beautiful elfin features.

"What?" Virginia said, a little impatiently, sitting up.

"Virgie, it me," it was Marséna , her voice sad, almost tearful, "I really need to talk."

Although she was normally an extremely tolerant person, Virginia could not help rolling her eyes. Marséna only called her that deeply embarrassing diminutive when she needed a sisterly cuddle which, with Lily's hungry tongue now working its magic on her clit, was the furthest thing from her mind.

But Marséna was Marséna , so, very reluctantly, Virginia carefully disentangled herself from Lily and rose to her feet. Grabbing a blouse from the neatly arranged washing pile by the side of the door, the paladin made herself as presentable as possible before opening the door. Before she knew it, Marséna was already in her arms.

"What happened?" Virginia asked as gently as she could, knowing full well, without having to look, that Lily sat crouched on the bed staring daggers at Marséna .

"I'm such a bitch sometimes..." Marséna began, before swallowing, as if to rid herself of the knot of emotion in her throat, "my poor little Shesayne..."

"All right, come on," Virginia relented, stroking her friend's long, raven-black hair reassuringly - Marséna could often get emotional about a number of matters, but never without good reason, "I'm sure it will be all right, have a seat on the bed and tell me everything."

Defiantly, Lily wiped her lips with the back of her hand in full sight of Marséna , just to remind the Mareterran paladin exactly what she had been doing before undesired interruption. She did not even bother to dress, but simply rose and moved to exit the room.

"Lily, please, it will only take a moment." Virginia protested, knowing full well that she had already managed to upset the dark elf.

"I," Lily began anger burning in her deep red eyes so that it flooded her face with a menacing light, "do not know why her sentimental problems should interfere with our coupling. Surely this is an affront to your dignity as a priestess."

"Lily, please!" Virginia interjected, firmly this time while Marséna slumped sullenly, and wordlessly, on the bed.

Wincing at the tone of command, Lily decided that, as always, it was best to respect hierarchies. So she left the room with a little deferential nod of acknowledgement directed at Virginia, just to remind the paladin that her authority was not in question. Unselfconsciously naked, Lily walked into the small kitchen and living area of the apartment, leaving the door to Virginia's room ajar, so that just a little light could filter in. In the distance, Virginia could hear a shocked Friyya begging Lily to "put something on, by the Goddess!".

"I'm sorry," Marséna said, all of a sudden, her eyes planted firmly on the ground in front of her, "you two were being intimate, right?"

"No, don't worry," Virginia said, smiling gently as she took Marséna into a tight embrace, "it's Lily after all, she will start again in no time."

Marséna nodded miserably and snuggled closer to Virginia's breasts, revelling in their familiar warmth and in the residual smell of sweat and sex. That was exactly the same sweet perfume she remembered from when they were novices - tussling and thrusting, grinding and licking under covers already moist from their lovemaking. Perhaps there would still be time to rediscover that lost paradise that lay buried in memory.

"So, my treasure," Virginia invited, placing a soft kiss on Marséna 's cheek, "tell me all about it."

***

Although her heart burned with questions, Shesayne lay happily in Marséna 's embrace, hungry for warmth and affection. The petite half-elf had been promised a definitive answer to how she stood in Marséna 's eyes and, although the omens were not good, she was never one to lose hope. Marséna had understood her and tolerated her more than anyone else except for Min. Even in that moment, when Shesayne was clad only in one of Marséna 's blouses which she left half-unbuttoned so her rounded, compact breasts and dark pink nipples, firm and ripe like rosehips, were in full view for anyone who cared to look, the Mareterran woman only smiled indulgently. Marséna had never told Shesayne she ought to dress or speak differently and that, in itself, was already a lot, and certainly grounds for hope.

"Well, my sweet, lovely, beautiful Marséna ," Shesayne began with her typical over-enthusiasm, as she peered into her lover's soulful brown eyes, "how was your trip?"

"Nice..." Marséna replied, a little evasively, "nice to see my family again, be with Virg..."

"Nice to be out alone and all-by-yourself with no one to see with Virginia, you mean?" Shesayne interrupted, her smile - usually so impish and innocent - now a little morbid and twisted.

"I suppose. But you and I both knew it was going to happen." Marséna 's tone was colder than she had intended. Shesayne may not have been an excessively jealous lover, but she too had limits.

"And so, Lady Marséna ," Shesayne retorted mockingly, sitting up abruptly and straddling the Mareterran paladin - there was muted anger in those bright, curious blue eyes, "have I been your fool, toy and fling or true love? You choose."

"You can't possibly expect me to answer that question." Marséna replied angrily, seizing Shesayne by the shoulders so that they sat face to face. She would not be given an ultimatum, especially on the subject of something so delicate as her relationship with Virginia.

"Yeah, I bet that's what you told Virg too," Shesayne said savagely, rage welling in her breast, "but you're like that Marséna : you'll kiss me, fuck me, call me 'kitten', but when it comes down to it, you hope that soon poor little Shesayne'll be nothing more and nothing but the silly half-elf slut you had fun with for a while you and Virg live out your picture-perfect, white dresses and ringing bells romance."

"Shesayne...please don't ask me to decide." Marséna said wearily. The half-elf was temperamental, to say the least, but there was something in her voice that gave the paladin the impression that there was something not quite right in this argument.

"Fuck you!" Shesayne snarled, the fine line between a habitual quarrel and a critical one had been breached, "Fuck you and guess what? Lily got there first, you lost Marséna and you don't even get or realise it yet! You lost and as far as I'm concerned, Lily deserves her a hundred, no a thousand times more than you, 'cause at least she always says what's on her mind. She never tried to feed me your screed, never. She probably doesn't like me much and she probably isn't going to buy me flowers any time soon, but she doesn't treat me like a child. That and she's no hypocritical whore, I know about Syf y'know..."

Before she could stop herself and, impulsive as ever, Marséna slapped Shesayne, hard across the face. In that moment, they both knew they had gone too far. The half-elf crumpled on the side of the bed, sobbing hysterically. Shesayne had once sworn that she would try not to cry - to master herself and become a stronger woman, but the very act of Marséna , a person the half-elf had always imagined would protect her to the death, striking her was too painful to contemplate.

"Oh...kitten, I'm so sorry. My sweet little Shesayne...forgive me." Marséna said, her hand trembling, as if it now rejected the cowardly act of violence it had been forced to perform.

Shesayne continued weeping, curled up in a fetal ball, seemingly oblivious to Marséna 's profuse apologies. A tentative hand to gently stroke Shesayne's cheek was violently rebuffed as the half-elf angrily shrugged it off, her little body wracked with sobs. Marséna was speechless. She was not an especially violent person and never in her life had she ever imagined hurting someone so much weaker than she was, let alone Shesayne. Worst of all, the secret she and Syf had vowed never to share until the time was right had fallen into a potentially vengeful Shesayne's hands.

"Shesayne...please, forgive me. I was stupid, I...never, I mean...you know I would never, ever hit you or hurt you...." Marséna begged, desperately trying to comfort the weeping girl.

"Yeah," Shesayne whispered, her voice already hoarse from crying, "but you've already done both, so I don't know what you're making empty, pointless promises for." Rising unsteadily to her feet, her face - normally so impish and pretty - streaked with tears of hot, impotent anger, Shesayne proceeded to undress and fumble through her clothes chest for the first outfit she could find.

"Come on, please, give me a chance," Marséna implored as she climbed out of bed to place a conciliatory hand on Shesayne's shoulder, "I don't want to throw what we have away."

"All right," Shesayne challenged, pulling on her favourite red dress with its dragon-scale pattern bustier and flimsy, airy crimson skirt, "do you love me?"

"Yes." Marséna said fervently, without even thinking. Shesayne was beautiful in that dress, even if her face was twisted with sadness and riddled with tears.

"Can you ever be in love with me the same way you're in love with Virg?" Shesayne said, her voice cracked with emotion. She already knew the answer.

Marséna stood there, frozen to the spot, watching the unbearable sadness in Shesayne's eyes and the resigned smile on her lips, "No." Was the only reply she, as a woman of principle and a paladin of the Radiant Path could honestly give.

"Then I should probably go." Shesayne turned to leave.

"Please don't." Marséna protested weakly, knowing full well there was no argument that could save her case. She lunged forward to seize Shesayne and, with consummate ease, held the smaller girl against the door of her bedchamber. They stared at each other for a long, pregnant moment. Even if she was silent, tears fell without interruption from Shesayne's eyes.

"I'm sorry Marséna ," Shesayne said, with regret rather than anger, "but I'm not a strong girl like Virg: I don't fight demons, dragons and dark mages or whatever, I'm not a high-up with a storefront and lots of jink in magical vaults, I'm not some noble lady some of you paladins dream of rescuing...I'm Shesayne, from the Hive and - you can ask Min if you like - I don't ask for much, but if there's one single, solitary, sodding thing I ask it's someone who can make me feel like I'm special and like I belong."

Marséna loosened her grip from Shesayne's shoulders and stepped back, "You...you can always come back. Any time."

"You can always come find me. Any time." Shesayne replied, a bitter smile on her lips as she turned to leave. It was raining outside - she could hear the thick, cold droplets hammer rhythmically against the stone courtyard of the Temple below just as it pattered rhythmically against the windows of the apartment. In the end, Shesayne concluded, it was almost as if some goddess had taken mercy on her condition - first rejected by her mother and then by the lover she hoped would finally treat her with the reverence she deserved - and sent down rain so that she would not have to weep alone.

**********

"What an awful day." Aerylle commented, wistfully staring out the thin, oval window which illuminated her tiny, but meticulously well-tended apartment.

"So you're lucky we're never short of ways to pass the time." Min said suggestively as she wrapped her arms around the elven librarian's waist, drawing her soft, slender body close. As usual, the tiefling was wonderfully sensual without even trying: the almost transparent, red dressing gown Aerylle had bought for her lay wide open, casually draped around her shoulders.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Aerylle inquired, even though she knew it was hopeless to argue with Min.

"Business is slow." The tiefling replied curtly, pulling back a few strands of honey-blonde hair to reveal one of Aerylle's pointed ears.

"Well I do hope they pay you...ah!" Aerylle gasped at the delicious sensation of Min running her maddeningly provocative tongue up the sensitive skin of her ear.

"'Course they do." Min's voice had sunk to a low, sensual whisper as her sultry, naturally crimson lips began to plant wet, eager kisses down Aerylle's neck.

Min's languid sensuality had the ability to quicken Aerylle's heartbeat with a mere touch, or suggestive word. So it was inevitable that the elven girl found herself leaning back against a polished wooden wall, with Min's lush mouth hungrily kissing the breath from her lips. There was no dance more exotic or entrancing than that of Min's tongue when she kissed, except for, perhaps, the gentle caresses of the tiefling's hands down the thin fabric of Aerylle's simple, sky-blue robe. Min's presence alone was enough to make the elven maiden forget what she was doing and submit wantonly to Min's long, searing kisses like an starry-eyed adolescent girl.

As they kissed, Aerylle explored the lithe muscles of Min's body - the feminine, yet strong thighs, beautifully flared bottom and hard, flat belly which, as if by miracle, gave way to fine, firm breasts adorned with dark red nipples, already firm and eager for the grey elf's touch. Min's caress was always far more determined, but never invasive nor demanding, just certain of her own erotic irresistibility. With a sharp jerk, the ember-haired tiefling tugged down Aerylle's robe, so that it pooled around the satin sash with which it was tied around the elven girl's slender waist. Aerylle gasped as her nipples, painfully hard like arrowheads, pebbled in the cold air. Her breasts were smaller than Min's, but beautifully conical and tipped with peach-pink nipples, waiting to be devoured.

The elven librarian had ceased to protest at Min's vigorous lovemaking - no elven woman, she reflected, no matter how bigoted, would have rejected the tiefling. Aerylle was convinced that even her own mother would have eagerly parted her thighs for Min after a few smouldering gazes and well-placed caresses.

But now was not the time for such thoughts, for Min's fingers, dexterous as only those of an expert thief are, reverently cupped Aerylle's breasts, a crimson fingernail brushing teasingly across the taut, sensitive surface of one of the elven woman's nipples. Aerylle would have moaned in contented pleasure had it not been for Min's mouth enveloping her lips with such fiery passion. After what felt like an eternity, Min finally decided to break the kiss, her deep orange eyes already burned with flames of lust which welled, in more liquid form, in the depths of her loins. Shrugging off her dressing gown, Min trailed her tongue down Aerylle's neck, down the valley between the elven maiden's delicate breasts. Instinctively, she leaned back against the wall, her knees bent for support while Min knelt down in front of her. With long, painfully slow licks, Min trailed her tongue, deep red like her lips, up the delectable curve of her elven lover's breasts, before gently circling around each stiff little nipple, building anticipation for what would inevitably come next.

Aerylle could barely restrain a whimper at the indescribably delicious sensation of Min's lips latching onto the stiff peak of her breast. It was if her mind were flooded with the sheer pleasure of perfection: rich, soft lips on her sensitive nipples, teeth grazing just enough to tease, tongue wet and insistent in its licks. Min smiled to herself. She could hear the hammering of Aerylle's heart in her chest. Clasping the tiefling's deep, ember-red hair in her slender fingers, Aerylle drew her lover closer. The tiefling had filled her with a most un-elven urgency.

It was then that Min paused and looked up, her enigmatic gaze fixed on Aerylle, "You're wet, aren't you princess?" The tiefling asked lasciviously, licking her lips as if she were already savouring the flowery sweetness between the grey elf's thighs.

"Oh, Min," Aerylle chided, "must you always be so explicit?" As far as she was concerned, lovemaking was an art which required only the most poetic of terms.

"Answer the question," Min retorted, a dangerous smile on her face, "you wet or not?"

"If you must know," the grey elf conceded, "yes. Very."

"Good girl..." Min purred, painting a long lick between Aerylle's breasts, "now I want you to bend over the kitchen table, face 'gainst the wood."

"What...?" The librarian was perplexed, to say the least.

"Just do it." Min ordered impatiently and Aerylle complied wordlessly, wondering what in the name of the Seven Heavens she had gotten herself into.

Proceeding uneasily to the small, round table which dominated the tiny - yet tastefully decorated - cooking area of Aerylle's apartment, the elven librarian carefully leaned forward, so that her belly and breasts were in contact with the perfectly polished cherry wood surface. It was an uncomfortable position, but Aerylle's thoughts were now focused firmly on discerning what Min had in mind. As far as the tiefling was concerned, she could have admired the scene all day: Aerylle was magnificent in that position, her honey blonde tresses and thin braids spread across her pale, porcelain-white back. Her blue robes now covered only her waist and legs down to the knees.

"Good," Min said, drawing closer - all her movements were effectively soundless, something which had always unnerved Aerylle, "hike up your robe."

"Min!" Aerylle reprimanded, "Maybe you have me confused with someone else."

"I said hike up your robe, princess." The tiefling's tone was a heady mix of sensuality and menace.

Reluctantly, Aerylle complied, reaching down for the hem of her robe and lifting it up around her waist, before settling back on the table. Min's insides turned to roiling magma at the sight of Aerylle's dewy, light-pink nether lips - fragrant like a pale mountain flower - and that marvelously firm, tight bottom which, in the tiefling's opinion, her lover never did enough to accentuate. But the experiment was not over yet, for Min had decided to begin to test the limits of Aerylle's fascinating with new cultures and experiences.

"We can't have you standing slack like that, can we now?" Min said with affected concern, "On your tiptoes."

Blushing fiercely, Aerylle complied, leaning deeper into the table and arching her feet so her toes dug into the soft carpet under her, keenly aware of the delicious sensation of her stiff nipples against the polished wood under her. She felt both vulnerable and exposed, yet there was a deliciously forbidden sensation of excitement in surrendering herself so utterly to Min.

"Now spread your thighs." Min ordered. Aerylle was already too far gone to object, so she settled her legs wider apart, opening herself up completely. Min lunged, falling to her knees, and immediately greeting the nectar-drenched elven sex lips with long, needy licks. Aerylle mewled in a most unbecoming manner in reaction to the sudden assault as she reflexively clutched the edges of the table. Min's tongue lapped in an irregular, winding pattern, so there was never any monotony in her oral ministrations, just on shivering jolt of pleasure after the other. Tasting Aerylle was always special - like drinking something fresh and flowery, even the sensation of the elven girl's lust-inflamed nether lips was one of pure silkiness, like a rose petal.

Min continued to lick hungrily, her tongue teasing the sodden entrance to Aerylle's fragrant canal, while a malicious thumb insinuated itself higher up the elven maiden's sex to press gently against the tiny, stiff bud at its apex. Aerylle felt her loins catch fire under Min's attentions, just as the muscles in her thighs and calves tensed with each lick. But more visceral still was the sensation of Min expertly coaxing her clit in a tortuous, circular rubbing motion. As she built her tempo, Min's tongue drew longer and longer trajectories over the sensitive, juicing flesh of Aerylle's pussy, until the tiefling finally decided to grace the tight valley of her lover's bottom with a long, wet lick. It left a trail of cool moisture in the crevasse of the flawless, pert bottom.

Aerylle gritted her teeth and could not contain a strangled cry as she felt Min use her free hand to gently separate the twin globes of her bottom and begin to place firm, wet licks against the pale pink star of her anus. Min's attentions on the elven maiden's puckered rosebud were gentle, almost tender at first, before becoming ever more bold in coaxing the little muscle into loosening. Aerylle felt her blood quicken and her back arched in response to Min's expert twin stimulation of her clit and bottom. It was then that Min released her grip on Aerylle's pert bottom and gently tapped the well-moistened nether portal with the tips of two fingers. Aerylle cringed. She knew what was coming next. In one long, but very gentle thrust, Min replaced her tongue with two fingers and slid, with very limited resistance, past her lover‘s tiny rosebud, now in full bloom.

"Min!" Aerylle gasped, bucking her hips to draw more of the tiefling's fingers into her. It was humiliating, but the desire which assailed her loins was sparkling, so that her hips and sex were now stronger than her will.

"You like it, don't you?" Min teased, her thumb pressed down firmly against Aerylle's clit as she felt the elven girl's body begin to spasm.

"Yes...I like you inside me, filling me." Aerylle confessed, her pale cheeks now an endearing shade of pink.

"Is this something good little elven maidens are supposed to like?" Min continued, maliciously sliding her fingers down to the last knuckle into Aerylle's bottom to emphasise her question. The grey elf contracted spasmodically around the intrusion, drawing a satisfied chuckle from Min.

Aerylle bit her lip, the first, massive wave of her climax struck her, edged along by the steady, expert pressure of Min's thumb on her clit, "No..." she managed, whimpering in defeated pleasure as her hips bucked wantonly, "but good little elven maidens who are not ready to "breach the flower" yet sometimes find other...unusual....ways to please one another."

Min smiled incredulously as Aerylle's words dissolved into inchoate, ragged gasps. There was so much to discover about the elven culture with which she had been surrounded since befriending Shesayne, but which hid so much. Aerylle, whose satisfied moans as she rode the waves of her orgasm accompanied the spasmodic clenching of her rosebud around Min's fingers, was proof, if any were needed, that even prim elven ladies, when persuaded, could show a few surprises. Aerylle rode her shameful peak, her loins seemed to disgorge the pulsing heat that had been hidden deep within in rippling waves of warm, soothing pleasure. For perhaps the first time, she truly felt like she was a part of Min.

"That was unexpectedly wonderful, my sweet Min." Aerylle said, a tired but satisfied smile on her lips as she turned around to embrace her tiefling lover.

"That mean we can start trying more new stuff?" Min inquired expectantly.

"Of course. But for now, Min, I think I could go for one more." Aerylle said, taking Min's hands into her own and planting wet, sensual licks on the tiefling's fingers.

"That's my girl." The ember-haired tiefling said, barely containing her pleasant surprise, "Sit on the table and spread for me...real wide, mind you, 'cause I'm going to show you something special."

Once again, Aerylle's arousal overcame her embarrassment. So she hoisted herself up on the table and spread her thighs, planting her feet around the rim of the wooden surface for support. The grey elf's sex was pouting, open and wet, the petals spread apart - so eager and welcoming that Min had to restrain herself from ravishing Aerylle where she sat. All in time the tiefling thought as she sauntered gracefully to Aerylle's dresser and withdrew a small, red wooden box hidden beneath a drawer compartment under the vanity mirror.

"Uhm...Min, how do you know where...I keep my things." Aerylle said, desperately searching for a euphemism. Inside the red box that Min was inspecting was the 'survival pack' Aerylle's mother had given her before leaving the grey elven city of Imej and it contained items one did not discuss in polite elven society: contraceptive potions, scented oils specially designed for 'lonely evenings' and tiny, medicated lozenges for the less comfortable periods of her cycle.

"I've been 'round a few elf girls, so I had an idea." Min replied smugly: elves had some of the most fascinating items, but always seemed to keep them hidden. When she finally found a stoppered bottle of red oil, she set aside the wooden box and approached Aerylle,

"Now you've got to relax...if it hurts too much, you just tell me." With that, the tiefling carefully poured the contents of the bottle onto her right hand, ensuring the skin was evenly coated with the thick, herbal oil.

Aerylle braced herself, toes curling against the side of the table, thighs tense under the strain of anticipation. The insertion of Min's first finger elicited an immediate sigh of pleasure. Min entered her lover with no resistance at all. Aerylle's channel, already slick with the wetness of her passion, parted to lovingly accommodate the invading digit. A second finger followed, and then a third until Min was certain that the elven librarian would be able to adapt. Leaning forward onto the table to kiss her lover, Min began a series of slow, twisting thrusts, spreading the grey elf's channel with each deft motion - she was deliciously tight. Aerylle tried to forget the discomfort in her sex, preferring to surrender herself to the smouldering kiss of Min's lips.

Yet as much as she concentrated on steadying her breathing, Aerylle could not help but yelp in pain as a fourth finger and Min's thumb were suddenly added into the steaming, convulsing recesses of her sex. Despite the lubrication of the oil, there was no denying that it hurt - but not altogether unpleasantly, since the sensation of pain was like a dull fire which seemed to flow into the hot, wet need in her loins and the sparkling pleasure that shot up her spine with every flick of Min's fingers deep in her sodden channel. Then Min began to slide her hand in deeper, twisting a fraction of an inch at a time to slowly part the innermost depths of Aerylle's pussy. The elven girl moaned against Min's mouth, abruptly breaking the kiss to look away, her eyes screwed shut from the sudden surge of pain.

"Hey, hey, easy," Min said softly, kissing Aerylle's sensitive ear, "if it hurts, I'll take it out."

"No...no, please. Go on." Aerylle insisted between gritted teeth, a thin stream of tears marring her pale cheeks. There was no turning back now, especially because Min was very close to the spot she knew she wanted her to touch.

Min nodded in quiet admiration and continued her unhurried work. With a final gentle thrust, Min's entire hand was buried in Aerylle's sex, which clamped down desperately on the massive invader. Aerylle let out a high, keening wail as she felt Min's fingers search deep in her channel, "By Hanali, Min, there!" Aerylle squealed, bracing herself and thrusting her hips almost savagely against the tiefling's hand. It was her pleasure to oblige, so she gave that hot, wet spot of tissue which the Grey Elves poetically called "Hanali's Heart", a few good twists with her fingertips. Aerylle bit down savagely on Min's shoulder so that even the tiefling was surprised by the violence of her reaction. The elven librarian thrashed as her climax overtook her like a maelstrom, so powerful she had to grip Min to avoid falling off the table. Her sex convulsed spasmodically around Min's hand, just as the rush of heat filled her loins not once, but many times over, filling her being with an ecstatic sensation of fulfilment.

Aerylle's high, melodic cries filled the chamber. Even as her orgasm began to subside after what felt like an eternity, Aerylle's hips continued to buck against Min's hand, leaving hot, thick wet trails on the tiefling's pale, red-tinted skin.

"This, Min," Aerylle explained between shallow, desperate breaths, "for us is the most intimate act of love of a woman for another. It is not to be taken lightly, but I am glad that it was you who showed me."

"Thanks..." Min said, a suggestive smile already painted on her lips. After pleasing Aerylle so thoroughly, she thought it only natural that she would be entitled to a very special reward. Very carefully, she began to withdraw her hand from the deliciously slick, vice-like grip of Aerylle's sex.

A knock at the door suddenly broke the spell, "Fuck!" Min snarled. Whoever it was, as far as she was concerned, they were decidedly unwelcome.

"Ignore it..." Aerylle said dreamily, whimpering softly at Min's withdrawal. The knock came again and much more insistently.

"D'you reckon it's urgent?" Min inquired, a little preoccupied with the sudden disturbance.

"Oh...curses, maybe," Aerylle grumbled, "I'll get it. Perhaps you ought to make yourself decent - you never know, it could be my mother."

"I thought you said she'd leave you be to 'find yourself'." Said Min as she bent down to retrieve her red silk dressing gown.

"You have clearly never met my mother." Aerylle replied, adjusting her robe as effectively as she could without the aid of a mirror. She then proceeded to the door which lay at the far end of the kitchen and tentatively called out, "Who is it?"

"Aerylle," Shesayne's sobbing voice replied from beyond the hallway, "it's me, please, please let me in."

"Oh Heavens," the grey elf said with a sigh of relief, undoing the metal latch and sliding the door ajar, "you frightened..." She was interrupted by Shesayne who lunged, weeping, into her arms.

"Marséna ...she doesn't want me any more..." Shesayne sobbed, burying her face in Aerylle's breast, "she...she hit me." The rest of the half-elf's tale of woe was drowned out by incoherent sniffling and whimpering.

"Oh, my poor little treasure," Aerylle said, so sympathetically that even Shesayne was surprised, "hush now, I shall get you something warm to drink and get you out of these wet clothes...you poor girl, in your best dress too. Come, let me help you out of that and I shall have it cleaned first thing tomorrow morning,"

"What's this about?" Min said wearily, stepping closer to investigate the scene. Aerylle's 'motherly' tone was something which tended to very nearly drive her insane.

"Min, don't be so insensitive," Aerylle said sharply, before returning to place comforting little kisses on Shesayne's tear-streaked cheek, "she seems to have had a very bad fight with Marséna ." Shesayne whimpered to emphasise Aerylle's point.

"Is that so..." said Min, quite sceptically. She knew Shesayne and the half-elf's emotional scene was an almost perfect replica of the 'poor little orphan girl robbed by a wicked tiefling' scam she used to pull on unsuspecting, but well-meaning adventurers. Of course, Shesayne would then lead the would-be paladin of justice to a pre-arranged location where Min would quickly and efficiently relieve them of their worldly possessions.

"What has gotten into you Min?" Aerylle asked with some irritation, "Your best friend needs your support."

"Oh, all right." The tiefling said with a sigh of resignation. She leaned forward to give Shesayne a consolatory kiss and noted, with a wry smile, how tightly the petite half-elf gripped the more outwardly sympathetic Aerylle.

"Min, I'm sorry to burden you with this, but could you be so kind as to go fetch us all some supper?" Aerylle inquired, "I just realised we do not have much to offer our guest."

"Does that mean I can stay tonight?" Shesayne said with that meek, girlish voice that almost made Min's skin crawl.

"Of course my sweetest treasure, as long as you like." Aerylle replied, smiling warmly, "Right, Min?"

"Yeah...whatever." The tiefling growled, angrily pulling on her red leather leggings, boots and form-fitting grey top. She felt hot and frustrated. All the sensual tension she had built pleasuring Aerylle was now at a dead end, like a constant, irritating throbbing reminder between her thighs that what would have been one of her best orgasms in days would be indefinitely postponed.

"Uh...Min, if you are going out for food, perhaps you should...rinse off first." Aerylle said, indicating the washbasin with a subtle nod of her head.

"Nothing we haven't tasted before." Min snapped as she stormed out of the apartment.

"I am sorry about her, but unfortunately, I think I left her wanting." Aerylle said apologetically, gently stroking Shesayne's soft, black hair.

"Huh?" The half-elf managed between sobs.

"Never mind. Now come, I think we could both use a hot bath."

Although she was normally quite a shy, retiring person, Aerylle had a decidedly maternal side to her character which, in the event of Shesayne's crisis, did much to lift the half-elf's spirits. Once Shesayne's weeping had been calmed with soft kisses and sweetly whispered terms of endearment, Aerylle heated water for the bath and began to chat, more calmly this time, about the situation with Marséna .

Shesayne spared the elven librarian no detail, explaining how Marséna only truly loved Virginia and had been using her as a plaything to fulfil her immediate physical and emotional needs, whilst always dreaming of her first and, as far as the half-elf's narrative was concerned, only true love. Aerylle nodded sympathetically throughout, even if, privately, she doubted Marséna was that malicious. In light of Shesayne's fragile emotional situation, however, Aerylle was prepared to accept a little exaggeration in her account.

"I still can't believe she actually, really hit me...she's a paladin, she should know how to treat, respect and treasure a lady." Shesayne sniffed, carefully setting her dress on a wooden stool before joining Aerylle in the steaming, comfortably hot water.

"You know she has a temper," Aerylle said soothingly, as she gently began to wash Shesayne's face with a soft, scented sponge, "but at least she did not hit you with violence, I don't see a mark."

"Yeah, maybe." That was cold comfort for Shesayne.

"If I were you, I would not worry," Aerylle continued, "you are such a pretty girl that you will find someone even better for you in no time." That was a genuine compliment. Although she disapproved of the way Shesayne dressed, Aerylle could not help but admire the half-elf's wiry, elfin physique, with just the slightest hint of human roundness in her pert breasts and bottom, and, most of all, her sweetly charming face.

"Thanks, but are you sure I'm not bothering you two. I mean, if you two need to get all hot, wet and intimate I'm probably going to get in your way..."

"Hush," Aerylle interrupted, she had begun scrubbing Shesayne's body while she waited for the lotion she had poured on the half-elf's hair to soak in, "you are very important to both of us, so it is no trouble at all."

"Hmm...am I? Super!" The half-elf said with her usual hyperbole, before dissolving into a suggestive giggle when she felt Aerylle's sponge rub gently, but thoroughly, against her sex.

"Oh really!" Said Aerylle, affecting a reprimand, "You're worse than my younger sister."

"You have a sister?" Shesayne inquired, her curiosity stimulated.

"Yes, but, even before I left, I began to realise that we did not have much to say to each other anymore. All she is interested in is finding someone to court her, so she claims she has not time for study, the arts, or anything more sophisticated than hoping to be the centre of attention for a handsome bard or a beautiful sorceress." Romance was all well and good, as far as Aerylle was concerned, but one had to understand where the ideal ended and real life began. She, of all people, however, knew that lesson to be a very difficult one to learn indeed.

"Lighten up, Aerylle! She sounds like a fun girl, plus I'm not exactly into literature, arts or any of that high-up chant, but you find me interesting and good company...at least I hope."

"Of course, I do, Shesayne - but you work, you have explored Sigil and have many talents..." There Aerylle trailed off. The sad truth was that she would have preferred the impish, hyperactive half-elf as a sister, as opposed to her vacuous, self-absorbed sibling.

"Yeah, I s'pose I do." Shesayne said with a certain satisfaction. Modesty was not her strong point.

Meanwhile, on the bustling streets of the Clerk's Ward, Min stalked down the hard cobblestones with an air of menace. That interruption to her lovemaking with Aerylle had been fatal, because it built frustrated desire in her and, as any citizen of Sigil knows, a frustrated tiefling is a dangerous being indeed. To compound Min's irritation was the fact that she hated shopping. Indeed, she detested it so much that whilst buying a few loaves of flat, elven bread and a jar of Feyflower Nectar, she managed nothing more than a monosyllabic exchange with the very pretty young saleswoman at the counter. Had she been passing by, as opposed to buying food like a common errands-girl, she would probably have devoted a few moments to playfully flirting with the coyly smiling elf. Indeed, had Aerylle been more tolerant, the bakery would almost certainly have been a woman short the following morning.

But in her unfulfilled state, Min's mind began to wander. Every girl or woman who crossed her path appeared to be surreptitiously smiling at her. The effect was maddening, every step through the winding streets brought with it a new sight which excited the fire in the tiefling's loins and set her heart racing. Passing through the well-tended public garden, with its wide alleys and burbling fountains, Min felt the urgency of her need mount, so that she fixed her gaze hungrily on a pale, radiantly blonde deva, which some called angels, clad in a short white tunic, fiery sword by her side. Even angels, Min knew from personal experience, sometimes wanted a taste of the mortal world.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Min drew a deep breath and strode onwards back to Aerylle's apartment. Yet her mind churned with possibilities, so when she finally reached the quiet, residential streets of the Clerk's Ward where all the employees of Sigil's civic and cultural centre lived, her mind was already racing with possibilities. In her fevered mind, Min imagined stepping back in to the apartment and finding Shesayne and Aerylle locked in a wet, passionate kiss. Then, with a knowing tilt of her head, Aerylle would invite Min to join in. Or perhaps she would find Aerylle in her full librarian's robe scolding Shesayne that she ought to pay attention in class, to which the half-elf would demurely respond that she was ever so sorry and would do anything if no-one told her mother. With those thoughts in her mind, Min strode up the winding staircase and paused, curiously, in front of the door the Aerylle's apartment. Her keen hearing easily detected the conversation within, which was more than enough to reduce Min's libido to a dull, dying ember.

"So you promise, swear and guarantee that if I use this honey dust, my skin'll have a better glow to it?" Min heard Shesayne ask excitedly.

"Certainly, my treasure, you have very soft, elven skin. I am certain it would do wonders for you, so that you will not only be pretty, but unforgettable." Aerylle said effusively.

"Yeah, but I'm positive-certain that it's going to cost me a right load of jink, just for one, single, solitary jar."

"Not at all," Aerylle said happily, "I know a first-rate supplier who uses the Library, she can give us a special price."

"Thanks, I sometimes miss the stuff my mother used to buy for me." Shesayne confessed.

"I would also like you to try on a couple of my dresses. We are roughly the same size, I think you would look splendid in a nice, silk evening gown."

"Y'know, I might just give it a little try for a look-see, even though it'd be a shame to hide legs like these..."

Min could not take any more of that inane chatter, so she barged in, slamming the door with enough force to startle Aerylle and Shesayne, "I'm home." She said bluntly, setting the loaves of bread and jar of Feyflower Nectar on the kitchen table, before stepping into the bedchamber.

"Hello, Min." They said, almost in unison.

"How're my favourite girls?" The tiefling said sardonically, a little taken aback by the sight before her. Aerylle and Shesayne had already changed into white cotton nightgowns and were sitting on the plush, overstuffed bed. Shesayne had a look of sheer contentment on her face as she looked into a small handheld mirror while Aerylle diligently brushed her coal-black, shoulder-length hair in slow, loving strokes. The intricately-carved, dragon-turtle comb with which the half-elf normally gathered her hair in a tight arrangement lay on the bedside table. Min found herself staring instinctively at it.

"Shesayne told me the story about the comb," Aerylle said, her voice was jarringly honeyed, "Min...I never knew you could be so sweet."

"Shesayne..." Min groaned. Now it was certain, all the embarrassing details she would have preferred to keep hidden would indubitably come to Aerylle's attention.

"C'mon, Min, it was sweet." Shesayne protested, while Min ignored her and swiftly undressed, casting her clothes haphazardly on a small, rickety armchair which Aerylle normally used to read.

"Let's eat." Min concluded, pulling on her dressing gown and, as usual, not bothering to tie it off at the waist.

"Nah, Min, just a teeny-tiny moment, I've got to return the favour. I can hardly leave Aerylle's lovely hair all tense and done-up before bed, can I?" Shesayne replied, still luxuriating under Aerylle's gentle brushing.

"Why thank you, my dear." Said Aerylle, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss on Shesayne's freshly-washed hair.

- Now there's two of them. - Min thought ruefully. Slowly but surely, she was being surrounded by a femininity she found so ludicrous as to be frightening.

********

Min did not sleep easily that night. Part of the problem was that she was trying to sleep on the floor. By the time she had walked back into the bedchamber after her evening ablutions, Shesayne was already curled up in Aerylle's arms under the sheets. A single reproving gaze from the elven librarian was enough to tell Min that she would have to spread some blankets on the floor beside the bed and make do. Then, perhaps even more infuriatingly, Min had to put up with yet more inane, chattering on the subject of elven linguistics which, in the tiefling's mind, boiled down to the simple, perhaps obvious, statement that the Grey Elf and Moon Elf dialects had a lot in common. When Aerylle finally turned her bedside lamp down, it was like a blessed relief to Min.

Yet sleep did not come easily not so much for the discomfort of her bedding - for Min had slept in far less hospitable places than the floor beside Aerylle's bed - but the weight of her passion, still unfulfilled, and one, nagging uncertainty at the back of her head. Although she would never admit it to herself, it was as if Shesayne and Aerylle belonged together more than either did with Min. Perhaps, as a tiefling, she was best left to skulk in the darkness of Sigil, far from the fairer races of the Multiverse. With those somewhat troubled thoughts, Min finally managed to catch a few moments of blissful, oblivious slumber, only to be rudely awakened by the sound of bedcovers shifting abruptly.

Startled, Min, sat up, naked in the penumbra of the bedchamber and turned to the bed. Forms were shifting under the well-starched and impeccably ironed bedcovers. Not only that, but lips were locking in wet, passionate kisses, hands moved across skin and between thighs, fingers caressed breasts and pert, elven bottoms and parted richly juicing nether lips. Min swallowed, her libido once again blazing into full glory. She felt heat and wetness begin to foment between her thighs, just as the knot of passion began to wind its path down her belly.

"Oh, Aerylle..." Shesayne moaned as the bedcovers were finally thrown off. Any further comment was stilled by the grey elf's lips. Shesayne leaned back against the pillows, allowing the elven librarian to settle on top of her. Instinctively, the half-elf reached to cradle Aerylle's small, beautifully firm breasts in her hands. The grey elf's nipples were stiff, arrogant little peaks against the snowy whiteness of her breasts, ripe for suckling.

"You're damp, you naughty girl." Aerylle said lasciviously, drawing her tongue across Shesayne's lips in a hungry, predatory lick.

"Yeah, I'm wet for you..." Shesayne sighed, revelling in the exquisite sensation of Aerylle's tongue trailing down her throat. Swift, elven fingers found the nexus of heat and moisture between her thighs and Shesayne parted her legs without needing to be asked. Her sex was a fragrant, forest bloom, wet with the dew of her passion. Aerylle's fingers danced on the silky nether lips, gathering up translucent nectar. The half-elf whimpered and bucked her hips to invite Aerylle's entry. Quick to oblige, the elven girl eased two tensed fingers into her newfound lover's aching core, parting velvety flesh to reach the sensitive core within. Shesayne arched her back and whimpered, Aerylle was mastering her. The grey elf's mouth now trailed down her lightly tan breasts to finally rest against a firm, tumescent dark pink nipple.

"Such a naughty girl, hardly an elven maiden at all...Goddess, look at all this." Aerylle said wickedly, withdrawing her fingers from Shesayne's sex and holding them up to the half-elf's face. Slowly, she drew the fingers apart so that glistening digits were connected only by a single strand of viscous nectar. Shesayne eagerly began licking her own essence from Aerylle's delicate fingers, hungrily lapping up the familiar, flowery liquid which had just a hint of human muskiness to it.

"Do you want me to lick you or fuck you?" Aerylle inquired, licking her lips.

"Both." Shesayne sighed as she ran her hands down the grey elf's back to caress the curve of her delicious, tight bottom.

"And where would you like me to fuck you?" Aerylle inquired maliciously. Shesayne had already lifted her hips and spread her thighs in anticipation for Aerylle's questing, expert tongue.

"Anywhere you want to fuck me, princess." Shesayne replied, biting her lip as Aerylle sank between her thighs. The elven girl's tongue began to lap hungrily at the silky, lust-swollen flesh of her pussy.

Shesayne rolled her head to one side of the pillow, her eyes clenched shut, soft, rhythmic moans escaping her soft, pink lips. Aerylle lavished her attention of the spread, sweetly aromatic feast of the half-elf's sex. Shesayne's clit was a stiff little point, begging only to be teased by the grey elf's tongue. Aerylle, however, was in no hurry. She wanted to savour Shesayne, to feel every single sensual experience her body had to offer. Shesayne raised her hips higher, leaning back against the pillows for support and was rewarded with the deliciously wanton sensation of Aerylle working two fingers into the sodden channel of her sex.

Arching her back, driving her sex against Aerylle's invading fingers, Shesayne breaths became ever more ragged, her breasts rising and falling rhythmically, her legs tense in the air like the necks of two swans. The elven librarian continued to lick hungrily, using one hand to keep the pale, pink lips of her lover's sex open, spreading the petals apart to allow clear access to the fingers that were ravishing the petite half-elf's juicing channel.

"Hey, girls, have room for one more?" Min called into the darkness.

Aerylle and Shesayne were clearly too absorbed in their lovemaking to take any notice. It was then that something very odd happened. A short, slender figure with pale skin and long, black hair passed by Min and knelt by the side of the bed. She was clad in a beautifully embroidered white robe that reached to her ankles and her graceful feet were bare.

"Hmm...Alaia," Shesayne sighed, "you finally happy now that I'm with an elf? Doesn't it turn you on seeing your daughter getting licked out by a fine elven lady like Aerylle?"

"Of course it does, my daughter, my flower blooms between my thighs. I would have you both." Shesayne's mother replied, loosening the strings of her robe and letting it pool around her waist. Her breasts were small, like Aerylle's, and, in the shadowy darkness, Min could just make out the contours of tumescent, pink nipples which were larger than the grey elf's, but no less enticing. Leaning forward on the bed, Shesayne's mother kissed her daughter passionately, her tongue eagerly seeking out its playmate, locking their mouths in a passionate dance. Shesayne began to whimper against her mother's lips as she felt her climax approaching.

Looking up from between Shesayne's thighs, Aerylle scrutinised the half-elf's mother with lusty fire in her eyes, "You better enjoy this," the grey elf said, her voice thick with desire as she felt her half-elven lover's sex contract against her fingers in the first throes of climax, "you better enjoy this and get your mother wet and warmed up, because after this you're going to be fucked...by both of us."

Shesayne nodded, moaning softly as she rode out the muscle-wrenching waves of her climax. Her mother's diligent kisses absorbed the loudest of her moans, even as Aerylle's expert fingers brought her to ecstatic, sparkling heights with each lunge of her hand and with each fervent lick of her tongue against the half-elf's turgid clit. Shesayne's mother interrupted her kiss with her daughter to stand up and discard her robe. Her body was slender, elven perfection - more mature than Aerylle, but elves aged very gracefully and Shesayne's mother had been young when her daughter was born. Aerylle took a moment to admire the Moon Elf, before drawing out the last spasms of pleasure from Shesayne's convulsing sex.

"Since I am the oldest here, this is how it shall be done," Shesayne's mother declared, climbing onto the bed, "Shesayne will be taken on her hands and knees; Aerylle you will fuck her sex from underneath while I take her bottom from behind, then, if you so wish, we can change positions."

"Oh yes, Alaia, please," Shesayne said, her voice full of eager, girlish anticipation as she assumed the position ordered by her mother, "but you both have to prepare me with your tongues first..."

Min suddenly sat up and threw off her covers. There was only featureless silence in the darkened bedchamber. Her naked body was covered in cold sweat which was colder still in the chilly night air. Her breath was short and ragged, her thighs sticky and damp. Scrambling about in the darkness, Min found the side of the bed and peered into the blackness until her keen eyesight adjusted itself. Finally she could see Shesayne and Aerylle, fully clothed, and snuggled up next to each other like two sisters or best friends. Aerylle had her arms wrapped protectively around Shesayne while the half-elf slumbered silently, her head cradled in her friend's breasts.

"Shesayne...Aerylle?" Min said very softly and tentatively, her heart still throbbed almost painfully in her chest.

There was no reply, but Shesayne purred and huddled closer to Aerylle's breast. Min simply did not know what to do or say. She was a foreigner to the scene, a cynical tiefling to whom the subtle world of elven female bonding would eternally be barred. Her dream, however, had created a powerful, intense need which no amount of fantasy could quell. Min was proud of the fact that she had never needed to bring herself to climax - she always had an abundant supply of lovers to do it for her. But in that moment she was faced with a dilemma: how to satisfy the rampant flames of her need without offending Aerylle. Certainly, a darkened bedroom with the two foremost objects of her affection was an inappropriate place to think of such matters, so Min hastily washed, dressed and left the silent apartment. The cold, Sigil night air would be a better companion to her meditations.

*****

"Come on, Shesayne, let us see them." A brash elven boy called derisively. Shesayne shrank back into the corner of the deserted courtyard, protectively clutching the embroidered cloak her mother had made around her shoulders.

"No...please, leave me alone." Shesayne protested, tears welling in her eyes. She was disgusted at herself and at her former playmates. Her mother said that breasts were the precious gift of womanhood, but, under the circumstances, she felt more like a freak - an aberration, for she had been the first to develop in such a manner, something which had stimulated the crueler curiosity of some of her so-called friends.

"Leave her be, Lareth," a more cautious boy, whom Shesayne knew to be sympathetic to her, interjected, "she could as well be an elf, they won't be as big as a human girl's."

"Since when are you soft on halfbreeds?" The other boy replied contemptuously and his playmates nodded in agreement, "She must have something interesting. Plus I don't understand her playing hard to get. They say half the whores on Magpie Lane are half-elves."

"Please, Lareth," Shesayne whimpered as she curled up defensively into a tight ball, her cloak pulled close to her tiny, shivering body, "don't you know how to treat a lady?"

"Lady?" The boy snorted, "You're a whore just like your mother, now let me see or I'll have to rip your cloak and gown off myself."

Shesayne bit her lip and prepared for the worst. At least she would do her best not to cry too loudly. That always seemed to give her bullies particular satisfaction. She squeezed her eyes shut, imagining herself in a different place, a different time, where everything was quiet and green, with a boundless expanse of clear sky in front of her. The rough, probing hands never came.

"What on..." Shesayne heard Lareth gasp, so she instinctively opened her eyes and saw the wave-like movement of long, intensely fiery-red hair. As she whipped around to better examine the situation, Shesayne saw her tormentor on the ground, clothing his belly in agony. The red-haired figure was that of a lithe girl, barely older than Shesayne herself, but she was dreadfully fast. A couple of more insistent boys readied their fists, but the mysterious figure seemed to see their movements before they even started, so she easily avoided their clumsy punches, but retaliated with hard kicks in the most unexpected, and painful, of places. Before Shesayne had the occasion to fully digest the frenzied action and shouting around her, the curious crowd of elven youths and children had dissipated, leaving her alone in a open, dusty courtyard, surrounded by tall, decaying black wooden buildings. A few, lonely carrion crows cawed in the distance.

"You've got to learn to take care of yourself." The stranger said. Her hair fell about her face like a flaming veil.

"You're Min, right?" Shesayne said, a little hesitantly, "I've seen you around, but they all say that you're trouble."

"I've got that much of a reputation already?" Min said, feigning modesty.

Shesayne nodded vigorously.

"They won't bother you again." Min boasted, extending a hand to help Shesayne to her feet.

"What about tomorrow?" The half-elf asked timidly, gingerly accepting the stranger's hand. All she had heard of tieflings was that they were worthless halfbreeds, but, all things considered, as far as most elves were concerned, she was the worthless halfbreed, even if most were far too polite to say it.

"Good point." Min said, pretending to think, "That means I'll probably have to stick 'round you...just to make sure you're alright and everything."

"Sounds good." Shesayne allowed herself a thin smile.

"Aw, c'mon, don't I get a kiss or something for saving you?" Min sounded disappointed.

"Oh, no, my mother says a lady never accepts a suitor unless he or she courts her."

"Huh?"

"You know, like presents and compliments and...that kind of thing." Shesayne suggested.

"Fine," Min said, resolving to play the game for the pretty little half-elf who, in truth, had caught her eye for quite some time, "what do you want most in the whole world?"

"A dragon-turtle comb, like the ones the all the high-up girls have in the Lady's Ward!" Shesayne said without hesitation.

"If I bring you one tomorrow, do I get a kiss?"

"Yeah, sure," Shesayne said, beginning to trust the tiefling despite herself, "and if you're nice, I might just show you what they wanted to see."

********

The moment Ithunn woke from the sweetest sleep she had slept in years, she knew that her moment of peace would soon be over. Put simply, Isobel would kill her. This would be the second time in the space of a handful of days that she had missed both curfew and morning prayers. The scene, when she returned to Quarters, would no doubt be grim, but it was not her place to argue with destiny. This was, after all, the destiny that had returned Verden to her years after she had given up hope of seeing her friend again. Now, the half-elf lay by her side under the gorgeously soft sheets of the inn in which they had spent the night, fast asleep.

"Verden...Verden, wake up." Ithunn said, gently shaking the voluptuous half-elf.

Verden gave a soft moan in protest, and tightened her grip around Ithunn's waist, drawing the human novice in closer. It was then Ithunn became very conscious of the fact that she was naked and pressed very close to Verden's soft, full breasts. The night of passion they had shared together had been magnificent, but Ithunn felt that any further delays would give Isobel ample pretext to give her the beating of her life.

"Come on, I have to go." Ithunn protested, sitting up in the bed. In the dull light of Sigil's first daybreak, the richly furnished room, all decorated in polished wood, looked especially cosy, but there was little time to appreciate her surroundings. Duty called.

"Let's have breakfast together." Verden yawned, never loosening her grip on Ithunn.

"Look, I know you think I'm overreacting, but you don't know my Vice-Commander, she is going to murder me."

"Ithunn, you never change," Verden said amiably, planting a soft kiss between the human girl's pale breasts, "always the stickler for work and discipline. I'd put it this way: first, you're already late, which means you're going to pay the music whether you like it or not. Second, you turn up first thing in the morning, this Commander of yours is going to have all the time in the Multiverse to think of how to really fuck you over, but if you turn up later on, chances are she'll have more important things to think about. Third, we need to talk."

"About what?" Ithunn relented, slumping back onto the pillows. Verden had a point. If she snuck in around lunch time, she could probably get away with a quick beating before Isobel was called to her afternoon business.

"Us." Verden replied, throwing off the sheets and straddling Ithunn to look the human novice straight in the eye.

"Go on..."

"Last night was good, really good and when I think of all the stuff we've been through together, I'd be pretty sodding addled if I said we shouldn't be an item..."

"Of course we should." Ithunn interrupted, absentmindedly running her fingers up Verden's beautifully flared bottom.

"But," Verden clarified, "I'm not easy to get along with and I have my own business, which means you don't give me any paladin screed, just like I won't try to make you into a thief."

"Verden..." Ithunn began tentatively - unfortunately the half-elf had pre-empted her, "I want you to stop thieving."

"Fuck you, berk." Verden snapped.

"No!" Ithunn said, sitting up to seize Verden by the shoulders, "I want you to stop. I don't have much to offer, but I cannot stand the thought of you earning your living that way."

"So how will I live?" Verden challenged, staring deep into Ithunn's emerald green eyes to better sense her intentions.

"We'll find something, but I would rather be a seamstress than see you risk your life day by day again, just to survive." Ithunn said fervently.

"Oh really? I might just take you up on that," the half-elf countered savagely, "Ithunn the seamstress and Verden the fucking housewife, wouldn't that be sodding first-rate!" She was not so much angry as perplexed by Ithunn's naïveté.

"So what do you suggest?"

"It's very simple, so simple that even a paladin of the Radiant Path can get it," Verden said, a teasing smile on her lips as she leaned in to tenderly kiss Ithunn's cheek, "during the day we go about our business - though, knowing my line of work, I could use a few nights as well - but in the evening we meet up, have something to eat and enjoy a good, relaxing fuck. Or cuddle...but be warned, as far as I'm concerned, that usually leads to fucking anyway..."

Ithunn smiled - she had very much missed Verden's irreverence, especially in the usually stuffy confines of the Order, "I'm not allowed to leave Quarters yet. As much as I would like to skip curfew every evening to meet you, I don't think my bottom could take it. Why don't you have dinner in the mess hall with me and then I am certain we could find a private moment somewhere...my Consecration is coming up, so I should soon have my own room."

"Could work, could work," Verden pondered, before deciding to probe a little deeper into Ithunn's psyche, "you sure I won't embarrass you in front of your friends? Y'know, the moment they lay eyes on the likes of me they start wondering why a good, human girl like you doesn't find someone better to hang 'round with."

"I promise you that we are more tolerant than you think." Ithunn said reassuringly. Verden, however, remained sceptical. In light of the incident with Ithunn's father, she was hard pressed to believe that humans, and especially Ortho humans who, she understood, were main ethnic group in the Order of the Radiant Path, could look kindly on their relationship.

"Fine, but if they ask, you've got to be straight up, understood?"

Ithunn reflexively looked away for a split second, a moment of indecision which Verden immediately detected. As far as the novice had been concerned, the less said about her past, or her parents, the better. She had always been evasive about the details of her life before joining the Order and had certainly never explicitly stated that she had been born and raised in the infamous Hive Ward. Indeed, from the very first day she had made every effort to alter her speech and behaviour to conform to the highest social standards. Verden's presence would, upon deeper reflection, almost certainly invite uncomfortable questions.

"You don't seem so sure." Verden said, a little accusingly.

"No, I'm not," the novice replied with brutal honesty, "but I spend a surprising amount of time thinking about what everyone else in the Order thinks of me. So I think it's high time that I say fuck them. I serve the Vigilant Maiden with my heart and soul and I am one of the finest fencers the Temple has ever known. That should be enough."

"Stop playing the heroine," Verden reprimanded, "it's going to be hard and you know it. You either choose between me or the Order or you suffer both."

Ithunn exhaled wearily and gently pressed two fingers against Verden's soft lips, silently cursing that manipulative mouth, "I want to be with you and I am certainly not ashamed of you." The blonde novice replied, as thoroughly as she could.

"So, this means we start again, right?"

"Yes."

A knock came at the inn room's door and a female voice called from the hallway, "Madam, would you like your bath and breakfast now or should I return later?"

Verden smiled, gently kissing Ithunn on the lips, "You choose: bath and breakfast with me," the half-elf's voice dropped to a husky, suggestive whisper, "which I promise will be really interesting, or morning practice."

Ithunn groaned and slumped back on the bed - Isobel would do things to her that were unheard of beyond the Ninth Pit of Baator, but Verden, as usual, had made an offer she could not refuse, "Both now, if you please." The novice called and the serving-maid's steps could be heard ascending the stair to fulfil the request. Verden sank gratefully into Ithunn's embrace, her kisses soft and loving on the human girl's throat.

"You were fantastic last night, but you still need a little practice." The half-elf chided, trailing her lips up the soft, pale hillocks of Ithunn's breasts.

"Yes," Ithunn blushed furiously, "I-I have other priorities in the Order...you know, fencing, archery, healing and so forth."

"Screed," Verden said with gentle mockery, her lips latching onto one of Ithunn's stiff, pink, nipples, while the novice instinctively spread her legs to allow the half-elf to slide a thigh against the blonde-furred mount of her sex, "everyone knows what you girls at the Order do all day, and it sure as Gehenna's hot isn't fencing."

"Why don't you come see for yourself?" Ithunn replied, a little defensively. Any other objections she may have had about Verden's gross irreverence were silenced by the unbearably delightful friction of the lush, voluptuous half-elf's smooth thigh against the rapidly moistening petals of her sex. It may have been a bizarre, ambiguous beginning to a relationship, Ithunn thought, but it was a beginning nonetheless.

******

A riot was unfolding on the streets of the Hive. That, in itself, was nothing new. The Anarchist faction had once again drummed up a frenzied crowd of tieflings, goblinoids, half-orcs and other assorted miscreants, disenfranchised halfbreeds and diehard anti-establishment fanatics into a bloodthirsty rage. So the riotous crowd, bearing improvised weapons, with a few well-armed and well-armoured Anarchist agitators in their midst, forced their way through the Civic Administration barricades and spilled forth through the decaying cobbled streets, setting buildings ablaze. Thankfully, as a result of Sigil's humid climate and the generally rotted, moss-eaten nature of its tall, skeletal wooden buildings, few of the fires spread. All those unfortunate enough to be caught in the path of the unwashed masses were compelled either to join or were summarily beaten, sometimes to death, where they stood with chains, maces, wooden planks and an assortment of other weapons which rained down the bloody blows of an egalitarian revolution.

All this was surveyed from Sigil's featureless sky by an airship. On the open observation deck stood Sigismund Pandulf von Dassau in full dress military uniform, his long, black overcoat swirling menacingly in the wind around him. Isolde stood a few steps back, desperately clutching a brass railing for support. The wind blew savagely. Under normal circumstances, even Isolde would have been moved by the sight of Sigil's Great Wheel beneath her, sitting atop of a vast cosmic spire whose base was so far down as the be invisible. But the secretary was, to put it mildly, terrified beyond belief of the generally unstable nature of the airship which lurched randomly in the direction the wind took it. Dassau had no such problems as he stood stoically, intricately-carved magical telescope in hand, observing the unfolding scene below.

"Port side, red fire, three periods." Dassau commanded and Isolde rushed to comply. Coloured lamps were distributed on the observation deck, each with a different hue of flame in it. By 'periods' Dassau meant a system of signaling which would then be relayed to the security forces on the ground. The logic of this system of coordination was that he could observe the riot from the air and plot the most appropriate strategy whilst simultaneously leading his forces engaged in battle.

"Sir!" Isolde said, gritting her teeth as a another gust of wind shook the airship - it was of reptilian design, built to resemble a large, oval floating dragon and powered by a mixture of steam turbines and psionic thrusters, "Would it not perhaps be more appropriate for you to use your telekinetic skills to activate the mechanisms yourself?"

"Nonsense!" Dassau bellowed, observing a detachment of his troops clad in heavy, black armour smash through a mob of rioters. They were under instructions to ensure that a riot did not occur again any time soon, "I am a Bureau Director, I cannot lower myself to performing such a menial task."

"Starboard, yellow fire, five periods." Dassau ordered, noting with pleasure how a group of pikemen was cutting down a retreating contingent of tieflings. Most were skewered as they stood. The telescope allowed for excellent definition, so the arcanoloth was treated with a pleasantly visceral scene of Anarchist-sympathisers being stripped and staked alive by the brutal, monitor-lizard like Khaasta mercenaries he had insisted on hiring.

"Yes, sir!" Isolde called, stumbling across the deck to obey.

"I must say that I am genius." Dassau declared, "Hiring those Khaasta was an indubitably inspired move. Their savagery, their heartless bestiality shall ensure the cowed obedience of even the most radical malcontents of the Hive for weeks to come. See Isolde, how they set children alight with flaming oil in full sight of their bound and gagged parents. They do this not to burn them, Isolde...but to feast." Dassau was snarling in pleasure. Isolde half expected him to start drooling like the rabid attack dog she knew him to be under his polished exterior.

"But sir, why are we of External Security called to deal with an internal disturbance?" Isolde protested. She felt so dizzy she was about to pass out from the constant turbulence that jerked the airship in any given direction.

"Personnel shortages." Dassau replied matter-of-factly, "On an unrelated note, I believe you finally have just cause to investigate your Radiant Path case in a more direct manner. A suspicious trans-planar movement was detected recently, leading to the Prime world of Mareterra. It involved two Consecrated Paladins of the Order of the Radiant Path who, in light of previous suspicions regarding illegal movements of goods or persons, give you ample legal space to use any means at your disposal to identify and ascertain the nature of said movements, as stipulated by Article 98, Paragraph 5, Sub-Section 2 of the Penal Reform Code."

"Sir? May I ask how you know this." Isolde inquired, grasping on to the brass railing hard as she could in order to keep herself conscious.

"The Prince of Darkness hath power to assume a pleasing shape." Dassau replied enigmatically, never once looking up from his telescope. The Khaasta mercenaries were hacking down the last remnants of the left horde of the riot. None were spared, those who surrendered or invited arrest were either dragged into squares to be sawn in half or, and those were the more fortunate ones, were decapitated or eaten alive where they stood.

"May I thus proceed with an arrest?" Isolde ventured, her spirits a little lifted by the prospect of vengeance on Virginia.

"Of course not. All shall be illuminated in due course." Said Dassau, "There is one particular half-elf, however, whom you may find enlightening to interview. I am certain that she will supply you with the information you need."

"You mean that ridiculous individual who works at the retrievals agency?" Isolde asked incredulously.

"As a matter of fact," Dassau's tone had sunk to a rich, and even more self-satisfied than usual, enunciation "she is precisely the subject I had in mind."

"I live to obey, sir." Isolde said in resignation. Whatever Dassau knew, he would only reveal it piecemeal. As far as the old dog was concerned, Isolde was yet another pawn on his cosmic chessboard.

"Excellent. Yet quelling this riot has stimulated my appetite for fine wine. I should perhaps investigate the wine list of the renowned Mareterran restaurant on Dragonspur Boulevard. You, of course, shall accompany me and allow me to purchase your meal in good grace."

"Sir..." Isolde's throat felt parched and tight - the very thought of eating anything more substantial than white bread - with the crusts removed - and glucose concentrate made her stomach churn, "must I?"

"Absolutely," Dassau said, with an edge of poisonous sadism in his voice, "their specialty is cockerel fried in goose fat and subsequently braised in red wine. You are to select that dish from the menu, consume it in its entirety, and sit in my presence until the aforementioned meal is fully digested."

Isolde almost wished she could faint and be brushed off the airship by a gust of wind.