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o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
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The Castle (MF/F, Fantasy/Medieval)
by J. Reynolds (cepheus42@hotmail.com)
***
It was the darkening of the western sky that brought lady Loralei to
the watchman’s tower. Throughout the long day, the noises of battle
rang dimly from the east, the voices of men lifted above the clamor of
sword and steel, the bitter naying of horses piercing all like a shot of
arrows volleyed into her very heart. All day she had listened, while
careful pretense dictated she sit and sew, or help prepare each meal in
silent agony.
Now, as the light failed, she waited to see the men returning. The
sounds had dimmed, though not yet quelled, and soon the wounded would be
arriving, the others to camp near the battle grounds for the night, to
drink and shout curses at their foes across the field.
The first men limped from the woods, following the furrows left by
wagons in the spring mud. In small groups of two or three they held
each other up as they made their way slowly to the keep. In the dusky
gloom, her eyes could not see the faces as they crossed the drawbridge,
and Loralei went down the steps to wait next to the gate.
The stars had come out before the last of the men arrived. These were
often brought in by those still healthy, carried in arms or by crude
litters. Loralei helped with the bandaging, searching the face of each
man carefully. As each was carried away, she sighed and turned to the
next.
He was nearly the last one brought through the gate, and her heart
skipped a beat as she saw his too pale face, the blood staining his
green silk tunic. She finished with the grizzled veteran she was
attending, a man remembered well for his voracious appetite at the
dinner table, and walked with feigned calm to his side.
"What has happened to this one," she asked, trying to mask the quiver
which threatened to lock up her throat like a dungeon gate.
"My lady,’ the soldier rose to attention. "My liege, thy lord, was
beset during the battle. We could not get to him quickly enough." His
eyes lowered to the ground to avoid her gaze.
"Where is he, then" she asked.
"As I said, m’lady, we could not help him quickly enough. But, this
bard, he drew a sword from the body of a dead warrior, and went to my
lord’s aide, holding back the enemy ‘til reinforcements could arrive.
The baron is well, thanks to this man." The soldier lowered his head,
waiting for her dismissal.
"Thank you. You may leave, now." The soldier strode from the hall,
heading back towards the encampments revealed by the distant glow of
fires.
She motioned to several of the healthy men, gesturing to them to pick
of the litter. Marian, her lady in waiting, came to her side, and they
led the soldiers, and the wounded man, to a separate chamber. She told
the men to wait outside and then shut the stout oak door behind her.
Marian was even more pale than the man. Her body shook slightly and
her eyes seemed misted, as though she were to cry. Loralei took her by
the arms, guiding her gently into a chair near the bed.
"He will be alright, will he not, m’lady" Marian asked, the tears
beginning to spill down her cheek.
"Yes, Marian, we will see that he is." Sounding more confident then
she felt, she fetched another cloth from the pail and wiped his brow.
He moaned, his heading rolling to one side.
Marian stood, taking the cloth from Loralei, and continuing to stroke
his brow. Loralei sat down, allowing her maid to take over the
ministrations of their patient. She watched as Marian pulled the tunic
carefully back, revealing the blood stained wound in his side. It was
difficult to see much in the torch light, but she had faith that Marian
would be able to heal any injury he may have suffered.
Marian let out a sigh, and Loralei could feel a weight slowly lifting
from her. "His wound is not grievous," she said, as she wiped carefully
at the blood. "Nay, it is naught but a scratch. This one has more luck
than I may have guessed." Her voice was soft, not reproachful as her
words seemed.
Her hands deft, Marian continued to undress the man, removing tunic,
boots, then his hose. Loralei felt her breath stick again, as his flesh
was revealed. Memories seized at her: she had seen him before this
way, though never so close. Indeed, she knew Marian had often had a
much better view of him, though she always said he had love for only
one. Marian turned to smile at her then, as though hearing the very
thoughts she had not spoken.
A deep breath came from him then, and they both turned their attention
back to the patient. His eyes opened, and he looked upon them,
seemingly confused by his surroundings.
"Where dost I lay," he asked, his voice soft and deep, belying his lean
form.
"You were wounded. Some of the other soldiers brought you here," said
Marian, resting her hand upon his arm to keep him from rising.
He looked upon Loralei, and she felt a warmth rise to her cheeks. "My
lady," he said, "I must thank thee and thy maiden for thy gentle hands.
Life does fill this body once more, and joy at seeing thy beauty." The
warmth began to touch upon other parts, and she caste her eyes down,
lest he see the desire beginning to smolder within them.
"You are too kind, Bralig, my poet." So long she had known him, so
often had she dreamed of him, yet now she found his naked body too
wondrous to look at. Staring at her hands, which fiddled with the
fabric of her dress, was safer. "Indeed, it is I who must thank you.
It was spoken to me of how you saved my lord’s life. You are a warrior
as well as a bard. I wouldst find some means of thanking you."
"A kiss then," he said without hesitation, trying desperately to meet
her gaze. Steadfastly she refused his eyes, and replied "Nay, thou
knowest that my lord wouldst not forgive me should I partake, even in
thanking, of another man’s lips. Marian; thou mayest kiss her, though."
Marian leaned down, her lips touching his. Yet, his eyes never
lingered from her, and, from the corner of her sight, she could see his
desire grow, his manhood beginning to swell. Marian lingered in his
arms, savoring the taste of his lips.
"Is there naught else I can do for you" Loralei asked, her heart
beating so fast as the hummingbirds’, feeling as though it may burst
forth from her chest.
"I would another kiss, such sweetness heals me all the faster," was the
reply. Marian leaned in again, her face still flush from the first.
Once again their lips met, his hands reaching around to pull her closer
to him. Loralei felt waves of longing in her, to be in those arms, feel
his hands on her.
This time the kiss lingered longer, and his hands began to roam
Marian’s body. Running down her back, along her arms, stroking her
legs. Loralei squirmed in her seat as his hand pulled slowly at the hem
of Marian’s dress, raising it up, over her calves, her knees, revealing
her thighs.
Marian pulled back for a moment, her face finding Loralei’s with a
question. Loralei simply nodded, unable to speak now, to say the
words. Marian stepped free of his grasp, slowly pulling her dress over
her head, revealing her smooth, pale skin. Her small breasts stood high
and firm, her nipples erect from desire. She drew near his naked body,
pressing hard against him as she sought his face.
Kissing, he carressed her body, touching every inch he could reach.
She moaned in his arms and Loralei, unable to resist, slowly undid the
front of her own dress, reaching in to clasp one breast, run her hands
over her body, wishing they were his.
Marian’s kisses began moving lower, lingering on his neck with small
bites, moving to lick and suck on his nipples. Her hands reached down,
smoothing over the flesh of his stomach, finding his phallis, slowly
pulling on its’ hard smoothness. Her mouth followed, whispers of kisses
trailing down until she reached his erection, kissing its tip, running
her tongue slowly down its length.
Lorelei bit her lip as her own hands reached down to her legs, finding
herself warm and wet. With building passion she began to finger her
sweetness, her eyes never leaving the bodies before her. Now Marian had
taken him into her mouth, every precious inch of his desire disappearing
into her sweet lips. His head back he moaned, yet his eyes never left
Loralei, watching her as she pleasured herself.
His hands reached down, pulling Marian up, guiding her onto the bed.
His tongue began its work, finding every part of her, each piece of
naked flesh, exploring her body. He lingered at her breasts, sucking
and biting on her long nipples, taking each breast entirely into his
mouth, one at a time, and then releasing them to blow upon them, the
soft caress of breath causing her nipples to grow even harder. His
mouth trailed down, over her belly, along her thighs, parting her legs
until her reached her lips, parted like a flower. With a sigh, his
tongue met her passion, licking her slick sex. Marian’s head went back,
her hands pressing his head into her.
Loralei felt waves of desire flow down into her hands now. She parted
her own lips, pushing one finger into herself, as her other hand softly
rubbed that spot, so sweet, so joyous. She could feel her hips moving,
unable to stop the feeling, the want of him.
With a shudder and cry Marian reached her climax, her body arching up
and wrapping around his. She lay back, small whimpers coming from her
as he continued to lick for a few moments more. He stood then, staring
at the form that lay before him, then turning to look at Loralei. His
hand reached out, taking Marian’s and pulling her from the bed. He lay
down then, closing his eyes, one hand lightly running along his body.
Marian, with a smile, picked up her dress, and, taking the torch from
the holder in the wall, went into the adjacent room. Darkness, almost
complete, fell as she closed the door behind her. Loralei could just
see the edge of the bed, his form silhouetted by some light that strayed
in through the window. Rising, she removed her dress, feeling the cool
air on her skin, the nipples in her large breasts growing hard. She
walked the few feet to the bed, touching his legs, climbing onto his
beautiful form.
His hands touched her skin, caressing her cheek. He lowered them to
her hips, slowly guiding her down until she felt him enter her, his
hardness filling her. She lay upon him, moving ever so slowly, her lips
meeting his, his hands soft upon her back.
Never had she felt such wonder, such beauty. Their bodies as one, the
rhythm growing, his hands finding her in the dark, learning her
secrets. She kissed him again, feeling the sun rise in his every touch,
a hot fire growing below. The pace quickened again, and his mouth
breathed into hers, "I love you," and she replied "as do I, my lord,"
and her passion could no longer wait, as he groaned, flooding her with
love and desire and want. She shuddered, waves of pleasure floating
through her body, seeing sparks before her as she gasped out her love
again, and again, and again, each one punctuated by a breathless kiss.
And then, the quiet. She lay ontop of him, feeling his heart slow
against her breasts. His hands caressed her still, and, though he grew
soft, he made no motion to pull free of her body. ‘This is what I have
desired,’ she thought. Slowly, like a soft blanket, sleep stole over
them. She let it take her, knowing Marian would wake them when it was
soon time to part. Until then, she wanted nothing but to remain in his
arms. And, with the dawn? Perhaps he would need another kiss.
--
"The church says the earth is flat. But I know it's
round for I have seen it's shadow on the moon and
I have more faith in a shadow then the church" - Magellan