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Imodel squatted naked over Calain’s face, slowly twisting her hips around and around, so that her soft sex caressed Calain’s lips as Calain tasted and sucked, pulling the fat pink lips of the elven woman’s sex into her mouth. Imodel sighed, her hands on her knees as she arched her back and twisted her hips around again. Calain was in heaven beneath her, plunging her mouth as best she could into the heat and moisture of the woman’s sex. But Imodel kept giggling and bouncing up in a teasing way. Calain thought it cute, but suddenly impatient, she grabbed Imodel by the hips and held her firmly in place. Imodel squealed at this aggression, and it wasn’t long before she had shivered, trapped in Calain’s strong grasp, and released her passion against Calain’s eager mouth in a helpless climax.
Breathless and deliciously tired, Imodel wiggled her hips, playfully asking for release. Calain let her go, sitting up on her elbow and watching with narrowed eyes as Imodel sashayed down to the stream, hips swinging beneath her tiny waist, and squatted to bathe herself, her plump backside lifting as she spread her thighs.
They were in the mountains north of Alleren, in the rocky pastures beneath an open blue sky. The air was crisp and clear here and the waters pure. They had seen no one aside from the occasional goats grazing and nosy birds that drew near, tilting their tiny heads and looking with beady eyes for scraps food. Calain thought it strange that the Rose Guard hadn’t pursued them and said so several times, but Imodel told her to focus on the good, focus on her new life, and stop worrying.
The longer they hid in the mountains, the more Calain began to like the idea of a life there with Imodel. With a makeshift bow and arrows, Imodel hunted for game while Calain gathered wood and thatch to build a shelter. And there they lived beside the stream, making love under the open sky, cuddling warm beside the fire at night.
Calain was still worried that, eventually, someone would find them there and was glad she had taken a sword from one of the Rose Guard knights she’d felled, even if she hadn’t managed to take any armor. At least she could properly defend them. But she knew they could not hide in the mountains forever, as much as she wanted to. They needed real shelter—and wine. Calain missed a good skin of wine.
“That time was good,” said Imodel breathlessly as she scooped water in her hands. She tossed her yellow hair back and splashed the water over herself. It trickled over her breasts and dripped off her nipples, which Calain watched and felt herself stir.
“And the other times were not?” said Calain, pushing herself up. She was teasing, but Imodel answered seriously, “You were thinking of her that time, so it was better. More intense.”
Calain froze. “What do you mean? I only e-ever think of you . . .” she lied. But she was a bad liar, and Imodel saw right through her.
Imodel gave Calain a withering look over her shoulder. “You called her name,” she said. “I heard you. ‘Oh, Zelda!’”
Calain blushed and didn’t meet the elven woman’s eye.
Imodel didn’t seem angry. She went back to bathing as she said, “Whoever Zelda is, I envy her, that she can wring such passion from you. She’s your lady, isn’t she? The one you slew the queen for.”
“Let us not speak of Zelda—”
“Why?” said Imodel at once. She paused in her bathing, staring at Calain. “You called me by her name. I think I have a right to speak of her.”
Calain sighed irritably. “There is nothing to speak of! She was my lady, and now she is not.” Calain got to her feet and grumpily started pacing, not knowing what she was doing. She just went back and forth, back and forth, the sunlight beaming on her naked shoulders and arms. She was still in her bra and woolen hose and was thankful the Rose Guard had left her her boots as well.
Imodel laughed. “That one will always be your lady. I can tell. And there’s no escaping it.”
Calain glared at Imodel but didn’t stop pacing, her jaw standing out hard in her irritation. “You speak of things you do not understand. Perhaps if I knew more about you, I would call your name instead.” She tossed a hand. “But I don’t even know who you are!”
Imodel cast her eyes down. She was still squatting, and very slowly, she lowered herself to the grass and sat on her backside, hugging her legs. She had become very sad and was staring at her knees. Her shaggy blonde hair swept forward to hide her face, and Calain could see a long ear poking from it.
Feeling guilty, Calain came and sat beside Imodel. “Why art thou so secretive?” she asked gently. “Art thou a criminal? A murderer? I would not harm thee if I knew the truth.”
Imodel laughed sadly, still staring at her knees. “You? You wouldn’t harm any fair maiden who’d sat on your face. Tis your one weakness.”
Calain laughed sadly as well, thinking of Zelda. How true that was. It was because of her fury at Zelda that Calain had stormed off alone and was captured by the Rose Guard. It was because of her love for Zelda that Calain had slain the queen and become a fugitive of Eriallon. Every low point in her life, Calain could trace back to Zelda. She wondered why she hadn’t seen it before. Perhaps Gweneth was right: love made one an oblivious fool and it was dangerous to exist in such a state.
When Calain glanced up, it was to find Imodel watching her.
“You really love Zelda, don’t you?” she said in amusement.
“I love no one,” said Calain indignantly. “I am cold. And empty!”
Imodel laughed softly. “No. You love her. You wouldn’t be so angry if you did not.”
Calain looked away. She had no argument and she really wanted one. Finding no words to defend herself, she said irritably, “Don’t change the subject, Imodel. Why were you imprisoned at the Gold Keep? What hast thou done?”
“Well, I didn’t slay the queen,” said Imodel with a laugh and looked away. “I only wish I had.”
“What did you do then?”
Imodel took a shuddering breath and looked down. “I’m . . . Dost thou knowst anything of elven politics, I wonder?”
“I confess I do not,” said Calain apologetically.
Imodel wasn’t surprised. “Thousands of years ago,” she said, “my people, the elven, ruled this land. All the realms were ours, and humans lived on the outskirts of civilization, in little villages and hamlets. Then the elven empire fell, my people scattered and diminished in number, and humans took control of the land.”
“Yes. This is known to me, to everyone.”
“What is not widely known is the fact that my people have been trying to take back the realms. We have formed a resistance known as Hidden Dragon and have been making moves to overthrow the human queens for decades now. The court mage, Alarien, she was one of ours. She spent years manipulating the queens and was found out and executed. I . . . was a servant in the castle. I was helping her. When they captured Alarien, they captured me. They were going to execute me, but they hadn’t finished interrogating me first.”
Imodel fell silent, staring at her knees, waiting for Calain’s condemnation.
Calain found herself not caring either way. Human or elf, it didn’t matter to her who ruled the land so long as she was free. She told Imodel as much, and Imodel smirked.
“And how do you expect to win your freedom, then?” said Imodel.
Calain hesitated. “What do you mean? I am no longer chained, am I?”
“But you are still a rebel and an enemy of the queen,” said Imodel. “You cannot stay in Eriallon. Neither of us can.”
Calain glanced down unhappily, knowing that Imodel was right. She picked up a pebble and idly chucked it at the stream, lightly splashing them both. “I wish I had never met Zelda,” she said, squinting off at the distant pine trees on the lower pass.
“You don’t mean that,” said Imodel.
Calain scowled. “How can you know?” she asked sarcastically.
Imodel was smirking. “The way you sucked your mouth upon my sex? That passion and yearning was not for me.”