19 Elowen
19 Elowen
Hope colored the mourning Queendom.
Hundreds of Mythrian citizens had gathered to see their heroes reunited. On the castle’s main balcony, Vandra and Thessia
stepped into the shadows while Elowen, Clare, and Beatrice remained in view of the reverent audience. It should have been
awkward, or agonizing. Somehow, it was peaceful. When Clare reached for Elowen’s hand, Elowen accepted. So did Beatrice on
the other side. The three raised their clasped fists to the sky as the crowd below them bowed.
This gathering was once planned as a celebration of what they had accomplished ten years ago, defeating the darkness and ushering
Mythria into a new era of prosperity. This was the anniversary of Galwell’s death. Of Mythria’s renewal. It was meant to be
the biggest Festival of the Four yet.
And now, amid flags and festival floats done up in their honor, it was the start of an entirely new quest. Elowen could not
focus for long on the emotions of the crowd because her own feelings were so potent. Beneath her sadness, and her uncertainty,
she felt something very surprising.
She was proud.
Elowen did not want the responsibility bestowed upon her. Yet, thanks to her heart healer—as well as the night she’d shared with Vandra watching over her—somewhere deep down, Elowen finally recognized she needed it. There had been an ellipsis at the end of their last quest, and for ten long years, Elowen had lived inside it, forever
waiting for what would come next.
Next was now, finding Hugh. There was a symmetry to it that satisfied Elowen. No matter what happened, she would not be solely
defined by having saved the realm ten years ago. Perhaps she’d be defined by failing to rescue Hugh, or by being eaten alive
by stingbugs. There were infinite possibilities ahead.
Which was why, when they reached the first overnighter of their new quest, the distinct anti-glamour of camping did not put
Elowen in poor spirits. Quite the opposite. The inky sky was lit by a full Mythrian moon, casting a serene glow. The grass
that grew where they intended to set up their tents for the night had a pleasant roughness to it. Exfoliating, almost. Elowen
saw all of it as an opportunity. Years alone in the trees had trained her for this. She could put to use her hard-earned patience
and her ability to make the most out of very little.
Importantly, though, she was not alone anymore. That in and of itself was a large source of excitement. Elowen had gotten Vandra to join their rescue team.
They were officially on the same side, and if all went well, everyone in Mythria—but especially Vandra’s parents—would know
Vandra as the source of good she’d always been.
“Do you have a preference for where you’d like our tent to go?” Elowen asked Vandra. She believed herself to sound very casual. In reality, she vibrated with anticipation. She’d been tired the night before, worked up by all that had unfolded.
Now she had the time and energy she needed to pay full attention to Vandra, and she was consumed with wondering if, when,
and how they would come together again.
Vandra scanned their surroundings. When she’d agreed to join the quest, she’d retrieved her beloved black horse, Killer, who now stood a few paces away, grazing. They’d picked a heavily wooded area for obvious reasons. Lots of trees meant ample cover. It did not leave them exposed to the elements, or worse, an attack. “Somewhere private,” she said, and Elowen’s heart raced faster.
What else would they need privacy for?
Beatrice trudged past them with her hands in the air, attempting to conjurate something. “The spell service here is terrible,”
she announced despairingly.
Elowen knew how to get good spell service in wooded areas. It was perhaps her greatest area of expertise. She followed Beatrice
to offer assistance, but three steps into the endeavor, she decided that was the behavior of friends, and Beatrice was not
her friend in this. They just shared a common interest, and that interest happened to be saving the realm. Evidently, someone
had to do it, and very few people had the expertise they did. Their personal politics did not need to interfere anymore. If
anything, Elowen being generous would strain them further. It would be misinterpreted somehow.
Turning back to Vandra, Elowen reworked her question. “Should we find an adequately secluded spot?”
Clare interrupted, tapping Elowen on the shoulder. “I’ve forgotten my nighttime facial oils,” he whispered.
“Have you?” Elowen asked, confused.
Vandra let out a tsk ing sound. “I told everyone to double-check their satchels before we left.”
“It’s a very small jar,” Clare protested. He turned to Elowen again, imploring her with his gaze.
“I can only sense emotions, not read minds,” she reminded him.
Sighing, he moved closer, tilting his chin up to catch the glow of the violet night. “On my forehead,” he said, directing Elowen’s attention. “There are fine lines that require treatment. Perhaps you have something comparable I could use?”
Elowen had rejected the opportunity to help Beatrice. Clare did not afford her the same choice. Placing a hand on his shoulder,
she felt his genuine despair. “I don’t use any special facial oils. I wear heavy cloaks so the sun cannot infect me with joy.”
Clare turned to go, his head hanging low.
“You’ve aged well,” Elowen called out after him. He would never appeal to her specifically, but she understood him to be a
handsome man in the same way she understood when a garment was of good quality.
Her words placated him more than she expected. He whipped back around, beaming with delight. It was entirely possible Elowen
had never given him a real compliment before. She thought of the younger Clare and how fearful he used to be of his own softness.
Now he showed it with sometimes reckless abandon, and Elowen’s heart ached for the younger man he’d once been, and how much
it would have meant to him to receive a compliment from a younger Elowen.
Ghosts. Elowen had really opened herself up more than ever before. If she wasn’t careful, she was likely to weep over something
like the cleansing of rain or the unassuming innocence of flowers.
Instead of asking Vandra a third question, Elowen took Vandra’s hand, pulling them into the comforting depths of the forest.
“Won’t you be sleeping nearby?” Clare shouted after them.
“Perhaps raising your voice isn’t the best strategy at the moment,” Beatrice reminded him, still aggravated from her search
for spell service. “And neither is splitting up from us,” she said, more to Vandra than Elowen.
“We’re not splitting up,” Elowen responded, looking some where near Beatrice’s general direction. Very businesslike. A consummate professional.
“We won’t be very far,” Vandra assured them. “If someone attacks, I will be there to rescue you within moments.”
“Oh, we don’t... I can protect...” Clare shook off his warring thoughts. “Thank you,” he said.
“Vandra and I just need some space to ourselves for the night,” Elowen explained, realizing after the fact that they’d already
resolved it and she didn’t need to provide more context.
Clare gave a look of impressed understanding. “Go on, then,” he said with a grin. “We don’t want to keep you from your fun.”
Thessia had provided them with magicked tents that required little work to assemble. The two women found a sufficiently private
location at the base of an imposing crestoak, and they opened the small contraption that held their dwelling. From it sprang
out a charmed little room, quite literally. The walls had been magicked so they could not be burnt by flame, and the floor
had a very thin layer of cushion. Though it was modest, and far from what would be considered comfortable, it still provided
more than one expected from a night of camping.
Vandra climbed inside the tent and lay on her belly. “Certainly pays to have a mission funded by the queen. Could you have
imagined such extravagance ten years ago?”
Elowen slid in after her, sealing the tent’s door closed behind them. “I recall more than one night using twigs as a pillow.”
Vandra’s eyes twinkled. “Ah, yes. So many twigs. So little time.”
There was no doubt anymore that they both had the same thing on their minds.
Now they had not just the protection of a sufficient sleeping place, but the permission to be together without hiding. There was nothing stolen between them anymore, except for the words Elowen wanted to say. They’d been robbed from her, plundered by her own uncertainty.
“Who’d have ever imagined we’d be on the same side,” she said. It was as good a place to start as any.
Vandra brushed a curl off Elowen’s cheek, closing what little space existed between them. “You know my loyalties on that job
were only to the money I was supposed to get, and I didn’t even receive it. I felt no passion for Bart’s hope to become Mythria’s
hero instead of Galwell. I’d have joined you on the last quest. All you had to do was ask.”
Elowen’s face flushed. She fumbled for purchase, stunned by the admission. As far as she understood, it had been set in stone.
It never once occurred to Elowen that Vandra’s position last time was just that—a job. One that could have changed.
Back then, she’d understood Vandra to be dangerous and deadly. Someone who worked for whoever paid the highest price. Now
she knew it was so much deeper than that. She also knew what it was like to have someone else decide who you were without
your input. She regretted how long she’d spent doing that to Vandra.
“I’m sorry I never did,” she told her.
“Worry not,” Vandra said. “We can’t change the past. And I’m sure it wouldn’t have worked anyway. I’d have taken all of Grandhart’s
sponsorships. All the songs about the Four would have been written of the Five, changing every rhyme scheme. The public would
adore me too much. It would have been exhausting.”
Elowen smiled. “I’m glad you’ve joined us now,” she said, nudging in closer. “We have fun together.”
There was that word again. Fun. The same one Lettice had used when she asked Elowen to go to the Needle. It’s what Clare had said as they’d walked away. Elowen used it now as a test, hoping Vandra would enlighten her on the meaning.
In some ways, Vandra did. She kissed Elowen lightly, letting her lips linger after she finished. “We do.”
Elowen’s mind raced. If all she had to do was ask, she needed to know the right question. “Would you...” she started. She
had to get this right. She couldn’t destroy what they’d started. It was too important to her. She needed to find a way to
do this without hurting Vandra. “Would you want to be my questmate...”
“Darling,” Vandra interrupted. “I already told you I am.”
“With benefits?” Elowen blurted right after.
“Oh.” Vandra’s eyebrows raised. She cocked her head to the side, lost in thought. That dreadful place. Elowen still had a
hand on Vandra, and she felt Vandra’s apprehension, but she knew not what caused it.
“It’s okay if you don’t,” Elowen rushed out, terrified she’d ruined this by being too forward. “I realized that I should ask,
though, since you made a rather compelling point about what I didn’t ask last time.”
Vandra rubbed her face. “I did do that, yes.”
Elowen scooted away and sat up, her back pressed against the fabric wall of the tent. “If you’d prefer we didn’t have more
fun together, I understand. We’re not who we used to be.”
“I’d love to continue having fun with you,” Vandra said. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is,” Elowen eagerly confirmed. “Very much so.”
“Then we are questmates with benefits,” Vandra said. Or asked. Elowen wasn’t sure.
To clear up the confusion, she lay down beside Vandra. “Yes,” she said with great emphasis, running a hand along Vandra’s back. Vandra curled into her then, rolling to the side so that she could nuzzle her rear into Elowen’s front.
“After all, you’ve just gone through a breakup.”
“Oh. Yes,” Vandra said, stiffening for a moment. “My breakup. That’s right.”
If Elowen didn’t know better, she’d think they were cuddling. But questmates with benefits didn’t cuddle . Surely this was just foreplay.
“Let us not think of the past. It’s better to make the most of the time we have.” Vandra pulled Elowen’s arm around her like
a blanket. “Who knows what tomorrow will bring.”
Elowen shuddered. The last quest had brought such loss. She could never withstand another tragedy of that magnitude. As she
pressed her nose into Vandra’s hair, she fought the urge to tap into Vandra’s emotions. To feel her then would be to know
too much. And questmates with benefits didn’t ruin the moment with their worries.
So Elowen held Vandra. In a casual way. Certainly not an intimate embrace alone in the wilderness, using each other’s bodies
as pillows, not just for comfort, but for safety.
Mercifully, the embrace did eventually turn lustful. Vandra rolled over. Elowen pressed her mouth atop Vandra’s with what
she hoped felt like casual desire. Like their nights together ten years ago, when they spoke with their bodies instead of
their words, distracting themselves from the constant anxiety of their daily tasks by finding solace in each other at night.
“What are your limits?” Vandra asked between kisses. “I will only do what you are comfortable with.”
Limits? Elowen wondered dimly. She flushed, embarrassed by the depth of her own desire. Her wants were untamed. “I have none,” she
answered. “Do you?”
“None,” Vandra responded.
With that, Vandra’s hands came up under Elowen’s blouse until she reached Elowen’s breasts. Elowen could not help but gasp,
feeling the depth of Vandra’s tenderness again. It stole her breath. It felt so wonderful to be touched that she pulled Vandra
closer, her hands attempting to find Vandra’s chest in return. Vandra, with her expert reflexes, put a stop to it, pinning
Elowen’s hands in capture.
“Be patient,” Vandra said. “Let me work.”
It had been ten years since Elowen had been intimate not just with Vandra, but anyone. Ten very long years closing her eyes
and imagining a moment such as this. Elowen wanted to give as much as she received, and that made her rush, trying to match
Vandra’s every action with an equal and appropriate response. She sighed, fighting the urge to resist.
“You are so lovely,” Vandra cooed as she pulled down the fabric of Elowen’s blouse to expose Elowen’s breasts in full. They
spilled out over Elowen’s bodice. “Fucking breathtaking,” she said, her fingers pinching and squeezing all the right spots.
“I want you so much,” Elowen gasped out, unable to contain herself. How could she possibly receive pleasure before giving
it, especially when she had direct access to knowing how deeply Vandra wanted her? “I’m desperate to touch you back.”
“Darling,” Vandra said, removing Elowen’s bodice, then coaxing Elowen’s top over her head.
All that remained were Elowen’s bottoms. And her shoes.
Ghosts. She still had on her shoes.
“Have you considered that your want is a turn-on for me?” Vandra continued. “That making you wait riles me up? Every second
you can’t touch me is another second I grow wetter, watching you squirm, knowing how badly you desire me.”
Elowen had not in fact considered it, and the new knowledge sparked low in her belly. She was slippery now, more than ready to receive the attention Vandra was so eager to give.
“Will you be a good girl and let me work?” Vandra teased, coming up to Elowen’s mouth to steal one more kiss there. It was
sweet, lingering, playful. So very Vandra.
“I will,” Elowen promised.
Vandra tore her way down Elowen’s body, removing Elowen’s shoes and leggings until Elowen lay completely bare. Elowen did
not feel nervous or exposed. She knew she couldn’t be. Not when she experienced how complete Vandra’s lust was. It protected
her as much as it freed her. There was no holding back. She felt deeply desired, and so full of lust that it dizzied her.
“Delicious,” Vandra said, admiring Elowen as if she were art.
She moved her mouth down until she landed on the exact spot where Elowen wanted her the most. Vandra’s tongue pressed into
the wetness, coaxing moans out of Elowen with every teasing circle. Elowen wished she could last longer, if only to draw out
Vandra’s own pleasure, but her willpower was not strong enough. She cried out, gasping as her orgasm rolled through her in
waves.
As soon as the calm descended upon her, Elowen’s focus sharpened. It was time for what she really wanted most—the privilege
of making the careful Vandra Ravenfall lose control.
They swapped places in the tent, with Vandra on the bottom, Elowen sitting on her hips. Though Vandra submitted, she never
looked away from Elowen, staring deeply into her eyes as Elowen made slow work of undressing her.
When Elowen’s curls fell into her face, blocking her view, Vandra reached up, tucking them behind her ear. “There you are,”
she said, running her thumb along Elowen’s chin.
Vandra’s clothing may as well have been poured onto her, molded to her shape with an exactness only the most skilled hand magicians possessed. Elowen relished in removing it article by article, using her hands and even her teeth to pull the fabric away, each piece bringing her closer to the glorious umber of Vandra’s bare skin.
When she had Vandra fully exposed, her desire to pleasure her was still present, but a surprising tenderness overtook her,
too. Elowen did not want to be playful. She wanted to be careful. This was delicate.
She laid herself atop Vandra, bare skin to bare skin. Though Vandra did not possess Elowen’s magic, Elowen still wanted to
send back all the warm affection she’d received. She wanted to protect Vandra, too. Their heartbeats thrummed against one
another.
“You’re so soft,” she whispered, letting her hand wander down as her mouth pressed onto Vandra’s, stealing gentle kisses.
“You feel wonderful.”
She did. Touching Vandra, pleasuring her, was indeed a wonder akin to the great natural majesties of Mythria. Elowen made
slow work of it. She pressed her nose onto Vandra’s so that every sharp breath and shaky whimper would blow against her own
skin.
Elowen had hours of this in her. She would never tire.
It was only when Vandra grew truly desperate, bucking into Elowen’s hand, that she dared to increase her tempo. When Vandra
finally fell apart, Elowen joined her, for the friction she’d created between them, lined up exactly right, had been enough
to get her there.
Or maybe it was just Vandra. She was more than enough.
In fact, to Elowen, she was everything.