A Request Before Departing Raseyne

A bright, mischievously malevolent light dances across Beryl’s grinning face, those long and pointed ears of hers wiggling with more than mere amusement as she looks her Draconic lover up and down.

Krvavy meets that evil Elf’s gaze with an utterly unimpressed glare.

“Wha~?” Beryl tries, and fails, to look innocent. She doesn’t even bother to hide her smug grin, instead stepping closer and brushing her fingers against the fluffy pink fabric draped over that Drakling. “Isn’t this bathrobe comfortable~?”

That playful mocking sees Krvavy’s stare turn into a scowl, blood-red brow knitting together as pale lips press into a thin line. Without a word, she reaches over and hooks her fingers into the top of the towel tightly wrapped around her tanned tomboy’s toned torso. A light and gentle tug is all it takes for that absorbent fabric to fall down to the floor.

Not that that bothers Beryl even one bit.

“Oh~?” The Wood Elf woman stands there naked and proud, her slightly damp skin still glistening after their shower. “Did ya want ta ogle me, or are ya just bein’ a little petty~?”

Rather than respond with words, Krvavy instead flings open her embarrassingly bright bathrobe and – in that same swift motion – lunges at the teasing tomboy, engulfing the enticing Elf in her inescapable embrace.

“Ooh~...!” Beryl all but melts as those strong arms squeeze her right up against the barbarian’s body, her face buried between some wonderfully big breasts while her own much perkier pair press into a buff belly. A shuddering shiver shoots down her spine, the tense and taut muscles in her back trembling as they lose their strength, loosening up nearly to the point of going limp. “This is comfortable~...”

“And which part are you enjoying more?” The Drakling dryly wonders, reaching down to grab at her athletic Elf’s absolutely perfect ass. “The stupid bathrobe,” she gropes and kneads the caramel coloured cheeks held in her hands, “or me~?”

“Now now, my dearest love~...” The tomboy’s tender touch goes from tracing small circles over Krvavy’s hips to trailing ever upwards, slipping beneath the arms holding her close and stopping only once she gets a good grip on those strong shoulders. “Do ya really need ta ask tha’~?” Those words serve as the only warning this grinning Wood Elf gives before she hoists herself up, lithe legs wrapping around her Draconic lover’s waist. Their noses gently bump together, lips hovering a hairsbreadth apart, as Beryl lovingly gazes into the Drakling’s emerald eyes. “It’s ya, o’ course~.”

Waves of warmth and joy wash over the barbarian, her rapidly beating heart fluttering just a bit as every last thought is brushed aside, her head left light and hazy.

Beryl’s nimble fingers lovingly glide through Krvavy’s crimson hair, combing through those slightly damp strands. After a painfully short amount of time – hardly even a minute – her caramel lips pull back and away from the pale ones that they had been so affectionately pressed up against. “Ya know~,” the light in her eyes seems to shine ever brighter, her ears happily wiggling away. “This’d be the perfect position fer a little bit o’ fun~...!”

The barbarian blinks once, and then twice, before letting out a long and slow sigh. “Was getting pinned against the shower wall not enough for you...?” She dryly asks, resisting the urge to shake her head.

“It would ‘ave been ‘ad ya filled me wit’ yer seed instead o’ wastin’ it like ya did~.” The lithe Elf cheekily returns, her crossed calves truly locking together atop the Drakling’s meaty tail, making it incredibly clear that she does not intend to leave this carried hug any time soon.

“So you’d rather have cum dripping down your thighs all day?” The question doesn’t get to hear its predictable answer, quickly getting followed by another. “Kind of defeats the purpose of having a shower in the first place, doesn’t it?”

Beryl’s shuffles and squirms just a bit, slightly inconvenienced by Krvavy’s lower horns as she tries to make herself as comfortable as she can, chin coming to rest on a black-scaled shoulder. “Still better than lettin’ it get washed away down the drain...” She lazily mumbles, relaxing so fully that it almost seems as if she is ready to fall back asleep.

Careful not to drop her clingy Elf, Krvavy turns toward the bathroom door and grabs its polished handle. With a light twist and a soft shove she pushes that barrier open and steps on through.

Only to abruptly freeze in place, her pale face flushing a deep crimson.

Rina’s amethyst eyes glimmer with amusement. “I was worried that I would miss the two of you.” The Countess idly states, her reflection looking those two cuddling lovers up and down. “We will not be able to share breakfast this morning,” she explains with a gentle smile, remaining seated at her vanity. The pink-skinned half-Elf does nothing to cover up her nude body, though the albino maid dutifully combing through her long raven-black hair does, stepping in the way of that alluring sight. “As such, this is our last chance to talk before the two of you leave Raseyne.”

The Wood Elf woman wiggles within her lover’s embrace. Those long legs of hers tighten their grip around the Drakling’s waist as she bends backwards, dexterous fingers clamping down around Krvavy’s lower horns to keep herself from falling. A wide grin swiftly finds its way onto her now upside-down face. “Oh~? Did ya want ta say goodbye in person~?”

“Of course,” the Countess calmly answers, hardly reacting to the tomboy’s teasing. The nebulous purple gemstone resting on her forehead gleams in the soft light of the room, that piece of jewellery all that dares to cover her beauty. “But I do not wish to just see you two off: I have a request for Krvavy, if she will hear it.”

“What sort of request?” The Drakling distractedly speaks up. Her brows furrow slightly as she struggles to pry Beryl’s toned thighs away from her body.

A slightly enigmatic smile plays at Rina’s already painted lips. “A job offer.”

Beryl has more than enough practice at keeping her legs locked around Krvavy’s waist, so a few grabby fingers are nowhere near enough to dislodge her. “Tryin’ ta keep us from leavin’, are ya~?” She playfully wonders, all but ignore the barbarian’s attempts to be rid of her.

“No.” Rina softly shakes her head, slightly annoying the brush-wielding maid trying to comb the long and luscious locks of her raven-black hair. “This offer is for the near future, Krvavy.” Her amethyst eyes focus on the Drakling. A glimmer of amusement still remains in those gorgeous gems, peering through a serious shimmering sheen of courtly elegance. “In over a months time I will be attending a council held in Vratsa, and I would like you to accompany me as a bodyguard.”

“Oh,” Krvavy blinks in surprise. “That sounds... important.”

“That it may, but it is not truly.” Rina’s rather poetic tone quite quickly turns plain once more. “This ‘job’ is more of an excuse to spend time with you than a request for an actual bodyguard. That said, you would still be paid fairly for your time: two crowns per week that you are away from your home, plus an additional, negotiable, amount based on your performance.”

That last bit immediately catches Beryl’s attention. “When ya say ‘performance’ are ya talkin’ about bodyguard stuff, or ‘ow well my dearest love does in yer bed~?”

“Yes.” A lively smile plays at Rina’s painted lips as that single word serves as her answer. “Take your time to consider this request, Krvavy. I do not need an answer right away. And do not worry about upsetting me by turning it down either. As I said, this is not an important job. If you wish to instead spend your time at your home with those you love, then I cannot fault you for that.”

Krvavy idly slides the pink bathrobe off of her right shoulder, letting that arm slip free from its soft sleeve. With the fluffy fabric now out of the way, she has a much easier time grabbing at her Elf’s locked ankles. “Uh... can I have a few more details?” She asks, finally finding some degree of success in prying Beryl off of her body. Emphasis on some.

“Of course.” The pink-skinned half-Elf pauses for just the briefest moment as she gives the gloved hand of her oddly tense maid a soft pat. “I will be departing Raseyne in thirty-one days, on the twenty-seventh of next month. So if you wish to indulge this request of mine, please be here in time for us to depart together. You should aim to arrive at least a day early so as to not miss me: unless there are unforeseen delays, I will be heading off just after the dawn breaks.”

“And wha’ll ya do if she’s too late? Or if she doesn’t even show up at all?” Beryl curiously asks, tilting her still upside-down head to the side. “Will ya go wit’ no bodyguard?” The tomboy’s tanned thigh brushes against the Drakling’s scale covered hip as she continues to put up just enough of a resistance to make the whole process of prying her away kind of frustrating for Krvavy.

Rina’s delicate hands gently grab onto the edge of her vanity. “No,” she plainly replies, slowly rising to her feet. “But it would pose a very minor inconvenience to me.” Her long raven-black hair falls down onto her bare back in waves, highlighting the glimpses of her vibrant pink skin seen between those silken strands. “The one who would usually fill that role, the head of my personal guard, will be unavailable at the time of this trip. He is awaiting the birth of his firstborn, and I cannot rightfully make him miss such an important event. So without Krvavy taking his place, I will need to find another.”

“Ach, are petty personal politics at play ‘ere?” A note of disdain fills Beryl’s voice as she is forced to straighten her torso, changing the odd position of her head from being upside-down to simply looking back over her shoulder. “Would yer guards get upset by who ya’d choose ta replace ‘im, all thinkin’ tha’ they should’a been the one?”

Vera’s pale pink eyes shine with a spiteful, and rather protective, triumph as she brings a lacy bra up to her Lady’s chest, ending the unrestricted view that those two guests had of the Countess’ naked breasts. That her cheeks are a soft shade of pink is surely just a consequence of being the only person in this room who is properly clothed.

“No, not at all.” Rina almost laughs at the tomboy’s assumption. Her arms gracefully slip through the straps of her bra before the albino maid secures it in place. “The second in command would simply take his place. But in doing that I would miss out on the perfect excuse to play into an aspect of my reputation that I feel the two of you have taken for granted: I am seen as exotic, at least among the Human holdings in the region. And what is more exotic than having a strong giant of a woman, a Drakling at that, as a bodyguard when meeting with other rulers who will all have some variety of knight? That Krvavy would also serve as entertainment and stress relief when away from prying eyes is simply a bonus~.”

“So ya want ta parade my dearest love around like a trophy?” A contradiction of pride and judgment underlines the Wood Elf’s words. Her incredibly mild annoyance may be exacerbated by the fact that her foot has just been made to touch the ground, meaning that Krvavy’s other hand no longer needs to hold onto her body... which in turns means that the Drakling’s strong fingers are no longer cupping her sculpted ass.

A soft sigh passes through Rina’s parted lips. “Saying ‘parade’ makes it sound a lot more interesting than it truly is.” She responds, stepping forwards into panties that match her bra with their sheer amount of decorative lace. She hardly reacts as her maid’s gloved hands gently glide up and over her thighs, dragging the slightly stretchy waistband up over the swell of her hips. “This job is one where I share the misery of dealing with petty nobles and ambitious lords, for Krvavy would have to silently stand by my side as I endure negotiations and small talk alike. All with those who hold little to no respect for me as a person. And the few who hold far too much respect for my position than is healthy.”

The barbarian blankly blinks. “You’re really not selling it very well.”

The Countess’ tone grows rather dry, and honestly a little tired. “That is why I am offering a tidy sum in payment, along with additional clothing, a full set of armour, and the promise of a copious amount of sexual relief.”

“Wait, clothing and armour?” The Drakling quickly questions, caught a little off guard by that. So much so that she nearly lets Beryl jump back onto her body in that brief moment of confusion. But, luckily, she comes back to her senses just in time, lightly flicking that tomboy’s forehead to stop just a thing from happening.

“Why yes,” a bit of energy returns to this elegant noblewoman, amethyst eyes gleaming as she drops her plush posterior back down onto that padded seat and crosses her arms, putting on a playfully haughty act. “If you were to take on the role of my bodyguard, then you would need to look the part.”

The albino maid kneels down just as her Lady lifts a leg up, making it an easy affair to cover that supple pink skin with a silken black stocking. That process then repeats for the Countess’ other leg.

Krvavy gently bites the inside of her cheek, so distracted by her thoughts that she can barely even enjoy that show. Unlike Beryl. “Oh, well...”

“As I had said before, there is no need to make your decision now.” Rina stands up once more, letting a garter belt get clipped on around her trim waist.

“Ya’ll probably ‘ave tha’ armour made in advance, right? And the clothes too?” One by one, Beryl’s fingers are gently pried away from the Drakling’s horns. A detail that this Elf herself seems to hardly notice. “So will they all go ta waste if she doesn’t take tha’ job?”

“No, no, no.” Rina smiles widely and warmly, stepping forward into what appears to just be the first layer of the dress that she’ll be wearing today. “I will hold onto them, if that were the case. After all, Krvavy is bound to visit me again at some point in the future, and it would be wise for me to keep some gifts at hand so that I can entice her into fulfilling some other request of mine~.”

“Oh~?” The teasing tomboy’s long and pointed ears bounce up and down, making her excited amusement more than obvious to all around her. “So ya plan on bribin’ my dearest love wit’ clothes~? And by givin’ them ta ‘er instead o’ just takin’ off yer own~?”

The half-Elf’s own ears wiggle as well, though not quite as energetically. “Who is to say that I would not do both?”

“Tha’ so~?” A worryingly smug grin spreads across Beryl’s face as she steps away from the Drakling and leans in towards the Countess. “In tha’ case, ‘ow about ya~...”

Vera’s glasses slip down her nose just a little as her face scrunches up into a scowl. She is, quite clearly, not happy about the naked Elf whispering some undoubtedly degenerate words to her Lady.

The Countess’ painted lips spread into a subtly seductive smile as her amethyst eye’s once more meet Krvavy’s own in the mirror. The intensity of her stare sends a shiver down the Drakling’s spine. “Now that is something which I will have to keep in mind~.”

“Ah’ve got many more words o’ advice,” Beryl lets herself get shooed away by the albino maid, “but Ah think tha’ ya’ll be able ta figure most o’ them out yerself~. My dearest love isn’t the most complex o’ women~.”

“Like you’re any better...” Krvavy lightheartedly grumbles, grab her Elf by the shoulder. “Now come on, get dressed already.”

A pair of bright blue-green eyes turn towards the Drakling. “Wha’, so tha’ ya can be the only naked one in ‘ere~?”

The barbarian blandly and blankly glares back at her sweet berry.

“I suppose that now is as good a time as any to say goodbye.” Rina interrupts the lovers’ impromptu staring contest, speaking even as a full corset is placed around her waist. “Have a safe journey home, and I hope to see the both of you again someday soon.”

“Haahhh...”

Krvavy glances at the tanned tomboy walking by her side, brow faintly furrowed and eyes narrowed into slightly suspicious slits. “You’re not trying to trick me into carrying your bag as well, are you?”

“Nah,” Beryl gently shakes her head, “gimme at least a day or two before Ah try tha’~.”

A ghost of a smile plays at Krvavy’s pale lips. “Now come on, you knew that having to carry all of this stuff was the price you’d have to pay for tagging along.” She warmly ‘scolds’ that wily Wood Elf.

Beryl’s brings a hand up to her barely covered chest, dexterous fingers splayed out across her skimpy leather strap of a top. “Ah’m just a delicate lil’ Elf though~.” She bats her eyelashes and leans close to her big softy of a barbaric lover. “Ya can’t expect me ta carry such an ‘eavy load fer days on end~. It’s not like Ah’m a beast o’ burden~.”

“Don’t try to weasel out of this.” The Drakling’s tone goes flat and exaggeratedly deadpan, even as she continues to subtly smile. “You have more stamina than I do.”

The tanned tomboy dismissively waves that truth away. “Tha’ is just a number. And ya’re catchin’ up ta it as well... Tsk,” Beryl clicks her tongue, “why’re ya even bringin’ tha’ up? Ya’re more than twice as strong as me~! My legs’ll give long before my lungs do!”

Krvavy quirks her brow. “Your bag isn’t that heavy.” She plainly points out.

Beryl peers up at that towering barbarian, whose wrists are about as thick as her biceps. “It isn’t tha’ ‘eavy fer ya.”

A shrug serves as Krvavy’s only answer to that, the rather weighty bag on her back lifting up and then thumping back into the base of her tail. Which isn’t exactly the most comfortable... “But really,” Krvavy pushes all of that aside, a tinge of concern entering her voice. “What was that sigh about? Happy about leaving the city?”

“Aye,” the Wood Elf slowly exhales, that bit of relief matched by her barbaric lover. “It’s like a weight ‘as been taken off o’ my shoulders. Not fer real, sadly, but it almost feels like it.”

“You know, I would love to call you dramatic, but... I know what you mean.” Krvavy grabs her sweet berry’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “It felt crowded and stuffy, like the whole city is looming above just casting its shadow and watching... Kind of weird, really. It isn’t actually that crowded, unless we’re in a market, and I can see the sky if I ever want to just look up.”

“It’s the streets.” Beryl quite confidently states, her dexterous fingers interlocking with the Drakling’s own much larger digits. “Each one is a narrow pass. If ya want ta go from one place ta another, ya ‘ave ta follow the streets. Maybe ya’d be able ta cut through an alley or two, but ya’ll still be usin’ the streets. Not like the wilds, not like a forest, where ya can go wherever ya please.”

“Well,” Krvavy briefly glances back over her shoulder, looking towards the large walls standing on the horizon. “We’re not in the city anymore, even if we aren’t that far away, and we’re still using the road.”

The tips of that tanned Elf’s ears twitch, her caramel lips curling into a smile. “Ahh, but we don’t ‘ave ta.”

“I feel like the farmers wouldn’t be happy about us walking through their fields.” The Drakling dryly comments, looking over the expansive sea of golden grains resting beside this road. There are other things being grown as well, expansive plots crammed full of verdant vegetables and areas allotted for beautiful orchards, but they don’t look quite as nice as a field of wheat rippling in the wind.

“Aye, they’d be quite cross about us tramplin’ their crops.” Beryl gives her Draconic lover’s hand a soft squeeze, pulling Krvavy’s attention back down to her. “But we could still do tha’, if we wanted ta be a couple o’ arses. And tha’ is my point. We could leave the road if we wanted ta.”

The Drakling lazily shrugs her shoulders. Not enough for her backpack to budge. Not meaningfully, at least. “I mean, to be fair, we can kind of do that in the city as well.”

“Wha’, by takin’ shortcuts through peoples’ ‘ouses? By climbin’ over them? Or by just smashin’ through them?” This wonderful Wood Elf playfully rolls her bright blue-green eyes, looking almost bratty as she scoffs at that statement. “Ah feel like the consequences o’ tha’ are just a little bigger than cuttin’ through a farmers field.”

“And I feel like we’re getting a bit off topic here.” Krvavy returns, her thumb aimlessly trailing across the back of Beryl’s hand.

“Oh~?” A smug smirk finds its way onto that tomboyish Elf’s face, her pointy ears wiggling with amusement. “Didn’t realize we were ‘avin’ a proper conversation wit’ an actual topic. My dearest love, ‘as rubbin’ shoulders wit’ the Countess made ya too good fer talkin’ about wha’ever comes ta mind~?”

“It’s only been a couple hours and you’re already bringing Rina up?” Krvavy can’t help but smile as she teases her sweet berry back. “Do you miss her that much?”

“Wouldn’t ya want ta keep such a lovely woman fresh on yer mind~?” Beryl bumps her elbow into the barbarian’s side. “Especially if ya won’t be seein’ ‘er again fer a long, long time~? Oh, but Ah suppose tha’ tha’ isn’t an issue fer ya, now is it~?”

“If I take that job, sure.” Krvavy idly readjusts the strap digging into her shoulder, making it marginally more comfortable.

The tomboy tilts her head to the side. “Wha’, ‘aven’t made up yer mind yet?”

The Drakling glances down at her Elf with a single brow slightly raised. “Of course not. I’ll need to hear what all the other have to say first, and even then...”

“Ah’m sure yer brat will be quite ‘appy ta ‘ear tha’ ya aren’t just mindlessly runnin’ after tha’ seductress~.” Beryl’s blue-green eyes playfully glimmer as her other hand reaches over and grabs onto Krvavy’s arm, pulling it up against her lithe body in a clingy hug. “Instead, ya’re doin’ the much more responsible thing and waitin’ fer permission before ya do tha’~.”

The Drakling’s gaze slowly gets dragged down towards that tomboy’s pert tits, which are currently being squished and rubbed against her arm in such an enticing way... “Are you sure that Rina is the seductress?” She dryly asks, not bothering to look back up at the Elf’s undoubtedly smug face.

“Oh~? Wha’ever could ya mean by tha’~?” Beryl’s tone is far too teasing for her innocent act to even be slightly believable. “Talkin’ about Thea, maybe~?”

“Ha. Ha.” Krvavy would roll her eyes... if that wasn’t guaranteed to disturb her current view.

“Right, tha’ brat is a bit too snooty ta be properly seductive~.” The caramel coloured tomboy of an Elf purses her lips and exaggeratedly hums. “Maybe ya mean Inanna instead~? Those tits o’ ‘ers sure are eye catchin’, and tha’ is a pretty big part o’ seduction~! Oh, but she isn’t the most sensual, so maybe Khalia instead~?”