Chatting with the locals, and also a strip show

After your little heart to heart, you and Nelly decided to head into town to get some supplies for the road. Archibald, that raging asshole, had left with all of her provisions, and she seemed pretty dead set against having to forage for the entire trip. Luckily for you, you have some money in your pockets, but of course it’s not bills. That would be too easy for this goddamn fairytale land. A smattering of small silver coins was apparently all of the cash you currently had, but a quick memory refresh from examining them tells you that it’s still probably enough to buy some supplies. And while it seems likely that you have a spell somewhere in your book that could just magic up some snacks, you also have no idea where in that fucking book such a spell would be. The organization method of the spells in of the Grimoire of Arcane Arts was severely lacking, to put it politely. To put it bluntly, it was simply nonexistent.

And as soon as you wander into the general store looking for trail rations, along with a backpack to hold them, word started to get around town that the friendly neighborhood Great and Powerful Wizard was planning a trip. Not that you are particularly secretive about your traveling plans, and you have no problem chatting with the tiny townsfolk as you shop, but it was starting to seem like you were a local celebrity around these parts. Well, you knew you were a prince, of course, but it was still kind of weird to experience it firsthand. Also, you and Nelly were both around three feet taller than everyone else in town, so it wasn’t like it was hard to single the two of you out of a crowd. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before your (old?) friend Keena finds you as you leave the general store with your new bodyguard.

“Howdy again, Crofton!” she calls to you from across the village square as you leave the store.

“Hey, Keena!” you return the greeting.

A second later, and she was running right up to the two of you, elbowing several other halflings out of the way to do so. Once she reached the two of you, she looked up at you with her oversized halfling eyes, and it struck you that it was kind of hard not to think of her as a child. I mean, she was certainly shaped like an adult woman, with some nice curves even, but her diminutive size contrasted that impression quite well. And of course, she took notice of your gorgeous elven bodyguard; a woman like that was hard to miss. “Wow, who’s your new friend, big guy?”

“Right, yeah, sorry. Nelly, this is Keena. Keena, Nelly. I’m hiring her to… uh… guard me, for the trip to the castle.”

Nelly sticks out her hand for a low handshake. “A pleasure to make your aquantaince, Keena.” At least Trannellis has some manners.

Keena eyes Nelly curiously, but takes the offered hand daintily, and gives a little curtsy. “Pleasure’s all mine, ma’am.” She turns back to you, regarding you with those same inquisitive eyes. “But Crofton, why the sudden rush to get out of town? You’ve always seemed to like the country life just fine.”

You sigh, and look out over the small town from where you stand. “Yeah, this place seems great. I’d like to stay, to be perfectly honest. It’s just… I’ve got some stuff I have to take care of. Prince stuff.”

She cocks her head at you. “Prince stuff?”

You nod. “Yeah, the King… uh, my dad, passed away, and now I’ve got to deal with inheriting the throne and stuff.”

“Wait,” she replies in confusion, “You’re… you’re not just Crofton, or Crofton the Great and Whatever, but PRINCE Crofton? THE PRINCE OF THE REALM?!”

Now you were confused. Did she not know? Wait, did Crofton… er, you, oh whatever. Did they never tell her? And that’s when the memories hit you, a moment too late. Apparently, yes, Crofton never told the townsfolk of Wayshire his noble heritage. Which, now that you think about it, should’ve been totally obvious to you. After all, you knew he was lying low.

Oh great. Now you feel like a real dumbass. Also, Nelly is giggling about your slip-up, so you're embarrassed too. Shit, you hope the whole journey doesn't go like this.

It took a few more hours to make your way back to your cottage, what with all the commotion over you being a prince and all. Everyone in town had something to say about it, and most of it was said directly to your face; say what you will about halflings, but they weren't ones to tiptoe around a subject once they were curious. Also, as you remembered during all the hubbub, as a general rule halflings didn't really tend to get into politics. The machinations of the capital city and its nobility very rarely impacted their lives all that much, and so it was only with the sudden realization of their local celebrity's connection to the throne that you started to hear all their opinions; taxes are too damn high, not enough is being done to protect the Shires from orcs and the like, and your personal favorite, all of the human favoritism coming from the nobility. While that last one didn't surprise your "Wizard Brain", it seemed that halflings had a pretty good reason to stay out of the political discourse, if said favoritism was as common as they made it seem. In any case, it appeared that since you were apparently the future ruler of the land, everyone in Wayshire wanted to get in on the ground floor in terms of influencing your future policy. You were starting to think you should have just signed that damn paper.

By the time you got home, the sun was already setting. The whole day had been exhausting, and you're basically just looking forward to a lovely nights rest... followed by an early start and the beginning of your grand adventure. Ugh, even in your own head, it sounded like a hassle.

Trannellis, behind you, clears her throat as you go to open your door, reminding you of her presence. She'd been extremely quiet the whole time you were in town, so it was almost easy to forget she was always nearby. "By any chance, did you happen to have a spare bed in your home? I don't think the halfling inn would have a bed in my size."

You turn around to regard her, feeling like a total jerk for forgetting about her. Jeez, you were trying to impress this girl, and here you were screwing up already! "Ah, sorry, I've only got the one bed..."

She nods, apparently taking that information in stride, but you decide not to let the issue lie. "Tell you what: you take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor."

She looks at you quizzically, surprised by the offer. "I'll take you up on it, but are you sure? I mean, I'm the bodyguard. You're paying me."

You shrug as you open the door and snap your fingers, starting a small fire in the fireplace. "Well then I need my bodyguard in top shape, right? So take the bed, and get a good night's rest."

You head into the single room cottage you call home and sit down at the table, setting your new pack on the ground nearby. You decide you might as well get some reading done, and flip open the Grimoire to the last page you can remember reading. On the other side of the room, Trannellis makes her way to your simple bed, then reaches up and starts undoing the clasps on her leather armor. She seems to fairly flexible, having little difficulty reaching around her back to get the out of the way clasps, and within moments she's shed her boiled leather breastplate and her top along with it. You can see her bare shoulders, her pale skin glistening in the soft light of the fireplace, her bright blonde hair cascading down her back. She's wearing some sort of wrap around her modest breasts, probably to keep them from shifting too much under the armor. Practical.

...Wait, what the fuck?! Why is she stripping? You're sitting a few feet away!

You try to keep calm, and phrase your query as casually as possible. "Um... why are you stripping? I'm sitting, like, right here." Smooth!

She turns to regard you curiously, as she sits on the bed and begins to unclasp the armor on her leggings. "I sleep in the nude. Is that a problem?" The way she says it, it almost sounds like you're the one who's being weird about this.

"Uh... no?" You stare at her, silently hoping you'll have another memory flash to explain what's going on here. Nothing comes to your mind, though, even as she removes her leggings, revealing her supple, toned thighs and her flared hips to the firelight. Good lord, this woman is insane. She'd be an eight out of ten, just based on her elven featured face alone, but with those hips? And those legs? She's probably somewhere around an eleven.

"Crofton, I understand you've probably never seen a nude elf before, but don't let your intellectual curiosity overwhelm you," she states plainly as she undoes the wrap holding her breasts in place, completely misinterpreting your stares. Her wonderful breasts, probably just enough to squeeze a handful, bounce free as she does so. They're delightfully perky, and her bright pink nipples just begged to be sucked on.

And even though your eyes are firmly on her, you can't help but notice that your pants are getting a lot tighter. What's worse, with the way you're sitting right now, she can plainly see the hardening length snaking down your trousers. And she's definitely got her eyes on it. Even if following her gaze didn't prove it, the reddening blush on her face did. You sort of sit there for a while, each waiting for the other to make a move, as you both realize just how sexual the tension in the air has suddenly gotten.