Meeting the Day.

Gawain's eyes stared into Elariel's, lost in those emerald green pools, confusion racking his brain, the cogs of his mind turning over and over what he had seen as he slowly sits up, his head leaving the comforting warmth of her thighs.

"Did you... see someone, in the pond?" Gawain croaks rubbing his throat as he looks over his shoulder at Elariel, the elven woman sitting on her feet, legs folded under her and her hands folded in her lap, looking equally as confused as Gawain.

"No Gawain, what do you mean?" She asks, brow furrowed as she looks at him with a worried expression.

Slowly Gawain rises, with uncertain feet. Elariel following suit and standing quickly, moving to his side to support him, his strong arm draped over her slender shoulders, a delicate elven hand pressing against his chest as she looks into his face with curiosity, marred with equal parts of concern.

"It doesn't matter, I'm fine now." Gawain shakes his head, "I shall take your advice, Lady Elariel. I believe I do need some rest" he sighs with heavy shoulders, offering her a weak smile.

"Y-yes... you do" she mutters, a flush creeping across her cheeks as the young human knight steps out of her embrace, checking over his gear before offering her a gracious bow, not too low so as to be mocking, but not to quick as to be without meaning.

She watches him go, the flush never leaving her cheeks as she purses her lips, eyes following the strapping knight as he returns to the camp slowly, head hung low in thought. With a soft sigh the Lady Elariel pulls her shirt up and over her body taking careful steps into the warm pond as her beautiful, pert breasts bounce free on her chest, pink nipples hard against the nightly breeze. Slowly she hugs herself, pressing them together as her nipples brush against her forearms, sinking to her knees her head falling low, hair shrouding her blushing face.

"Why can I not stop my heart from pounding" she sighs, pressing a fist to her chest. Memories of the voices from the tavern flooding back to her, cheeks burning with shame as she slowly snakes a hand between her legs, parting her pink labia, and rubbing over her hooded clit. She bites down on her lip as the sounds of Lucy's moans flood her ears once more, her mind clouded by that annoying man's fierce blue eyes and strapping, handsome face.

Her own moans betray her, slipping between her lips as the water ripples around her graceful elven body. Her hips hump her hand as she pumps two fingers inside her tight depths, the heat and wetness of her slit mixing and churning the water of the pond around her, her thumb working over her clit as her body burns with shackled desire.

"G-Gawain!" she moans as quietly as she can, her head thrown back in the moonlight, hair swishing through the water casting crystal-like drops through the air as her body bends backword in untamed release. Her teeth biting down hard on her lips, her tits bouncing on her chest delightfully as the water splashes subtly around her, erotic juices gushing out into the pond as her orgasm overtakes her.

'Why... why does he make me feel like this...' She asks herself, tears of wanton desire beading in the corners of her eyes, frustrated fury bubbling under her skin as she struggled to make sense of what she felt in her mind, and what she wanted in her heart.

***

The rest of the night passed without incident. Gawain tossed and turned in restless sleep, struggling to process what he had been shown, and who that creature was. Peter slept peacefully through the night, Elariel deciding to take on his watch and save the young boy from an early rise, much to his annoyance of course, having felt this was unfair on Elariel. Not that she minded.

The rest of the day passed quickly, Elariel scouting out the surrounding woods for danger whilst Gawain and Peter sparred in the grove, hoping to brush up on Peter's swordsmanship before the fight. Though Gawain's silence had not gone unnoticed.

The two friends sat down on a fallen tree beside their camp, panting as sweat dripped from their brows, the sun already high in the sky for they had been practicing all morning, Peter finally getting a handle on the idea of parrying his opponents blade.

The young boy rubbed the sweat from his forehead, taking a hefty drink from his waterskin in an effort to quench his thirst. With worried eyes he looked over to his Lord, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the fierce but distant look in his eyes. Even during training he seemed especially ferocious, at least more so than Peter was used to receiving from his old friend.

"My Lord... if what I said yesterday has caused you disquieting thoughts, please think nothing of them. I apologise for doubting you, it will not happen again" He offers, voice unsteady as he runs a hand through his messy hair, untying his ponytail to let his charcoal locks hang down around his shoulders, grey eyes downcast in shame.

"Do not apologise for offering me fair council, Peter" Gawain sighed, his hand resting on the young boys shoulder, gripping it tightly as his face took on a stern expression, "I hope you always do so, for I will never doubt your loyalty to me. I merely have other things on my mind"

"Lady Elariel?" Peter asks softly, leaning forward curiously, a look of bewilderment immediately twisting Gawain's brow as he takes his hand away.

"What? No!" Gawain shakes his head quickly, before the memory of Elariels soft hands betray him.

"Miss Lucy then?" Peter asks with a genuine innocence as perplexed look occupies him.

"NO. Peter, it has nothing to do with a wom... well..." Gawain sighs again, a heavy one that seems to deflate him as he scratches his trimmed beard, and folds his arms across his broad chest, "It has nothing to do with either of them, what it is that clouds my mind I cannot say until I understand it better" he adds through frustrated lips.

Peter nods pinching his own chin as if understanding something Gawain does not, "Hm, is there anything I can offer, my Lord?" he asks standing up from his seat and turning to face Gawain, a serious expression etched upon his features.

"No Peter, unfortunately this is something I must figure out myself" Gawain shakes his head solemnly, hands on his knees as he mulls in thought.

"Then a change of topic perhaps? Will you ask Miss Lucy for her hand? She would make a fine bride I am sure. The Lady Yara would be most pleased with her, especially her voice, she would be quite the sight to behold at the next feast, no doubt you would be the envy of many” Peter suddenly offers with a warm, encouraging smile, thumbs hooked in his sword belt as Gawain looks up at him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Sure of that are we? And how is it you know of Miss Lucy and I?" Gawain asks, a coy smile on his face as he stands to face his squire, standing a fair bit taller than the boy.

Peter chuckles nervously holding his hands up in front of himself, "You forget we grew up together, my Lord, I know when you have bedded someone, that spring in your step in unmistakable"

Gawain flashes a devilish grin as he steps towards his slowly retreating Squire. Peter laughing as he waves his hands trying to ward him off. "B-But this time seemed different!" He offers quickly with a stammer, wide grin still stuck to his face, "You seemed lost in thought for some time before we even got here"

Gawain pauses suddenly, eyes widening briefly as he slowly rubs the back of his neck, looking away from Peter and off into the treeline. "Aye, you have it right. And I do intend to marry her, yes." Gawain nods, looking back to Peter, "Henry will likely be married off to one of Princess Danika's courtier's, Gerhard most likely will marry one of the daughters of the local lords to secure an alliance close to home, so I have more freedom to marry whom I chose, and besides, father's first bride was the daughter of Anhalt's blacksmith" he explains, more to himself than to Peter.

"Indeed, you do seem more caught up with her than any other maiden you have taken to bed" Peter muses as he looks up at the sky, before suddenly realising his words and paling as his eyes snap back to Gawain.

Gawain suddenly lunges for the boy, making to tackle him to the ground with a smile on his face, Peter laughing as he tries to dance back. But seemingly out of no where they are snapped out of their playful banter by the hissing voice of Elariel as she steps between them.

“Enough! Both of you.” She snaps in a low voice, glaring at them. “The goblins are closer than we previously realised. A mere hours stride from the far side of the cliff face will bring us to the border of their camp.” She explains, hand on the hilt of her sword, her eyes flicking between the two as Peter looks down with embarrassment. Gawain stands in silence, looking off in the direction of the Goblin camp.

“Apologies, Lady Elariel... but do you have a plan?” Peter asks tentatively.

“That I do, if we attack at night it should be easier, we can sneak into camp and eliminate their chieftain, hopefully their shaman as well. Deprived of leadership most will flee. However...” She trails off, a flash of nervousness crossing her face.

“However what?” Gawain asks in a flat tone, crossing his arms once more.

“There is a Black Hob amongst their number leading the other Hobgoblins” Elariel’s voice is like ice with it’s seriousness. The depth of the problem dawning on everyone present.

“Fuck.” The young men say in unison.