The Pirate and The Wish, Part 3: Return to Teleptafelya

Aelene

The trip to Teleptafelya with the Heart-Taker clan is proceeding as well as can be expected. War Marshal Reeza is a decent ruler when the orc curse is not acting up. Mattie, Glitterdust, Honey, and herself are all traveling as guests. They have business to attend to. In fact, only one person seems unhappy with the road. That one person is, of course, chained to Reeza’s throne, heavy with an orc egg embedded in her.

“Please, sister, help me escape. Or at least get me some clothes,” Phaedra begs, not for the first time.

And, not for the first time, Aelene responds, “If the positions were reversed, would you show me such mercy?”

Perhaps Phaedra tired of the circular conversation, perhaps she decided that the truth will set her free when flattery fails, but she answers differently, “Fine. I wouldn’t. But my place is supposed to be above you. If the world was right, you’d be chained up here and I’d be surrounded by skanks and boytoys on Harem Hotel.”

Aelene snarls a little at that, but manages to remove the emotion of her voice well enough to say, “I much prefer the company of my sister-in-law than yours, Phaedra. And, if you want out of those chains, all you have to do is acknowledge your marriage to her. Simple, really.”

“Like that brutish, smelly greenskin futa bitch is worthy of marrying ME! And not even as the subservient wife, to boot! ME, under HER rule? A…” Phaedra cutting off the rant likely means one thing. Reeza grunts as she moves to sit on her throne. Phaedra tries to pull away, only to be forcibly placed in the orc’s lap. The orc pats Phaedra’s round belly.

If the orc is offended, she does not show it, asking, “Arbancano Aelenetheria, have you had a good visit with my wife?”

“As good as can be expected, War Marshal. I wish you would allow her a little more freedom, though.”

“She has caused a lot of trouble before I chained her. Once she is ready to willingly do her duties, she will be granted more privileges. Do you wish to be a good girl today, my cuddly little egg incubator?”

The way Phaedra scowls at Reeza’s cooing indicates that she isn’t ready. Aelene sighs, unsure exactly what to do. Given how orcs usually tend to their breeding stock, Phaedra is being treated unusually well. While she is being treated somewhat cruelly, it is better than how her sister treated Mopsie.

Aelene turns around to go check on the others, only to see Honey buzz into the throne room caravan. The nehtaliante, looking much shinier since her youth was rejuvenated, has a pile of paperwork in hand. She certainly jumped into being Lady Tyalangan’s barrister quickly and readily. “War Marshal, do you have any further questions concerning the pact you have made with the Copse-Wood throne?”

Aelene listens to the conversation. The War Marshal understands the agreement well enough, but tries to negotiate for better terms even now. Again, Reeza is a competent leader looking out for her people. Honey is, of course, a stickler to the terms already agreed upon. Aelene notes a few points worth revisiting if the initial settlement is successful. Lady Tyalangan may wish to reward a well-followed compact with better terms and starting by relieving pain points already brought up is a good idea. The two wrap up the conversation and Honey turns to leave, nodding at Aelene when the barrister notices that she stayed.

“You could have participated in the conversation more overtly, Ms. Copse-Wood,” Honey drones as the two prepare to cross over to the caravan they were given to use as guest quarters. The nehtaliante, of course, just flies over the gap. Aelene has to jump, but the gap is not too much. The horses are well trained, so Aelene bounding to the platform in front of them does not spook them. The caravan keeps it’s pace.

“I didn’t want to make it seem like we were ganging up on the War Marshal, good barrister.”

Honey considers Aelene’s answer, “That is a valid point.”

Aelene opens the door to the caravan. The sounds of lovemaking from within fill the air. Aelene sighs a little as Honey just nonchalantly enters. Soon, the four of them are inside, with Glitterdust’s tail hilted deeply into Mattie’s wormhole.

“Don’t either of you have better things to do right now than sex?”

Mattie answers (between pants and moans) while continuing to ride Glitterdust’s tail, “Not really, Aelene. Hard for me to negotiate for metal shipments or survey for infrastructure improvements when we have not gotten to this town yet. And Sparkles here is only looking for financial investment opportunities to help, you know, pay for kids? Again, that ain’t happening until we get there. Any idea how much longer we’ll be on the road?”

Honey patiently waits for the two to come down from their orgasms before she replies, “From my data collection, we should arrive at Teleptafelya by tomorrow mid-afternoon, assuming we continue traveling at this pace.”

Mattie cocks an eyebrow. Honey answered the unasked question, “I have been conversing with some of the orcs during rest periods. I am curious about many things.”

“You could have asked ME! I know many things!” Glitterdust exclaims, still rubbing herself.

“True, Sparkles, but Blue can ask you stuff any time. She can’t ask these orcs questions whenever. So, what else you learn?”

As everyone settles in to listen to Honey, Aelene takes a moment to check her phone. She knows it’s a bit rude, but she is missing Lady Silmerana. She hopes her reunion with her mother and her community goes well; they should be there shortly. A couple of quick texts for her two loves, and she starts to pay better attention.

Ellyjoybell Flabblestabble

It’s been a few weeks since the siege has been over and calls from the castle have resumed. Aranel Tyalangan and Arbancano Aelenetheria have returned (the former with several additional fiancés). And, if rumor speaks true, the elven princess and her entourage slew hundreds in a few days to break The Hunger.

Ellyjoybell sits in the mayor’s office, preparing for another day at Teleptafelya. Her tea is steeping. Her lunch awaits for her to take a moment to eat it. And the piles of invoices and other papers is not quite to her chin level. All in all, a lazy morning.

Then, one of the guards barges in. “Ma’am! Orc raider caravan, heading straight for us!”

“Get the entire town guard to the entrance of the town! I’m calling the Queen!” Panicking, Ellyjoybell stumbles to call the office of the Knight-Commander. The conversation with the officer there is brief, but calming. The Knight-Commander is going to be here soon. Maybe she’ll get here before the orcs? Perhaps with enough forces to repel them without needing to start a pitched battle? We still haven’t recovered from the harpy attack.

The little deep gnome heads out to stand behind the town guard, or, at least, the few that survived the harpy attack. The only new recruit was the one provided by Aranel Tyalangan, the siren Airika. She has proven to be quite the competent fighter. While it is rude to ask of such things, Ellyjoybell suspects that Airika might be Level 3. Hopefully, with her in the lead, the guard can repel the orcs without a huge number of casualties.

Then, between the legs of the tall, lithe Airika, she sees the size of the orc caravan. We are in trouble, REAL trouble. Please, Arbancano Aelenetheria, get here soon!

Honey

Honey stares out of the caravan’s lookout position to see the guard arrayed against them. She drones, “It appears the locals have not been informed of the nature of our arrival, Ms. Copse-Wood.”

Ms. Copse-Wood sighs, the scent of her irritation mild, but detectable. “Honey, can you carry me?”

“Not for a particularly long flight, but I can attempt the requested feat.”

“Then, let us go to the head of the caravan before you pick me up.”

The two exit the caravan car and Honey buzzes over the gap between it and War Marshal Reeza’s throne car, which is placed at the head of the caravan. The War Marshal is busy on the phone, trying to ensure her troops do not treat the potential hostility as an excuse to ransack the town. Ms. Copse-Wood climbs the ladder to make herself visible on the roof of the caravan. Honey buzzes up beside her. The high elf shouts, “Stand down, troops! The orcs are friendly!”

The troops, either disbelieving their senses or thinking the Knight-Commander insane, stand their ground. “Fly me over, Honey.”

Honey struggles to lift the high elf, but manages it. She strains to get her slowed down enough to not be injured by the time she lands. Even so, Ms. Copse-Wood has to tuck and roll for the last foot or so, as Honey (to her shame) drops the elf. Still, Ms. Copse-Wood is running as soon as she gets on her feet. Honey buzzes after her.

The guards are scared. The gnome hiding behind the guards is terrified. Ms. Copse-Wood announces, bellowing out, “I am Arbancano Aelenetheria, eldest daughter of Kaelisterie, 47th Queen of the Copse-wood Throne. I order you to stand down!”

The caravan comes to a halt, stopping just shy of hitting the high elf Knight-Commander. Honey lands beside her harem-sister, paperwork already summoned from her inventory.

“If I may address the mayoress, one Ms. Flabblestabble, I have decrees from her royal majesty, Tari Kaelisterie?” Honey holds out the rolled parchments, hoping this Ms. Flabblestabble is present.

The scared gnome steps forth. “What manner of monster are you, creature? Did you bewitch Arbancano Aelenetheria? Answer me?”

“Hello, Ms. Flabblestabble, I presume. I am Honey, no legal last name, Esquire, a nehtaliante. I am representing the interest of the crown as a Royal Barrister. Ms. Copse-Wood is in complete control of her faculties. Do you have any other questions I can address before you accept the copies of the Queen’s decree?”

The gnome looks... perplexed. “No? Just give me the decrees.”

Honey presents the paperwork. The gnome unfurls them, one at a time, and scans each. By the time she finished, she’s already on the phone, yelling and screaming as she walks away. Honey follows. She needs the mayor to sign some paperwork to acknowledge receipt.

Airika Ysgarlad

The mayor has been defeated by paperwork. The other guards, all drow, stand about, confused. Airika has a hand on the pommel of her rapier, eyeing the Knight-Commander. “Soooooo, where’s the princess?”

“<Back at court, pirate,>” the high elf snarls in Sylvan, “<You are coming back with us. Either you can do so willingly, or we expose your secret. Is that understood?>”

“<Aye. Bitch.>” Airika squawks back. Soooo, the princess delegated picking me up to the highfalutin’ elf bitch. I thought I’d be able to just join in. Belt it. Time to cut my losses? And there is the dragon, so flying away is probably not an option. Belt it again. Who’s the other elf?

The other elf, clad in a real sexy leather getup, saunters up and pops a hip out as she stands by the Knight-Commander. “Oh, hi, Polly. Name’s Mattie. I guess you two know each other? Wanna cracker?”

Polly? What kind of reference is Polly? “While I am a vegetarian, I only eat hardtack when I have to. Now, I could devour a papaya right now, if you got one of those.”

“I hear that, I guess? Wanna show me around? I’m looking to work out some metal trade for some improvements to the castle and some personal projects.”

“Sure. If that’s okay with her.”

The snooty noble snorts, “Just keep an eye on her, Mattie. I should assist Honey with the ‘Duchess’ situation.”

So, Airika leads this Mattie to Firedamp, the overseer of the mine. She catches this Mattie checking out her tail feathers as the two walk. If I’m gonna get a fair shake, I should stick to this one like glue.

Aelene

Aelene escorts her sister-in-law, Reeza, to the mayor’s office. Honey has texted that the mayor has accepted the Queen’s decisions and will call a town meeting this evening to share the news. Aelene hopes that the people here will see the merit in her mother’s and betrothed’s wisdom in this situation. Things may turn ugly otherwise. Reeza had the good sense to order her tribe to stay out of town in the meantime; Aelene is relying on Glitterdust, the “mighty dragon” that saved a bunch of the townsfolk during their last visit, to supervise the horde.

The mayor is less cordial than last time Aelene was here; her coldness is somewhat understandable. It’s not everyday your town is given over to what most would consider a monstrous race.

“Arbancano Aelenetheria, your mother has placed me in a very precarious position. If my people do not accept our new ‘Duchess,’ then the mines may close for an extended period of time. That serves neither of us well. You understand the situation?”

Aelene sighs. She understands that raising Reeza to the nobility and granting her land was the most efficient way to ensure that the orcs civilize, but there will be growing pains, both for the orcs themselves and Reeza’s new subjects. If it was not for the fact that Teleptafelya needs a new regiment of guards to replace the ones lost to the harpy attack, Aelene would have insisted on giving the orcs land for a new settlement instead. But Lady Tyalangan noted that, if Reeza’s goal is to integrate orcs into civilized society, they actually need to be around the other species. Whether integrating them by placing the War Marshal in charge of an entire settlement, one important for the long term defense of the realm, is a good idea remains to be seen.

At least the “Duchess” is sensible. “Mayor, I wish to prove that my people are worthy of being considered civilized. That we just have our quirks, like every other species. My clan with provide protection and additional muscle for the mines. They will remain in control.”

“We shall see, won’t we, ‘Duchess?’”

Mattie

Mattie and her new potential friend watch as her order from the mines is loaded up on the cart the gang is taking back to the capital. Polly seems fun. Mattie doesn’t get what exactly Nerves has against the siren; she does get that Sarge asked her to watch out for her. Nerves has been a little more high-strung since we’ve got back to her world. Maybe Sarge should talk to her about chilling out? Still...

“Overseer Firedamp is kind of a cutie.” Mattie comments to the bird-girl beside her.

“Yeah, she is. Frigid in bed, though.” Polly chuckles.

“Sooo, while they get our first order loaded up in the cart for us, what do you want to do?”

“Sex?”

“No can do. Polycule rule. Only sex with the ladies inside it.”

“Add itching powder to Ms. Prim-n-Proper’s panties?”

That makes Mattie laugh, “That’s probably counter-productive, if you wanna make Aelene like you. I can take a prank or two, she can’t.”

“Oh, I don’t care about if she likes me. Now, if pranking Ms. Prim-n-Proper will hurt my chances with Harper, then I’ll care.”

Interesting. Wonder what the motivation is... “Guess Sarge made an impression. Care to share?”

“Saved my life. I owe her. And I hate owing anyone anything. Plus, she’s hot.”

“I can’t speak to what she did here, but that last bit is certainly true. She saved my life, at least twice. So, I get you. Have you met Sparkles?”

“Oh, I remember the dragon.”

Sparkles, having either finished her job “supervising the orcs” or just got bored, meanders over, “Hello! I believe you were talking about ME! I am a big, sexy dragon!”

Mattie musses with Sparkles hair. The astral elf finds it curious that the dragon still is wearing that collar. I mean, it is right and proper for Sarge’s pet dragon to only be wearing the collar, but still, she could bust out some variety, right? Nerves and Blue exit the town hall, and are moving towards them, too. Reeza, is beginning a speech to assuage the townsfolk that the orcs mean to live in peace with them. Mattie hopes it goes well.

“What’s the damage, Aelene?”

“We head out at first light. You got what you needed, Matilda?”

Mattie nods, “Yeah, pretty much. Should have a regular stream of metal for my tinkering, plus, once I figure out the technical aspects, I should have some prototypes for the miners to test. I hope some extra efficiency would do them some good here. Here, Sparkles, are the data you wanted for investment considerations.”

The dragon takes the stack of paper and begins to go through it. Honey is heading to the inn to secure the five of them a room. And Aelene is staring daggers at Airika. “She give you trouble, Matilda?”

“No ma’am. Airika here has been as close to a perfect lady as I could expect.”

“Good.”