Fun in the camp.

Deciding to wander some more before you turn in for the night, you pass by a communal tent a short way off from Kara's, the sound of revelry and familiar voices spilling from the other side.

Peering inside you see Solla, as well as a few other warrior women you recognise from your expedition last year. The ladies are clustered around a table, enjoying a drink and the companionship of their sisters in arms before the battle tomorrow.

At Solla's right hand side you notice Sritti, the scout you'd fucked, and who had put you and Donald on the Lady of the Mountain's trail.

“Edwa- Your Majesty, I mean!” Solla catches herself, grinning at you as she becomes aware of your presence. “To what do we owe this honour?”

“Oh, no reason. I was simply... passing by.” you assure her.

“Would you care to join us? The girls and I were just having one last ale before we turn in.” the southerner asks. You're not about to refuse, and as you limp to the bench beside them, the other Beathan women seem only to happy to be in your presence.

“Been some time, Majesty.” Solla remarks, as she pours you out a rather generous ale. Your mind can't help but go back to that time in Sinnabarrow, or your tryst in the waters of the spring before that. You wonder if Solla is thinking of the same encounters.

“Quite. I hope the past few moons have been kind to you, the war notwithstanding.”

“It's been rough, I'll admit. The forces from the Spring? I'm now technically in command of them.” the southern warrior tells you.

“Really?” you slur.

“It's true. Jana is Queen of Beatha now, and far too busy for her old duties. We still fight on her order in the battles, no? But as for our day to day, I'm the one calling the shots.”

“And doing a bang up job, chief!” Sritti interjected, to murmurs and coos of agreement from the other warrior-women. “Never thought I'd see an outlander take so fuckin' well to our ways!”

“You're too kind, Sritti.” the dark-skinned southerner says diplomatically.

You sip your ale, the conversation bouncing around a number of topics. From thoughts of peacetime, to matters more carnal. The women gathered around you laugh in disbelief, as you're able to confirm their new leader's seemingly far-fetched story of a painting of her naked hanging in the Sinnabarrovian royal palace.

One ale in time turns into two, and then three. Before too long, you find yourself stumbling from the drinking tent, interlinked with Solla.

“You're my prize now, Your Majesty!” the southerner laughs, seizing her arms around you as you trudge through a light dusting of snow to her tent. “According to my tribe's rules, I'd be well within my rights to do whatever I desired with you.”

You had to admit that right now, that didn't sound entirely too bad.

Slipping inside, you remove your clothing, your darker attire much finer and well-tailored than any Beathan noble. Solla in turn strips out of her steel armour, baring herself to you, fully aware of the reaction her naked flesh will stoke in you.

You draw closer to her wordlessly, your cock growing harder as you come close enough to touch her.

The warrior-woman finds her knees, looking up at you as she closes her finger around the base of your manhood.

“Mmhm, so nice to see this again!” Solla says in a lilting tone. “There's something so... alluring about you, Edward.”

You weren't sure if the foreigner was referring (unwittingly of course) to your demonic heritage, or just your royal pedigree. Still, you weren't about to complain. Bringing you to her lips, Solla began to worship you with her tongue, slowly at first, but increasing in pace as she brought her lips further and further down your length.

Your breathing growing heavier, you shifted your weight, and placed your good hand firmly on the back of her head, brushing up against the dark-skinned woman's voluminous curls. You pushed gently on Solla's head, prompting her to suck you just that little bit harder.

She continued on this manner for several minutes, you positioning yourself on the edge of the bed so you could be pleasured in a more comfortable manner, before pulling back, a string of saliva trailing from the tip of your prick to her full, kissable lips.

“Enough of this, eh? I need you now.” Solla says, in an almost ravenous tone, clambering onto the bed with you. You're only too happy to oblige the warrior-woman, laying back and letting her straddle your hard cock.

Taking the lead in your encounter, Solla rides your prick hard. You stare up at her, your hips thrusting up in an almost involuntary manner. You can sense just how much she's needed this. Spending most of her time amongst women, her options must surely be limited. When it comes to cock, at least.

You did your best to hold off, wanting to ensure that the southerner came as well. The women you encountered up in Beatha were usually different, more sexually aggressive than the meeker ladies of your kingdom. You preferred it, if anything. Reminded you of your mother, your aunts, Corinne.

Several minutes pass, and you find yourself growing closer. Suddenly, your attention is drawn from Solla, towards a sound from towards the mouth of the tent. Someone's inside, watching the two of you rut. Evidently, they were enjoying themselves a bit too much, as you'd just heard a tender, feminine moan from them.

Solla hears it too. Wasting no time, she dismounts you, striding confidently towards the source of the noise.

“Someone likes to watch, eh?” She barks, seizing the intruder by the scruff of the neck and dragging them inside. The naked commander hurls them to their knees before the bed. It's Sritti.

“Explain yourself, scout.” the ebony-skinned war-mistress demands.

“I'm sorry, mistress!” Sritti protests. “It's just, I saw you and Edward-”

“His Majesty.” Solla reminds her.

“I saw you and His Majesty goin' off, and I thought... well, I just wanted to see the two of you. I'm so fuckin' randy, Solla, I-”

“Enough.” Solla tells her, arms folded.

“Well, Your Majesty.” she continues, looking from the red-faced scout to you. “Normally I'd deal with this one myself, but since she took it on upon herself to spy on you, well, perhaps you can decide what form of 'punishment' is most appropriate, eh?”

You quite like the sound of that.