A Drow's Dilemma Ep. 04: Conversation

Author's Note:

A Drow's Dilemma began as a one-on-one roleplaying project and has been converted into a chapter-by-chapter format for weekly posting with the permission and assistance from my partner. It will contain a considerable amount of sexual themes such as femdom, lesbian, straight, 'reverse' rape, BDSM, group sex, romance, and other themes. This particular chapter contains partial nudity, voyeurism, and continues to build on Ashyr's sexual frustration. The main goal of the story, however, is to tell an epic tale of adventures, gods and goddesses, fae, and nymphomaniacs. This episode and every episode to come will be available for free on Literotica for the foreseeable future.

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Episode Four: Awkward Conversations

After reminding her that she was being paid to be useful, Artur watched the drow sigh then jog off to where she saw Celeste setting up her own little space to perform. This gave the caravan leader a chuckle. "She certainly likes to stick close to our Celeste." he observed lightly.

"She does indeed. Those two are close friends." Caleldir replied. He had a strong tendency towards naivete; he did not suspect that there was anything more between Ashyr and Celeste than between him and Gurzan.

"Bad luck, eh? A lot of us wagered that it was your turn." His words were joking more than anything - though it was also true that bets were placed on who would shack up together next, so to speak. No one stayed single for long in a band of performers.

Caleldir rolled his eyes. "I am aware of the betting pools. And I would lay far heavier odds on those betting against my romantic life than those betting on it. For now, my true love is tall tales. As you are no doubt aware."

Having thus set the record straight, in his opinion, Caleldir wandered off to find Gurzan. The old half-orc was completely aromantic, having eyes only for the 'old-bird' back home, which may have been why the two of them got along so well. One was a faithful old married man, the other was too in love with romance to bother with reality.

The stolid old guard was occupied in carrying supply crates from where they were not needed to where they were, as one does. He acknowledged the younger man with a grunt. "Stay away from that Drow girl, Cal." He said after a period of silence. "There is something off about her. I feel as if she is hiding something."

"Well, so am I." Caleldir said shortly. "I am hiding many things. Few people are able to be as honest and open as you, my friend."

"I know that you do not like to talk about your past." Gurzan stated. "Your real past, that is, not your silly made-up past, but I have never doubted your loyalties. This Dark-Elf woman gives off a different impression. I do not think that she is trustworthy."

Caleldir sighed. "I want to think the best of her, but I have never known you to be wrong. I will be careful. I have avoided romantic entanglements this far." His somber expression suddenly lightened with its usual mischief. "After all, I must be faithful to my true love, the most lovely dryad Fedwen, who was my only friend in childhood. Have I ever told you the tragic tale of our star-crossed love?"

"No, " Gurzan said with amusement. "But I am sure that you will eventually give me at least seven different versions. Please, continue."

--

Ashyr found herself watching the old half-orc carefully again. She knew he was suspicious of her actions; it made the ugly guard the most sane person in the troupe, by Ashyr's estimation. She didn't want to bring further suspicion to his mind, so she waited until his back was fully turned to her before she ducked out of the presence of the troupe and found a nice alley where there were no city folk (and no Gurzan) to see her. Her action was harmless enough, and easily misinterpreted as something far more mundane. The drow, with her three decades of knowledge of surface nature, managed to lure a crow with a small hunk of flesh she had left over from the previous day's kill. She tied a piece of paper with nimble fingers and cast a weak spell upon it. The corvid flew off in a straight line into the forests of the west. She then entered back into the encampment while she adjusted her leather pants as if she was just taking care of more base business.

Then, people of the city began filtering into the garishly decorated forum, as it was getting to be a couple hours after midday. What used to be a strange and magical place in the drow's eyes quickly became a very uncomfortable and very crowded space. It was quite impossible to watch her own back under these conditions. Every tent was crowded, every wagon being used. No place to hide. No place was safe. For thirty years she always had somewhere to run within the giant expanse of forest. Ashyr was no longer used to confined spaced with which before she only put up with, at best. The drow looked increasingly agitated as she began to pick through the throng of people to find Celeste.

"Do you think you can show me to a weapons or magic shop?" The nervous drow asked. Her dark hand touched the other woman's elbow and caressed her arm downward to link hands. It was a nervous action more than anything: an attempt to find an anchor for her increasingly distressed psyche.

Celeste didn't seem to think anything of the affectionate gesture, but she did look disapproving of the request. "You know I have to stay here and entertain. Sorry, friend."

Well, if Celeste wouldn't come with her, then she would have to go alone. She supposed she could take Cal with her. He seemed nice enough. But that would deprive the troupe of two guards in one go. No one would look upon her favorably for that.

The dark elf woman rolled her shoulders in a nervous shrug and made a beeline for the nearest exit. It spat her out into the market district, and that at least was a start. At first, there were what looked to be hastily erected food stalls. The crowd around those was almost as bad as the throng within. But, as she wandered further into the district, there were fewer and fewer people about. She heaved a sigh of relief and continued onwards, more comfortable with exploring that section of the city.

It appeared to be a shopping district, and a large one compared to what she was used to. There was a certain semblance of organization to it. The south part near the heavily guarded docks consisted mostly of forges, carpentries, and other more industrial goods. Farther away were the clothiers, jewelers, glassblowers, and makers of similar trinkets. That was the part of the city that Ashyr wanted, though she could see a few grand, expensive-looking establishments to the north. Such were good places to ransack, not good places to buy things that should could afford (more or less) legitimately.

A sound made her pause at the beginning of a tight alleyway. Curiosity struck the drow and caused her to change course. Crates and boxes easily hid her approach towards where she heard the noise. She paused when she saw movement against the wall of the eastern building. Ashyr went very still and looked through a convenient space between boxes. There she saw a male human and a female halfling. The human had the halfling trapped against the wall and was... oh, was thrusting his hips up into her with a strong, quiet pace. He was grinning as he fucked her beneath the curtain of her dress. Ashyr couldn't tell the halfling's expression; the human had one hand clapped across her mouth.

The drow waited and watched with amusement until the human removed his hand from the blushing face of the halfling. Seeing her clearly, Ashyr could tell that the small woman was clearly enjoying herself. With his free hand, the human male pulled down one shoulder of the female's dress. The halfling gave him a scandalized look. Evidently, the female wasn't wearing anything beneath that loose fabric; one small, perky breast was revealed and jiggled enticingly with the motion of the human's hips. She must not have been too scandalized, or she would have fixed her dress. This seemed enough to push the human over the edge. With a couple more powerful thrusts and a low groan, he orgasmed into her. Time for Ashyr to leave.

"Who- who's there?" Came the high-pitched voice of what must have been the halfling. Ashyr winced. She had been seen. Well. Might as well make the best of the situation. It wasn't as if these two were any match for her if they were in a fighting mood.

Ashyr stepped out from her hiding place with a lecherous grin. "Caught you." She said tauntingly.

The halfling went white and scrambled away from the male. "Oh gods, you were sent by my husband, weren't you?" She looked down at herself, realized her breast was still free, and hurriedly pulled the shoulder of her dress back up.

"Shit." The male said, then took off at full speed away from Ashyr, abandoning his partner.

"Guilty as charged." Ashyr lied.

"Oh no, oh no..." The small woman said tearfully. "Don't tell him. Please don't tell him! Here: come inside my shop. I'm a chainsmith; the finest, most delicate chains in all of the county!" She said in nervous boast. "I'm sure I can make you something custom that would make you forget this ever happened!"

A slow grin spread across Ashyr's face. "You know, shiny things do tend to make me a bit forgetful..."

This promised to be a wonderful start to her shopping trip.

--

The next time anyone from the troupe saw Ashyr, the sun had set almost completely set and she was stomping across the forum in what looked to be a barely-controlled fury. All the people around her side-stepped out of the way by sheer instinct. Cryers were beginning to tell everyone within the area that the main event was supposed to start soon. She'd heard several more telling the rest of the city while she was still outside.

"Something wrong?" Celeste asked. Ashyr had found the other woman in the dressing room. Evidently, she was to perform in the final production of the night. It was a testament to how angry she really was that the drow did not take a moment to ogle the half-dressed blonde.

"Weapon smith was rude." Her words were as succinct as they were grumpy.

"Well, go put that irritability to good use. Artur's been wondering where you ran off to." Celeste scolded lightly. "He told me to tell you this:" Her voice affected a jolly tone not entirely unlike the troupe leader's. "You need to go take your shift as bouncer at the main tent. There should be two of you guards at all times, and one of them has been there far too long. Make sure everyone pays calmly and politely. Any other questions you have can be asked of whichever guard is to be your partner." Then her voice dropped the accent and fell smoothly into her natural speech. Celeste turned her back to the drow and held the laces to her bodice out. "Tie this for me first?"

After getting her friend properly into her corset - quite the opposite of what she wanted to do - Ashyr grumped off towards where she was directed. The crowd had thinned in most places, but condensed in what could be called a line in front of the main tent. It would be more accurately referred to as a mass or rabble. Ashyr wondered who she would be relieving and who she would be stuck with. Caleldir was there, and so was that human guard who she thought was boring and therefore never bothered to remember his name.

"Why then, of course, I died!" Caleldir paused for dramatic effect, then continued in a spooky tone. "Sometimes, on windless, starless nights, you can still hear my tortured soul wailing my name in the winds." He nodded seriously. Then, looking very fake-spooky, he crooned out a name. "Goelon Duvainor..." Just a bit of illusory sound to give an eerie echo, and the tale was done.

"Oh gods, why did I get stuck with you..." The other guard, a rather short and stunningly generic looking human male, groaned in a whisper. "I can't see how Gurzan stands your stories."

Several of the attendees stuck waiting 'in line' (not that that statement was very accurate, considering how unruly it was), ignored the short guard's muttered complaint and began clapping. A few dropped copper (and exactly two silver) coins into Caleldir's hat when he performed his usual, exaggerated bow. Some called for an encore. "Sorry folks," Caleldir said. "But I must return to the patrol. Someone needs to keep an eye on your purses. After all, if some cut-purse comes along, you will have way less money to give our esteemed troupe!" With a few disappointed sighs mixed with a few chuckles, the audience turned their attention back to the arduous process of waiting. Caleldir turned to the other guard with a mirthful twinkle in his eyes. "So, Dravyon, what were you saying about how nobody likes my stories?"

Dravyon shook his head. "It still do not understand the appeal. But I guess I cannot argue with two silver pieces. Even if you are manifestly not the legendary Ghost-King of the Cursed Monastery."

Caleldir returned his hat, (a rather silly, broad-brimmed and garishly feathered affair) to his head. After collecting the money, of course. "Well, I hope you can argue with one silver piece then." He tossed the other guard the bright coin. "Consider this a team effort." Looking up, he noticed a grouchy looking Ashyr approaching. "Ah! It appears that your shift is over, Dravyon. Have a good time in the mead tent."

Dravyon gave the Drow a grateful look. "Your timing is perfect. Take care lest this one drive you crazy." He looked at the silver piece in his hand. "Though I have to admit he is the best guard to get stuck with. Don't tell him I said that though." After whispering the last bit conspiratorially, but loud enough for Caleldir to easily hear him, as he was intended to, Dravyon strode off.

Caleldir looked towards Ashyr and shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, no silver for you. I need the other piece to buy myself one of those fancy history books from the printers. Never stop learning, and all that. So, how has your night been?"

"I don't need your coin, boy." She snapped before she could contain it. Ashyr sat down in the stool that the other guard had previously occupied. Her presence accidentally got the front part of the crowd slightly more organized. All gave her a fairly wide berth, making them fall almost into single file. She bared her teeth at one errant child who looked as if he were about to make a run for it inside the tent. The kid stopped in his tracks to stare at her in wide-eyed terror. Then he thought better of his previous plan and presumably ran back to his mother. It made her feel just a little bit better.

"I apologize for my levity." Caleldir said quickly. "I meant no offense." He stepped away a few feet to give the angry Drow some space. The mild irritation that he had felt from her disdain quickly found itself replaced by amusement however, as he noted the reactions of the crowd. "Heh." He chuckled. The naked fear that so many of them displayed seemed downright silly, but it was undeniably effective in keeping them in line.

"Tried to do business with some idiot human and his shitty shop." She began, remembering that he'd asked her how her night was. For some reason, she wanted to make it clear that it wasn't the pale elf that she was angry with. Scaring him would probably be pretty funny, but scaring him off? Well, she didn't really want that to happen. "Called me a woman like it was an insult. Grabbed my ass. I cut him a little. Then he threw me out on the street. Would've made him pay, but there were guards on the other side of the street."

Come to think of it, none of the shop owners really took kindly to her. None had been quite so rude, though. She had gained a new trinket in her hair since going shopping. It was a harpy feather now fitted firmly to a copper chain and attached somehow so it hung on the side of her head. The small feather she had plucked from the harpy she'd killed, the chain from a jeweler woman she'd managed to intimidate. Ashyr had been pleased with herself about that new acquisition until she fell afoul of the next shop she visited.

"Sadly, the piggishness of some men and women is beyond all reasonable excuse." He said philosophically. "It is just one sign of the moral degradation of this modern era. 'For those in whose hearts the fear of the Moral Law has been destroyed...' " He blinked. "Sorry about that. It was just something the Abbot used to say. I am sorry to hear about your unpleasant evening." He grinned again. "I suppose that imagining what would happen to that silly shopkeeper if he tried that behavior in one of the Drow cities is an amusing thought." He chuckled in a tone that stated that he severely underestimated what would actually happen. "Of course, cutting people is not wise up here. It is liable to get you into some trouble. Hopefully the rest of your night will be an improvement."

A slow, positively wicked grin spread across the drow's lips. It made her last expression, the one she used to scare the child, look like a friendly smile. Oh, she knew exactly what her city would do to him. His short life would be full of terror and servitude and the hands of women who could be far more cruel than even Ashyr could manage. Yes, imagining him in such a predicament was exceedingly amusing. She wasn't so sure about the whole moral law thing he spouted. Ashyr wasn't aware of a universal set of written rules that dictated people's interactions.

"I don't see why I can't cut people if they're being really fucking grabby." She said with still a hint of amused malice in her tone.

"You cannot cut people because law enforcement are not likely to be on your side." Caleldir said patiently. "They dislike drow around here, after all. It is best not to do anything that draws too much negative attention." He would have likely said more out of concern for his new reasonably non-hostile acquaintance's (he would say friend, but...) status as not incarcerated, but she seemed disinclined to continue talking with all of the racket. He did not really blame her for that. He stayed silent and watchful as the crowd filtered into the event.

Artur called for everyone to be seated and quiet; the production was about to start. Ashyr glanced into the tent with curiosity. It certainly looked full. Artur's voice was next heard beside her, telling everyone still outside that it was full. There weren't too many people to be disappointed.

"I think they remember us from the last time!" Artur said to the two posted guards. The man practically glowed with excitement. "We usually don't get a full house on the first night!" He almost skipped off, seemed to remember something, then turned back to Cal and Ashyr. "You two are going to have to stay out here, I'm afraid. Can't have anyone stealing in. Or just plain stealing. I'll make sure the other two guards take this shift tomorrow night."

Caleldir greeted Artur's order with a salute, followed by a sigh. "I understand, sir. We promise to keep the peace as best we may." He smiled. "It is good to see that word of our skills is spreading. Be sure to metaphorically break a leg tonight!"

Ashyr glanced over to the pale elf. She blinked a couple times, trying to comprehend how breaking a leg could possibly be a polite this to say to another person. She dismissed as some folly of the surface - or maybe of men.

When the tent had closed for the performance, Caleldir turned to Ashyr with a shrug. "Well, it seems that we are stuck together for the foreseeable future."

"I'm still annoyed that I owe you a favor." Ashyr said, using the relative quiet they had found to solve the other thing that had been making her grumpy and brooding all day.

Caleldir blinked. She didn't want to let that topic go, it seemed. "If you feel obliged to me, I suppose that you could pay for breakfast tomorrow. Some eggs, bread, and perhaps a little sweet wine (I think that it is grape season in this region, so they should have some fresh, minimally fermented vintage for sale) would clear up any debt that you might feel that you owe me."