A Drow's Dilemma Ep. 08: New Goals

"Yup." She said, taking on a much more conservative pose than anyone would find in a textbook. She paused when she saw the stance he took. Mischief danced at the corners of her mouth and she shifted into a slightly less useful pose, but certainly more dramatic. This was Ashyr's stage. This was where she wanted the attention of an awestruck crowd. If there was some sort of fighting routine that the troop would put on, she would participate in a heartbeat. It looked as if the woman was enjoying herself immensely. Perhaps even too much. The more people who came to watch, the better.

"You can read books and practice moves all you want." Ashyr said, falling upon Caleldir with an aggressive attack. "Books can't teach you instinct. Can't teach you how to spot your opponents next move in time to do anything about it. Can't teach your muscles how to react even before your mind can. And..." She spun forward and jabbed out her elbow aimed straight for his gut hard enough to send Caleldir stumbling and gasping. "It won't teach you how to avoid that. Sparring will. Actual battle is even better."

With a thud, the blow connected, sending Caleldir stumbling. "Oomph." Caleldir gasped out. Throwing back up his guard, he recovered his breath. "Well, technically my manual did tell me how to avoid that sort of blows. I just need practice." He retaliated with a few more quick but too straightforward to land slashes and jabs, getting himself hit several more times for his trouble. Overall, he clearly understood the theory really well, but lacked actual experience.

"It seems that we are drawing a bit of a crowd." Caleldir observed after a while. On one hand, he liked having an audience. On the other he preferred that that audience was not observing him having his rear handed to him, like he was now. Still, it did not take long for him to begin to follow, and even predict, some of her attacks. He could not land a hit - most of his strikes were too telegraphed for that - but he managed to actually parry most of hers. He still flowed from book-learned stance to book-learned stance, but he had read really good textbooks.

She glanced around at the handful of people who were watching them with mild curiosity. Most, however, had work to do. Their eyes only glanced toward them occasionally. Ashyr tried her best to choose the conservative over the dramatic, no matter how plaintively the siren's song of theatrics called to her. It would teach her new pupil nothing and she really did want to help him.

"I can get your reaction times up, but unfortunately sparring with me will only teach out how to combat my styles." She said after a few sold parries. "And I only know how to fight two ways. Dirty and really dirty."

Although he could be a bit of a showman himself, Caleldir was less worried about showing off than he was about not completely losing, he increasingly focused on the easiest and most practical moves of the several thousand he had mentally memorized but never really performed. As Ashyr continued to rack up hits though, he was made more and more painfully aware that theory alone only carried him so far. Also that a whole pile of new moves had been invented in the last millennium. In his original life, he could identify on sight every move from every fighting style in the known world, but that world had moved on and he no longer knew much that was all that useful. Of course, it could be that Ashyr was not using any particular style and was simply using what worked from her several centuries (well, probably, it was impossible to tell...) of life.

Around that time, most people (except those who counted themselves among the warriors and fighters) had begun to lose interest. Ashyr was growing tired as well. A wicked smile crossed the drow's face. Time to demonstrate really dirty.

Her partner was oblivious to Ahyr's change in mood. "When it comes to 'dirty' fighting, I was familiar with eleven different schools that taught there was no such thing as dirty fighting: only the practical and the impractical." Caleldir made his usual mistake when he started talking, and promptly found Ashyr flicking his 'sword' away and executing some sort of bizarre grapple that he was absolutely sure was non-regulation. It ended with with her straddling him. He swallowed, looking up at the woman on top of him. He was uncomfortably aware of how fiercely beautiful she was, and how his body was reacting to their proximity. Maddeningly, and humiliatingly, he found that he was developing an erection, which, seeing as she was sitting on it, she had to be aware of. "Oh, that is what you mean by really dirty." He said rather sheepishly.

Lust brought slightly darker color to her face and quickening of her breath that had nothing to do with physical exertion. She could feel his body's answering ardor only a couple of layers of clothing away. Lolth take her, she wanted it so very badly. Her mouth quirked upward in a very naughty grin. Too bad they were mostly in the middle of the encampment and the drow wasn't feeling up for that sort of exhibition. Not that night, anyway. Something told her that getting him away from all those people might give her a better chance at that bulge in his pants. "I can help you get rid of that." Her body shifted ever-so-slightly. In the darkness it wouldn't look like much to the casual onlooker (except for the whole drow straddling an elf thing), but its effect was a gentle pressing down and forward, rubbing her crotch against his. "That's the third and slightly lesser known fighting style of mine." Her voice dropped to an almost sultry challenge. "Usually it involves fewer clothes."

Generally speaking, Caleldir was not slow witted. There were definite times though, where he missed something incredibly obvious, whether he wanted to miss it or simply because he did not believe it, he could be stupidly dull-minded when it came to innuendo (or not-so-innuendo, frankly) directed at him. "Get rid of what?" He asked, blushing rather severely even though he had no idea what she was referring to. Probably his tendency to lose.

She mentioned three fighting styles... um... would those be dirty, really dirty, and... he decided that he would not hazard a guess at the third. His imagination was supplying several meanings that she could not possibly mean. Oh! She meant wrestling. The last move had been an illustration of the usefulness of wrestling moves to non-lethally subdue an opponent in a fight. The fact that this interpretation rather severely contradicted everything he knew about the Drow (the bit about less clothes was probably his imagination...) did not occur to him, as he was too busy trying not to think about the rubbing going on between the two of them.

She ignored his question and lifted herself off of him in such a way that managed another subtle rub between the elves' pants. Once she was standing, she held out a hand to help him up. "I know a place we can go," She said soft enough for only his ears, "where no one will be able to find us until morning. I can train you in that third style as well." Though maybe she was being a little too indirect. Sometimes she wondered if Caleldir understood some of the things she'd hinted at before. Eh, she would explain if he looked confused.

He blushingly took her hand, noting the stunning contrast of her coal-black skin against his marble white. The two of them had a yin-yang contrast that he could not help but find appealing. "I... I suppose that I could still use a lot of training." He said. "And I have to admit that I am not keen on continuing here, where the entire camp can watch you keep handing my rear to me." If he had heard her words uttered to someone else, he could not possibly have mistook her meaning, but since she was talking to him he completely missed them. Instead, he thought how nice it was that she decided to move their training to a less embarrassing place.

-Fuck, he's cute when he blushes like that- She thought to herself as she hauled him to his feet.

Something told her that, though he answered her request in the affirmative, he had no idea what he was agreeing to. Mostly because the expected response was immediate rejection instead of agreeing to her suggestion as he did. Well... didn't hurt to lead him to the place she spoke of and at least try to get him to understand. She was really damned horny. Fighting always fired her up like that, and she'd been fighting without any relief afterwards (aside from her fingers, which didn't count) for almost three weeks. "Come." She said with that familiar naughty quirk of the mouth. Then she walked off through the waning light with almost a strutting gait.

Caleldir found himself almost hypnotized watching Ashyr walk away. The way that her hips swayed... He violently shook his head. He had to get his mind onto other things. Drawing a deep breath, attempting to quiet both his beating heart and... other ways that he was clearly too excited, he followed after the alluring dark elf.

She walked almost five minutes away from the encampment, walking quickly and eagerly. Then she came upon the spot she'd seen earlier. There was a large patch of soft earth that was sheltered from the chilly wind by a large rock that jutted upward. The drow was going to sleep there for a while, but if she could get into Caleldir's pants it was worth giving up the location.

Looking over at his lovely trainer, he stepped back with worry when he noticed her hungry expression. "Err... Lady Duskhaven?" He asked. "What are you-" He stopped talking with an 'ooof' when Ashyr suddenly pulled him forward and pushed him down, efficiently returning to her recent position on top of him, with much the same arousing results as before. He swallowed. This did not seem like ordinary 'wrestling'. Some words formed on his lips, but he found that he could not say anything.

Her suspicions were confirmed when he began to ask what she was doing and when she saw the worry on his face. He hadn't the slightest idea what was going on. She'd never encountered a more oblivious person in her life. What did they do in that monastery? Clearly nothing, and clearly it was like no religious house that she was used to. She couldn't even fathom the truth of the matter. It didn't even occur to her. No drow was celibate by choice.

Well, she would clue him in soon enough. Instead of getting back off of him and releasing him as she did last time, she leaned forward to press her mouth against his for as long as he'd let her. She wanted to rip his clothes off and start riding him that instant, but she was being cautious. Maybe if she got him started in the right direction, he wouldn't refuse her. His pants certainly told of what his body wanted. Unfortunately, one's body and one's mind didn't always see eye-to-eye.

Caleldir's eyes went wide as Ashyr moved her lips to his. Hesitatingly, he accepted, then even returned the kiss, although it was clear that he had not really done this before. Giving in to the heady sensation, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her a little closer to him, continuing the kiss until she could not hold her breath any longer.

When he pulled away to let her gasp for air, Caleldir had a sudden change of heart. What was he thinking? She was beautiful and willing, but he could not do this. He weakly tried to push her off. "I can't do this..." He said with obvious regret, not believing his own words. "This is wrong. I always said I would wait for marriage to..." He swallowed heavily, desperately trying to keep his raging attraction down long enough to resist her.

She gave him a strange, baffled look. Something was... weird about his kiss. That look intensified exponentially with his words. That was the single most batshit crazy thing she'd ever heard. She sat back up, ignoring the pressure of his erection against her pussy. Ashyr had so many questions that she couldn't even begin to express them. He was... he hadn't... wanted to... "What?!" She finally choked out.

Caleldir's spirits sank a little when he saw the - confusion? Disappointment? Anger? He could not tell - on Ashyr's face. "I was trained to believe that sex is something that should only be within wedlock." He said. "And I have vowed that I would live up to that standard." He looked away from her, keenly aware of the small amount of fabric between them and sexual intercourse. He really, really wanted to remove that fabric and feel her dusky skin against his pale flesh... He desperately tried to think of something else. "As much as we are obviously attracted to each other, we are not married." He said rather lamely.

He let out a long breath. "But I do thank you for giving me my first kiss." He said with a weak smile.

Ashyr's brain appeared to be broken for a time. She slid off of him, and knelt beside him on the soft earth. Not sure if he was more relieved or disappointed that Ashyr got off of him, Caleldir let out a long sigh as he sat up.

"I don't -" she began. But she didn't even know what she 'didn't.' The drow looked down at her hands, drew in a deep breath, and exhaled shakily. She wasn't angry. Perhaps she was a little frustrated, but the confusion far overshadowed everything else.

"I thought you said your gods were gone. Why would they care now about a vow you made over a thousand years ago?" She asked finally. "Why would they make you promise such a thing to begin with? Its - its downright unhealthy. I mean, I'm going crazy and it's only been a couple weeks. Even longer since I've been with a male. Call Lolth what you want, but even she's not that evil."

"My civilization did not worship the gods, which is precisely why we were destroyed. Instead, we had our philosophies." He said quietly. "But I doubt that the philosophies of long dead civilizations are really relevant here." He was breathing deeply, but measured, still struggling to regain control. The effect that she was having on him was maddening. "Philosophies do not die like gods do." Although, at the moment, he sort of wished that they did.

He stood up. "I deeply apologize. I suppose that it is far easier to resist pleasures that you have never indulged in." He smiled weakly. "But do not take my refusal of you as censure: I have never in my life wanted anything as much as I do you. But I cannot."

Philosophy? That was even crazier that being forced by some god. She could understand some cosmic power forcing ideals upon its people. At least they would get rewarded for keeping on whatever that religion's version of the straight and narrow. But why would a whole bunch of people come together and conclude that extramarital intercourse was something to be avoided even to the detriment of oneself?

Even as he stood, she remained knelt on the ground, still clearly confused. "Why, Caleldir? Why would your people restrict themselves like this? What could that possibly accomplish?" Ashyr looked up at him with questioning eyes. At least she was responding to this with questions instead of anger. She was trying to understand him. Perhaps it would give her a way to convince him that this abstinence was something he could put behind him. Ashyr wanted him, but she wasn't going to go so far as to marry him just so she could bang him. That would take too much time.

Caleldir drew a deep breath. There were many explanations for his people's philosophies and morality. He had written several treatises on this very topic. Unfortunately, he could not remember any of them very well right now. He did remember who gave them those rules though. "Our people did have a... God." He said carefully. "But the nature of our deity is something that we did not speak of to outsiders. That God cannot die or vanish with time. He will always be watching." Not that was important to her; he was mostly reminding himself.

The real reason that he continued to live according to long-dead morality was probably because not doing so felt like a betrayal of his former life. Closing his eyes, he decided to say this. "The reasons for the restrictions are not really important." He said regretfully. "But if I, probably the last of my old faith, forsake my culture, then the civilization of my birth really is dead. I cannot face that yet. Besides, I still believe that our God has not abandoned us completely, even if it seems like He has."

Ashyr looked back down. So it was about a god after all. That would really be the only way to explain it. She shook her head, and then finally got to her feet. Frustration finally overcame her sense of utter confusion. She had to relieve some of the tension she felt so that she could think straight in the morning. The Caleldir... problem... could be dealt with at another time. Perhaps, when she had time to think, she could explore his limits and find some clever words to trick him into doing what she wanted without triggering that strange guilt he had.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then." She said with a sort of distracted quality to her voice. She began to wander off. Bard, who had been hiding somewhere in the brush, suddenly got up and ran full-speed after her with a happy sort of excitement.

Maybe some sort of deity was her problem as well. Just when Celeste had begun warming to the idea of her... and then Caleldir, the only other person she found interesting, had this baffling restriction. Her luck with surface dwellers seemed pretty bad.

Unfortunately, Caleldir did not know what the best way of eliminating the awkwardness from this situation, so he uneasily turned away. "I am sorry..." He said. "I hope that this will not cause me to lose you as a friend." Perhaps it would be better if he had given in in order to keep her... no, he could not think that way. Besides, it was too late he had killed the mood. "I will see you tomorrow as well."

With that, he turned back to camp. When he arrived, some of the caravan gave him meaningful looks and started to tease him. That was, until at least they saw his expression, at which point they made excuses and pretended to mind their own business. Still, Caleldir ruefully realized that it would not be long until the entire caravan knew exactly what had just happened. Gurzan gave him a sympathetic pat on the back, but Caleldir hardly noticed. He pulled out his sleeping bag and decided to try and get some rest.