Shilana's Trial

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To save her lover, Shilana goes willingly through Hell.
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Author's Notes:

This is the sequel to "Leo and the Dragon", which you can also find here on Literotica. To fully enjoy this story, you might want to go back and read that one first, although I've tried my best to make this as accessible as possible.

A huge "Thank you" for all the people who helped refine this tale. You know who you are.

As always, there are only adult beings having sex.

*****

"Nothing better than the end of a day's march," Arach sighed, as she stepped from the tent, raising her arms over her head and stretching languidly. She seemed to bask in the light of the setting sun, long white hair unbound, fluttering in the evening breeze. Both she and her lover, Tear, wore nothing more than gauzy, silvery robes that did precious little to conceal the curves of their lithe yet supple bodies. The wind whispering through the clearing wasn't helping either, each gentle breeze tugging at the diaphanous garments, exposing the smooth, coal-black skin beneath.

For reasons that baffled me, neither Leo nor Zentam seemed the least bit perturbed by those two practically flaunting their tits and asses. Especially Leo seemed at ease around them, smiling fondly or even brushing his hand along a shapely thigh or butt when they strode by. That was not the Leo I'd known for the last four years. The Leo I had known was a blond-locked, muscular and shockingly handsome six-foot-nine giant of a man. Always caring, always gentle, fearless and honest to a fault, but he blushed like a young girl whenever someone as much as blew him a kiss.

We'd been partners since he arrived in Storm Harbour those years back. At first he clung to me like a kid to his wet-nurse, because the city seemed to genuinely frighten him, but as the months went by, I found it harder and harder to not feel his reassuring presence behind me when I strode into a fight. Over time, I postponed our separation again and again, until the higher-ups in the Guard saw it fit to make our partnership official. And through bloody battles, rainy nights of patrol duties and more than one heated argument which nearly brought my lightning-wreathed fist into his face, we've become friends.

And when I was honest to myself, just a little bit, I accepted the fact that I couldn't stand the notion of no longer being by his side. Or he by mine. An important distinction, I thought. What other reason could there be that I almost went mental when he left for that dragon-hunting episode with those ebon tramps and I fumed alone, for the first time in years, scared witless of what they, or the dragon would do to my dearest, and let's be honest again, only friend? It wasn't the first time we went our separate ways, but it certainly was the hardest and the reunion, albeit quite the strange encounter with Arach bodily hauling me into Leo's embrace, was the most welcome. No, this time, I had decided, I would be with him, come whatever may. And may the gods protect any dark elven twat who would dare lay a finger, a lip or anything else on my paladin. It was bad enough that those two, nearly naked, were all but rubbing their goods in his face!

Well, our faces, really.

"Who are ye plannin' to gut next, elf?" Zentam merrily asked, flopping down next to me and handing me a rolled-up trail ration.

I wasn't very good at making friends. Most people didn't understand magic or those who used it, so most kept their distance, with Leo being one of the few exceptions. And I wasn't in the habit of sharing my troubled past with anyone. But I found dealing with Zentam surprisingly easy. Yes, he was coarse and he seemed to be very fond of walking, or sitting very close to me, enveloping me in his personal cloud of metal and sweat scents. But he was a simple, honest soul. Point him into the direction of an enemy and he would only stop after said enemy was a sad stain on the ground, a mentality I could wholeheartedly get behind.

"It's 'Shilana', remember?" I reminded him sweetly, just the barest shock of electricity jumping between our hands as I took the ration. "And I'm not itching to gut anyone. How do you get the idea in the first place?"

"Oh, just a feelin'," he grinned, pointing at the rations package he just had handed me. The oiled paper was smoking in a dozen places where my fingers were touching it. "And yer not lookin' too kindly at the lassies," he added unnecessarily.

Yes, I was agitated, and the mystical energies barely contained within me reacted to my thoughts and desires. When I closed my eyes, I could easily envision two dark elven sluts jumping and dancing while lightning shocked them from head to nipples to toes. While a it would be a delightful little diversion, I had promised I would behave. With a conscious effort of will, I forced myself to calm down and unwrapped the ration, noting with disgust the greasy piece of meat next to two potatoes and some hard tack.

"Well-" A slender hand brushed my cheek. I tried my best not to flinch, but going by the sad little smile on Tear's face, I had failed, yet again. There was no call for it. Not with her. Where Arach was wild and had a touch of crazy in her amber eyes, Tear was gentle and sweet. But she was a dark elf, so my first instinct was to light her up. I hadn't done it though. I was learning, and I'd come to accept their presence nearby, had adapted to it. Mostly. Except for the touching.

Truly, what was it with those two, their constant need for touching, fondling and kissing? Clashing natures, is what they were. Warrior-priestesses and creatures of wanton desire both, at home on the battlefield or in a brothel. And then there was me, with my irrational but truly justifiable fear of dark elves, creatures that were not known for genteel kindness, not anywhere. It was no wonder I was on edge.

I opened my mouth to shoo the woman away when I noticed what she was holding out with her free hand, a small wooden bowl, filled with sliced tomatoes, carrots, salad, mushrooms and cheese. Her smile widened. "I've put Arach to good use. Forget these horrible rations and try some of our salad instead. I'll promise it's not poisoned. Really."

Feeling myself blush, I hung my head and mumbled a little "thank you". Her long fingers brushed my cheek -- and I didn't flinch that time - and with an barely audible "you're welcome, Shi," she was gone.

"Ye're doin' it again," Zentam said with a smirk. I looked at the bowl in my hands, the wood smoking where my fingers seared it. Snarling with the effort, I willed my power to subside again. "How are ye doing this anyway?" the dwarf asked.

"Have you ever heard of elemental stones?" I asked him instead of an explanation.

To my surprise, he nodded sagely. "Yup, they're highly prized for creating magical arms and armor, imbuin' the elemental properties into the item in question. Put a fire stone into an axe, ye have yerself a nicely burnin' axe." Then his eyes widened in understanding. "Lass, ye didn't-"

I nodded. "Put five of them into an elf mage and you have me."

"Ye can't be serious!" he breathed, almost in awe.

I put the bowl down and looked at him, lowering my voice. No need for the whole camp to listen in. "I was young. I was angry. And maybe a little foolish. I didn't want to wait centuries to become powerful enough to kill dark elves." I took his hand and placed it atop my forehead. You can't see it from the outside, only when I used the full extent of my power, but you could certainly feel the ridges of the stone embedded in my skull when your fingers were sensitive enough. Zentam's were. Again surprising me, his fingertips gently traced the pentagonal stone.

"Who would be mad enough to do such a thing?" he asked, his voice wavering between curiosity and awe.

"Lady Desire grants any wish, if you're willing to pay her price," I whispered.

Unbidden, the images came back. The naked priestess, writhing atop the altar, intoning the name, the unspeakable true name of Desire while I knelt between her legs, my lips fastened to her femininity, fulfilling her desires so she could help fulfil mine. Then my turn on the altar, the chanting acolytes bringing the storm gems, placing them on my forehead, my breastbone, my stomach and both hands. Then there was nothing but blinding, never-ending agony as the stones buried themselves into my body. Hands, mouths, other parts rubbing, leaking, drooling over me, and finally, the sultry voice of Desire herself, as she proclaimed the price I had to pay for my power.

"You shall be bringer of death, as you asked, but never shall you bear life. And never shall you escape your past, despite your best efforts to rid yourself of it."

"What was that?" Zentam asked, his face so close that an errant hair was itching my nose.

"None of your business, dwarf," I snarled, getting up. I needed to be alone. Now.

* * * *

The chattering birds were just the thing to calm my nerves. I was sitting on a forked branch, almost thirty feet up from the ground. I didn't even remember the climb. And once again, I felt utterly stupid. As if I hadn't enough futile questions to wrangle with, I had to share one of my darkest secrets with a gods-be-damned dwarven mercenary. I barely knew him, we were hardly friends, and what I shared with him wasn't meant for the ears of loose acquaintances. What next? Would I welcome Arach into my bedroll for a night of debauchery?

It wasn't Zentam's fault that I was so agitated, but it sure as hell was his questioning that brought back the memories, reminding me all too sharply what I was willing to leave behind for the sake of revenge. Another crept into my mind, tall, blond-locked, muscular. Why was it that Leo came to mind whenever I pondered my inability to bear children? It was a conscious decision to leave everything behind anyway, right? And who in their right mind would bring children into a world where dark elves were free to rape, murder and enslave whoever and whatever they set their greedy eyes upon?

"Shilana!" Came a whisper from below. Gnashing my teeth, I looked down. Leo. Fully armored, hefting his impossibly large hammer like a children's toy, he was skulking around in the underbrush, easy to spot despite the darkness. With a sigh, I intoned one of my minor magics, a simple spell that let me slowly drift from any height, almost like a feather, and jumped off the branch. With barely a rustle, I set down next to him. Nevertheless, he had almost turned as my hand touched his shoulder, small arcs of eldritch lightning sparking off his armor.

"Are you really paranoid or have your senses sharpened this much since last we were together, hatchling?" I teased him.

Leo whispered something I didn't get, but I heard the soft rattle as his armor folded in on itself. When his arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a surprising embrace, my face rested against his shirt-clad chest instead of hard, unyielding metal.

"It's surprising, really, how much you learn when crawling through pitch-black caverns and tunnels," he commented. "And not wearing a helmet any more does help, too." His tone softened. "I was worried."

"I'm a big girl, Leo," I said, trying not to scowl. "And you know, elves and forests and all,"

He snorted with amusement.

It was almost surreal how safe I felt in his arms, feeling his mighty chest ebb and swell with each of his measured breaths. I leaned into him, urging him on to hug me tighter. Without hesitation, he pulled me even closer, until I felt nothing but his strong arms around me, his muscular frame against me. And I also felt a very distinct stirring underneath his pants. I cocked my head. His smile was radiant as he bent down and gently placed a kiss on my forehead, the only thing he could reach without having to bend down and break our embrace somewhat. It felt as if the warmth of his kiss seeped into my skin, flowed through my cheeks, until it settled within my own lips.

I grinned playfully and craned my neck, offering my mouth. With a small growl, he changed his grip, his wonderfully large hands cupping my behind, and without any apparent effort, he hoisted me up so our heads were level. Despite myself, I giggled like a lovestruck fool and wrapped my legs around his hips, pressing my heels into his rock-hard behind. Then I forgot to breathe as his lips found mine and he kissed me, with a silent, burning intensity that made my heart skip a beat. He even brushed his tongue over my lips. So unexpected, yet so right, and I wanted more of it, not just on my mouth.

But this was too good to be true. Was he teasing me for that one night where I -- unsuccessfully -- tried to seduce him? "Fine, out with it. What have you done with my paladin?" I snarled, only half-joking.

"I still am Leo, Fist of Justice..." he began, but I cut him off with, gods above, a kiss. I felt something brush up between us, deliciously pressing into my stomach.

"... Hero of Storm Harbour, Dragonslayer, blah, blah, blah, I know all your bloody titles. But you are not behaving like Leo!" I complained.

"No? What is different?" he asked.

Was he serious? Almost too late I noticed the little smile tugging at his lips, confident, cocky even. I sighed, not quite sure if in defeat or exasperation, but that only caused my body to rub deliciously against his hardness. Were his fingers actually kneading my butt? Too many clothes between us, too many layers. Gods, what was happening to me?

"For Mercy's sake, Leo, you're practically trying to lay me!" I snapped, silently debating if I should disentangle myself from him.

"If I wanted that, you'd be the first to know, I promise. I was just worried about you, leaving camp snarling like that. Do you want me to stop?" he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers over my skin where his lips almost touched my neck. I didn't know what I wanted any more. For the longest time, he just held me, nearly motionless, apart from his breathing or the occasional, coy movement of his hands on my bum, causing me to moan in appreciation. It had been years that I had let anyone get this close to me, and for some insane reason, Leo's every touch was making me shiver in delight.

I moaned in disappointment when he gently set me down again, my weakened knees suddenly barely able to keep me standing.

"I think we should better continue this discussion in camp," he suggested, picking up his hammer.

"Which discussion? You were busy fondling my butt, hatchling. What's to discuss about that?" I grumbled. I never asked him to stop.

"How we will go on, of course."

* * * *

Arach and Zentam waited for us when we returned, the dark elven girl grinning fiercely and obviously itching to let loose one of her irreverent questions, but she just closed her mouth when she met Leo's gaze. I had a feeling that she was in some way responsible for the way Leo behaved these days. Always Leo had worn his faith and personal code like a shield. Always had he been a remarkable paladin, an honorable companion, a trusted friend. But a lover, one comfortable in his own skin? Never. One did not learn the lessons of lovemaking from a book. These were learned by trial and error, and by experience. Had Arach and Leo...? No, Leo could never have initiated... But Arach, who was seemingly ashamed of nothing... What if she...?

"I'll keep watch for the rest o' the night," Zentam said. "We're this close to Storm Harbour, what could try to attack us here?"

"Ogres?" Leo and Arach shot at him in unison.

Completing each other's sentences now, were they? The thought disturbed me. They were too close for comfort. Maybe they had-? During a damned dragon hunt? I needed to let this thought go. Or bury it deep, deep down inside. Something I was pretty good at.

"All the more reason for ye to let me have some fun. With you around, any battle would be over far too soon anyway. So, off ta bed wit all o'ye," the dwarf ordered, waving his axe around.

I nodded his way and slipped into the tent not shared by the dark elves. I stood by my word with Leo. Somewhat. I'd let up on the "not sharing a camp site" and "not talking to them" bits, but the Nine Hells would freeze over before I thought about sharing a tent with them. I wasn't afraid of them. Oh no. I could beat both of them in a fair fight, let alone an unfair one. But they could do far worse things to me than kill or hurt me. I really didn't want to end up as the centerpiece of an unplanned all-girl threesome.

I opened my small backpack and unfurled one of my most valuable possessions, an enchanted bedroll which would let me make the most of my sleep, leaving me fully rested after only three hours. It also was one of the few possessions the dark elves attacking our village didn't take with them, obviously enchanted bedrolls weren't important enough to pillage.

What was it with every thought turning to my past tonight? First, the augmentation ceremony in Desire's temple and what I'd given up for it, now my mind wandered back to the Speaker's Hall, and what happened there.

The floor was stained crimson with all the blood the priestesses of the Chaos Queen spilled there after the males were done raping every girl and woman they didn't deem valuable enough for their slave markets in their eternally sun-scorned caverns. I still don't know why they didn't offer me to their damned Queen with the first batch. After all, I was the High Speaker's daughter, a doe-eyed beauty of tender seventy, barely grown into a woman. But no, they had strapped me between two pillars holding the high-vaulted ceiling, legs splayed open obscenely, so every passing drow could, if the fancy struck him or her, have a go at me. And even when they had been hauling out the valuables by the chestful, they hadn't had enough. It seemed as every last one of them had stopped at my pillars at least once to play.

"You have been a good pupil, Hael'quira," one regal priestess cooed, her armor dented and bloodied during the assault on our stronghold. Her fingers were busy in the robes of a younger, copper-haired female, hair plastered to her skull by an errant gush of blood when she had rammed her sacrificial knife into my younger brother, ripping his still beating heart out in a fountain of gore, and calling for the favor of their filthy deity.

"Can I go play now, Mother?" Hael'quira asked, grinding against the older woman. I wasn't sure if she was using a ceremonial title or if that older female was really the monster that had spawned her.

"Of course. You have earned it. Just remember what I told you. We have to leave a message for the traitorous tree-huggers and I need her for that. Go play, my horny little spiderling," the older priestess purred with sickly sweet affection in her voice, fingers dipping lower into Hael'quira's robes, causing the younger drow to moan in heat. "Just don't kill her by accident. Understood?"

Grinning wickedly, Hael'quira sashayed over to me. I had to crane my head up to look her in the eye, as I was fixed in a bent-over position for easier molestation. Some aeons ago, it seemed, I had cried my last tears, lost in the never-ending stream of sticky fluids the dark elven males sprayed on or into me. In their stead, a tiny, throbbing pinprick of fury had blossomed in my lower body, the burning sensation all that kept me conscious and sane.

"Hello, Shilana," she purred, parting, then shedding her blood-spattered robe. Her inky black skin was painted with pools of golden radiance from the few scattered torches and braziers that were still burning. Her body was tattooed with striking gold too, long, slender spider legs coming over her shoulders, from under her armpits and around her stomach, converging on her shaved mound. Almost as if a giant spider was hugging her from behind, the claws picked out in an eerily metallic gold color. A small, obsidian spider was eagerly clicking its legs between her pert breasts."