Gallen and Fyrie

Gallen and Fyrie Part 1

Fyrie sighed, took a sip of her drink and then put it down with a grimace. Too sweet. That summed up everything about this pleasure lounge that Mordu had dragged them to as soon they arrived in town.

After weeks slogging through the wilderness, surviving daily, almost hourly skirmishes with the remnants of Bolgar's orc army, they reached the relative safety of the city and Mordu declared it imperative they begin to relax and have fun as soon as possible and Fyrie, initially, had agreed. 

Hence this inn, reknowned for it's extensive pleasure gardens. Fyrie could agree that the hosts and hostesses were eye-wateringly attractive and entertaining, but she wasn't actually feeling very entertaining herself. 

After listening to Mordu tell the tale of their escape from Flakpit she only felt weary, she didn't want to be admired and complimented. They had almost died that day.

 Had Mordu forgotten the Reversal curse that had turned Jiyanna's mind inside out and caused her to unleash fireballs left and right? Gallen had to hurt Jiyanna enough to knock her out, something that no one should have to do to an ally. He carried Fyrie on his back when her mana was spent and paid Mordu's bail when the city guard locked him up.

And are you planning on ever paying him back? She thought with an angry glare at Mordu who was currently canoodling  two halflings on his lap.

She stood up. "I'm going to bed." 

She had to raise her voice over the noise and pipe music. Mordu looked up and the female halfling reached out to touch Fyrie's arm.

"Surely not alone?" Her brown eyes were wide and a little moist with arousal. Fyrie felt a little of her annoyance ebb away, taking up the halfling's hand and kissing it softly.

"Yes, I am exhausted. I'm going to have a bath and got to sleep. You should have fun, though. Don't let this elf rest until you're well satisfied," she said, shooting daggers at Mordu who laughed and tugged the halfling female back into his lap.

"As if I need to be told that," he said with a grin.

"If you need someone to wash your back, don't hesitate to call!" the male halfling called to her as she left. She waved back and weaved her way through the crowded corridor to find the stairs down to the private rooms.

The lounge was built over the bedrooms, which were arranged around a natural stone bath filled with steaming water from an underground spring. The different pools could be sectioned off with curtains to create some privacy and Fyrie's room opened out on to a neat little pool of steaming greenish blue water.

 She pegged up a gauzy curtain and unseen, stripped off her clothes and put them in a pile. The cool air tingled against her nipples, her naked belly. When was the last time she'd been completely naked? Out in the wild there was no opportunity for more than a quick scrub down with cold water before someone was yelling at you to hurry up or a goblin was trying to hack off your kneecaps.

She stepped down into the hot water and let out an audible gasp. It was amazing. She sank down to her chin and felt all the aches and pains of the road begin to melt away. Was there a goddess of hot water? She would leave an offering if she found one. She closed her eyes and sighed, sending ripples out across the water. It felt good but it was a little lonely. 

When Mordu suggested going to the lounge, she had been a little excited at the prospect of canoodling some cuties too. It had been even longer since someone had touched her that way than the last time she'd been in the nude. Even snatching some quality alone time with herself was near impossible when in camp.

 She relaxed her head back against the rim of the stone basin and tried to clear her mind. Perhaps this was a good time to meditate and recoup some mana?

Above the sound of the water gently sloshing against stone, she heard someone whistling. What? Seriously? Whistling in the bath? 

The only person annoying enough to whistle in the bath was Gallen. Could there be another idiot who whistled when he was happy staying in the inn? She raised her head and listened carefully. It was the same damned tune. "Gallen?"