In Lost Dreams the Four Were Bound

10 - Neris - Of Suitors and Fetishes

It wasn't the first time Neris had been imposed upon while tending to her dozing lover, and she doubted it would be the last. As she had lined up the remaining sleeping agents and hydrators to be used that night and into the morrow, one of the huntsmen knocked on her door. Bedimer was a seasoned hunter who appeared to be in the later years of his prime. Though his eyes often wandered to her bustier blond lover, Neris would not turn away entertainment for the evening.

"I thought you were interested in our dear matron Elis, huntsman," Neris cooed from the counter. She readied two vials of oaken liquor, a gift from another gentleman seeking an embrace.

"I respect a fellow hunter, vindal Neris," the weathered man said with a smile. "I also tend to be suspicious of newcomers who take an interest in our most-prized heritage."

"Is she your heritage? To think a woman could be reduced to a historical oddity." Neris smiled in the lantern light, offering a vial to the gentleman. With a gruff grin, he took it, leaning back against her unconscious paramour's table.

"She's the only one of us who remembers things from before," Bedimer said, his hazel eyes fixed on her as he held out the tiny vial. "Everything that was important to our people is tucked away in her head, and I hope we live long enough to see a day where such things are important again."

"Ah, so it's more respect then. To a common respect between peoples," Neris said, clinking her glass against his. In unison, they downed their firewater. The taste was akin to dried oak drenched in alcohol, carrying a hint of sweetness. Overall it left much to be desired. Still, there was little to be done about what the forest folk could acquire. Anything was better than nothing.

"Aye, a common respect." The man cleared his throat, offering the glass back and motioning for another draught. Then he turned away from her and faced the sleeping man. "Until now, I've never put much stock in legends or campfire tales. Seeing this one here in the flesh makes me think of all the tales I heard in childhood. Vindal Elis's stories spooked me as a kid, and sure enough, the beasts of the woods are large and fierce, but ghost stories never stoked my fancy."

"He makes you nervous, brave Bedimer?" Despite how open he was with her, Neris couldn't help but mock the hunter as she drew to his side. They both knew this was a game, and forcing his humility or ferocity was much more fun than merely agreeing.

"All four of you make my hair stand on end," Bedimer said, shaking his dusty, hazel head. His perky fuzz-covered ears sagged as he took his glass from her outstretched hand. Neris watched as he raised the vial to his lips before tipping his head back and downing the vial's contents. "If I could have another, vindal."

"But of course," Neris said, keeping her rusty-red eyes fixed on the huntsman. He had come to her room still armed, wearing an ornate talvuo thinblade at his side. At his rear hung a silver, hooded lantern, an expensive trinket for a talvuo descended from a scorned, hidden people. Watching as he placed both hands on the table, Neris poured another glass for Bedimer and herself. With the grace of a courtesan, she approached him from behind. With catlike finesse, she reached around and offered the drink. As she felt his hand move for the vial, she pressed her stomach against the small of his back, arching her chest just away. "Here you go, my brave hunter."

"You're used to this game," the grizzled man said, easing her hand to his lips. At his direction, she tipped the glass as he sipped the contents. Drinking her own, she teased him further, pressing her bosom into his back. Laughing, the talvuo's ears perked to the sides. They extended as he stretched in place, arching his back toward her. "Like this then, vindal Neris."

"Vahratra also works if you prefer it," Neris whispered, placing a soft kiss along the nape of his neck. "Why stop at being brethren, vivahr Bedimer?"

Bedimer coughed, waving her off. "A little slower, my lady." Neris complied and drew away, holding both glasses at her waist as the man turned around. Looking him over, she could tell the alcohol had yet to hit him, causing a sly smile to creep across her face. The Hyunisti were bad at measuring their drink. "I would have another and a long visit first before I lose myself in you."

"I doubt you'll last as long as you hope, huntsman," Neris said, giggling. Her red orbs studied his hazel eyes, seeing a depth of seriousness that she had missed before.

"I'm not used to such finery, like most of my kin, but I hear a full belly does wonders to cut the worst of it." There it was: predation. Bedimer was hunting for her to betray the quarry he was tracking. Monstrous and ravenous, his eyes flickered between brown and green in the pallid lantern light.

"So, noble Bedimer, what's on your mind this evening?"

"I want you to tell me why you and your brother are changing things. Why is he so intrusive? And why did a real monster show up on our doorstep, with you and our matron slobbering over him?" Bedimer's words were cold and precise as he motioned to the glass in her hand. Smiling, Neris poured herself another drink and then handed the other vial and decanter to the prying hunter.

"Honestly, I wouldn't change a thing around here for the world." Neris sipped at her drink, keeping her eyes locked on the hunter. "My brother, on the other hand, wants to change anything that doesn't make his prick drip. He also has a way with words despite his flaws. If it doesn't pander to his ego, he loses his demeanor. But you already know that, right?"

Bedimer's eyes remained fixed on her as he sipped his draught, neither nodding nor speaking.

"If you want my personal opinion, my brother is delusional," Neris said, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs as she propped herself up on the counter. "He dreams of a united talvuo people under his proud talvuo lineage. The only thing that gets him stiffer than unrequited love is our tribe's name. Delvori greatness. Delvori blood. Delvori cum. If there was another Delvori male alive, they could bathe each other in their shared enormity."

Bedimer laughed at her brazen wordplay, shaking his head as he refocused his eyes upon her. Staring at him, she watched as the edginess of his stance began to dull.

"You seem spiteful, ne vindal." Bedimer's tone was low as he poured yet another shot from the vessel. "Not what I expected from a lady of your refinement."

"A sister's love has its limits, gracious Bedimer." Neris was cold as she finished the last of her drink. Bedimer offered her the decanter, but she waved him off. He shrugged, chuckling to himself as he downed one more drink. The man paced alongside the sleeper's table for a few moments longer, shaking his head in amusement at her words. Taking another half pour, he returned his attention to her. She narrowed her eyes at him, curling her lips.

"That still doesn't explain the blight bringer." His voice was low, the hint of a drawl hanging at the edge of every syllable. Sure enough, he had started to succumb.

"If I knew how he got here, I would tell you. And if I knew why he was here, I would whisper it to you," Neris said as she drew away from the counter, lowering her voice as she stepped closer. "As for why a seductive Delvori woman and a long-lived talvuo matron keep such a close vigil, what can I say except that the two of us are drawn to the same thing."

"And what is that?" Bedimer whispered as she looked down at him, her left hand sliding down his side while the other took the half-full glass from his hand. He shook his head, a sly grin spreading over his grizzled features. His eyes were heavy as his hand met hers, their fingers entwined.

"Danger and purpose, my dear accomplished Bedimer." With a single motion, she brought her other hand down and unstrapped his blade and lantern, dropping the sword as she pushed the silver square behind him. Gasping, he pressed forward. In response, she pressed her chest to his face and swelled as his coarse breath heaved over her pounding breast. Wearing a victorious smile, she watched as the talvuo man surrendered to her charms, pressing his pale, weathered face into her smooth, dark skin.

Starving for satisfaction, Neris ran her dark hands through his dusty hazel mane, drawing his hair between her thin black fingers. She shivered as the huntsman's rough hands unloosed her garments' knotting, forcing her breasts free. Feeling her lungs with air and her head tingling from the buzz of sensual freedom, she closed her eyes. As coarse fingers and rough lips danced along her exposed frame, she let out a low, guttural growl, surrendering to her ravenous desire.