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  • Love Potion Ch. 03

Love Potion Ch. 03

12

Ithildess felt her stomach rise and drop again to the slow bounce of the jungle raptor, as it trampled and sunk its claws into the ill-defined path it treaded. It wound its way through the trees seemingly at random, but the mount was as agile as it was imposing, cutting across the jungle floor with ease, even when the beaten path became completely obscured. Claustrophobia under the open sky was a strange sensation to her, if it had been at all possible to look up and see islands of white drifting across the open blue, but in the jungle it was dark. Dark and damp. Her leggings chafed against the saddle and she was certain nowhere on her body had been left dry; sweat matted her hair, rained down her forehead, stung her eyes and made the clothes on her back stick like a thick film to her skin. All kinds of trees and plant-life encroached on their riding party. Long, curved trees that tapered off at the top and opened its crown like a parasol, snake-like trees that had climbed along the bark of another to reach daylight, trees with massive girth that shot up far beyond the canopy, and even trees barbed with spikes and murderous saplings struggling for the top, as one tree had fallen with age and left its reservation in the sun.

With every sure stride the raptor took, Ithildess felt her bruise throb with pain, but she kept silent. No use complaining when she was sure Zul suffered just as much, judging by her equally sweaty self and her annoyed, labored breaths, as if searching the air for something but always coming up short: the air around them was both warm and heavy with moisture, and still like a crypt, but at this stage she would've greatly preferred cold, dead halls to Stranglethorn. Ithildess pressed the canteen between her legs, icy cold and dotted with drops of water provided some relief from the humidity. She took a swig and the coolness passing her lips tasted sweeter than ever.

"Have some water, Zul." Ithildess said and refilled the steel canteen with conjured water, chilled by arcane magic. She touched it to the troll's back and she yelped, then sighed, took the canteed and drank deep, holding the reins with one hand until the container rang empty.

"That must be the best water I have ever had," handing it back, she gave a deep sigh and a loving squeeze to Ithildess' thigh. "I thought I'd still be used to this heat, but it's become far fiercer than I ever remembered it being."

"Why is it so hot?" Ithildess asked. Zul had long since discarded her armor into the leather packs on the side of the raptor, and her shirt, translucent with wetness, clung to her back, flushed darker blue and muscled and strong. Ithildess kissed between her shoulder blades and the humidity suddenly wasn't as unbearable.

"The trees trap the air and the water. No wind blows here, the air is stagnant. Old leaves and plants rot under our feet and adds to that, think of it as riding inside a glass bowl."

"You know so much about these jungles."

"Not as much as I used to," Ithildess could hear her the smile and the voice weighed by nostalgia as she started, "we used to hunt in the jungles all the time. Our village found or made our own passages for animals to travel by. The jungles are difficult to traverse, and an animal will always seek the route that is simplest; clearings, little dirt paths, or close to waterways. Knowing the jungle is key to not starving."

Ithildess felt herself taken by Zul's words and she imagined the scene before her; a hunting party combing the jungles, thinking like an animal and moving along their nature-made paths. She hugged her close despite the heat, she was her hunter troll, the capable and dependable. The knowledgeable, strong and bold. In Zul she could find her own strength—at least to beat this thick air.

Armed with a curiosity from Zul's stories and the feeling of her returning to her home, in body and spirit, Ithildess asked, "What's your village like, Zul?" Share with me everything you are, she thought.

"For one, there are no trees in or around the village, so the air won't suffocate you," she joked. "We made huts, walls and palisades with the wood when our numbers grew, and we built along the beach."

"Beach?" Ithildess parroted, voice bright with wonder.

"You'll love it. Sparkling water with plenty of fish and a long stretch of shoreline. We get food from the sea and from the jungle, and water from the rains. You'll like it for another reason but you should find that out for yourself," she could her Zul's mischief color her voice. "I can't wait to show you around."

They arrived to a deep cut in the jungle; a shallow, rocky stream beset on both sides by muddy slopes where a great river had once split the land. Zul leaned back and so did Ithildess as the raptor slid down to the riverbank, uneven ground littered with damp boulders and thick, smooth gravel. Now Ithildess knew why raptors were the mount of choice in these parts, its claws gave it steady footing where everything seemed to be slippery. Even uphill it left terrifyingly deep marks in the wet soil, and in a few strides they had passed to the other side and were greeted by another path; well-trampled by both troll and animal, wide enough for one full-grown mount to pass without its rider getting pummeled by leaves and loose vines. Not far away, the sound of drums rumbled through the mass of trees, the bass resonating with Ithildess and making its way through leaves and trunk, still air and calling birds. The sound was exhilarating, and marked to Ithildess the threshold into Zul'raja's world.

"Is that them? Why are they playing?"

"They must've sensed our coming." Zul took the reins with one hand and pointed to the ground. Next to a rock a wooden totem had been planted, and the empty eyes of a tribal mask seemed to follow them. Voodoo magic, she thought as her heart raced. A real troll village was somewhere beyond the trees, and it was getting closer.

"Are you sure they'll like me?" She asked. Sin'dorei weren't always welcome, a magic addiction didn't invite any friendships, much less so when it came to the previously fel-tainted orcs.

"They'll like you, you're strong and wonderful. If someone doesn't, you prove to them that they should." The confidence placed in Ithildess by her lover troll made her beam each time; she would prove to be one to trust.

The trees began to thin out, and rays of sun and direct, clean heat reached into the jungle. The path had widened and three raptors would've been able to ride abreast here. A palisade with sharpened tops became visible through the last of the trees, each pole thick and sturdy, fronted by a dry moat dug into the earth, reinforced by sharp stakes buried deep and dense. The muddy road led to what was the front gate, a raised portion of the wooden wall connected to a frame that lowered from the other side. Two male trolls came to meet them, their spears thankfully pointing up rather than forward. The shorter guard had his hair patted down by a curiously tight-fitting helmet of red leather reinforced with metal studs arranged in guarding patterns. His face was a mass of deep grooves from where his eyes scowled suspiciously, and his wide mouth strained into a rigid line. Both wore little armor: leather harnesses, a furred loincloth, shoulderguards of wood shaped like the mask Ithildess had been pointed to, ankleguards of studded leather like the helmet of the first troll. The older guard commanded a tall, faded green mohawk, choosing instead a strange headwear that seemed to her a headband, but had protection for the sides of his face as well as an assortment of long, black feathers and sharpened claws of Vale raptors. The older had a glance at Zul, and his eyes went big; he slapped the broad end of the spear against the younger one's flank and hissed angry words in Zandali, the troll tongue.

"Zul'raja!" He shouted, followed by quick smatterings that Ithildess had no hope of catching. Zul replied with a few quick words of her own and leaned to the side, revealing Ithildess, soaked through and hair matted and mussed.

"Sin'dorei." His voice was impossible to read, but a few words more and Zul was on the ground, helping Ithildess off the saddle. They could distrust her all they wanted, just no more riding or the skin of her thighs would likely erupt in blisters, she thought as her thighs ached. Zul took her hand and squeezed, unpleasantly clammy but she had missed it nonetheless.

"Kiss me," Zul said with a sweet, gentle voice. Ithildess stood and stared.

"They think you're my prisoner, so pull me down and kiss me. Show them I'm yours," she flashed a grin, just quick enough to catch and for her elf heart to jolt to life. Prove to them, Zul had said. She reached around Zul's neck and took a handful of her collar, jerking her down like an impatient lover and holding her in place as she robbed a kiss, forceful and demanding as she could be. She had learned to tell the different textures of their affections apart, Zul wished the guards away and for their privacy, Ithildess translated from her lips. Silence blanketed her and for a moment only they existed. Reluctantly she broke away, Zul blushing bluer and having a curl on her lips that Ithildess knew well.

The two guards erupted in laughter, slapping Zul on the back and leading Ithildess inside by the shoulder. The trolls exchanged a few words, then she turned to Ithildess, "We'll get changed and have the shaman see us, then we'll finally settle down." Ithildess relished the thought of dry clothes as well as a naked Zul, even if it only meant a minute together.

As they passed the gate, Ithildess stumbled as she took in the sights of Zul's village, or at least a part of it. A breeze from the sea cooled the sweat on her forehead, and further away she saw slivers of azure ocean lap in waves against the white sands. Huts, cooking tables, meat racks and braziers were strewn along the shore, just out of reach of the sand, and tendrils of smoke striped the blue sky all the way to the far end of the shore where the palisade ended in a guard tower at the tip of a finger of beachhead reaching for the sea. The huts were small things, foundations raised off the ground, with canopies of either leather or bound leaves. Ithildess first noticed the quiet, the waves made their rush towards the shore and salty winds whispered between the wall-less buildings. That surprised her the most, that some of the huts were little but a floor and a roof with only a simple frame of wood to support it. But the way the air soothed while the sun heated and dried made her realize it may not have been such a bad decision. In those huts she saw faces, young and old, peering at her with what looked like curiosity.

They, however, were headed towards a tent, raised tall and wide, made from a clear patchwork of several different hides. The entrance had been draped shut and two small torches guarded the outside. Zul entered first and waved in Ithildess from the dark interior, "The shaman should be here soon," once inside, a furious bear roared at her in the dim light. Rugs of black bears, tigers and other great beasts littered the floor, and their expressions were locked in combat. Hugging the walls were low tables and shelves with all manner of preserved animal parts; hearts, claws, even eyes preserved in a cloudy yellow concoction. Under the beam of light from the smokehole in the middle Zul had undressed, and the shadows played to an exotic mysticism as they draped her body. Ithildess swallowed, every time she saw her lover naked, she appeared in a new light: this time, she saw all of her. Her lust for trolls went further than their bodies, yet looking at the one she had fallen for, there could be no doubt that Zul had her in a spell that fed on her love and lust equally. There is such a thing as perfection, she thought, not forming the words in her head but knowing them. Her eyes journeyed up legs sculpted from battle to their apex, a wild brush of red hiding away what the bare thought of made the blood rise to her cheeks. Zul's breasts were by no means large for her kind, but they stood firm and still did not fit in Ithildess' hands; she remembered the sensation of how her nipples poked and hardened against her pressing touch and had to steady herself from swooning.

Through the sweet smell of incense she went towards her love as she was beckoned by her amber eyes, with arms at her sides she let Zul peel sticky garments clinging to her skin. Naked, she shuddered and steadied herself on her troll, a hand on her stomach to feel the muscles beneath shift with her breathing. Like before, she tugged at Zul to close the distance between their lips. They met, and briefly Ithildess appreciated her upturned tusks, thick as any of her fingers and pointed, but allowed them to kiss with all the passion that trolls with jutting tusks could not afford to express. "This is a place sacred to shamans," Zul husked as Ithildess' molded her hand to her breast. Her skin flushed and warmed, but not from the tropical heat.

"I won't stop," she looked at Zul, firmly into her eyes to see what her rolling massage of her bosom would do. She aimed to see that noble face of hers limn pleasure through the slight furrow of her brow and the languid way her eyes closed. She licked the side of her breast, tasting salt and sex as Zul's lips began to part, rewarding Ithildess with a labored sigh.

"I wouldn't let you," Ithildess was pulled closer by the small of her back, with no time to break as the flap to the tent opened and a young woman ducked through.

"So Riki speak de truth." She looked the couple over, "Zul'raja return with a sin'dorei on her lips."

"Yaanji," Zul started. Ithildess had expected an old wise troll dressed in all manners of ritualistic garb, but the girl that stood before them was short, scrawny and had a pelt, like the one they stood one, draped over her back and the head of a tiger perched on her scalp. Seeing as Zul made no effort to cover herself, Ithildess stood incredulously with arms limp at her sides, "where's your father?"

"I be shaman now," she said peeved, like her abilities had come into question, "his duties be mine."

"Then you won't mind a test," Zul said, and Yaanji laughed, "I see de bruise ya elf-gyal got there, don'cha think I blind." She tossed the tiger's head back, and the skin cloak suddenly looked far too large for her as it dragged across the ground behind her. Hollow bones and claws rattled from her ears as she approached Ithildess, the air around her smelling strange of some animal or other. From her raised hand, ethereal green tendrils sprouted and penetrated the discolored skin, the feeling was tender where she had expected pain. Pressure slowly alleviated where she thought there had been none, and the purple hue vanished and left her skin healthy.

"De bad blood be gone, but de muscle be hurt still, ya need to rest an' eat." She retracted her hand and turned to Zul. Ithildess felt the area, no longer painful to the touch but tender underneath. She didn't mind, a real shaman had laid hands on her which not many elves could claim. She wouldn't let her childish joy show.

"Dere, my task be done proper," she stood proud to Zul, who smiled sincerely and hugged her tight. "Yaanji, last time I saw you you were just a little girl in your father's shadow."

"I missed ya." Yaanji melted like butter and sank into Zul's embrace, as if she had turned back years. Ithildess wondered what kind of person Zul had been before they met, at that moment she saw a hero in her and it made her heart swell in her chest.

"We'll sit and talk outside soon, I need to be alone with Ithildess after the travel here," she laid a hand on Yaanji's shoulder and she pulled her animal cowl after her head.

"Nobody dare disturb dis tent, dey still be frightened of all dis juju." She exited the tent and stuck her head through with a nagging glance, "Covah yaself before ya come out, and ya betta not mess up de rugs wit ya copulatin'." They were left alone, and Zul led her further back.

Zul sat down with her legs tucked under, and Ithildess moved behind and begun straightening out the trusses of her blood-vibrant hair. The mohawk that had slumped over like a withered plant concealed great lengths that Ithildess combed her fingers through. She aired it and let the strands pass through her hands like sand, and it smelled of Zul and the jungle. With help she put it in several thick braids, clasped with brass rings that sang when they came together.

Ithildess finished the last of the braids, then swept them from Zul's back and kissed her neck, down to her shoulders and shoulder blades, slowly down her spine, she teased with the tip of her tongue until she heard her troll moan and her body shiver. "I want to be inside you," Ithildess whispered in her ear, and hugged herself to Zul, aware of her taut nipples pressed into her back. Zul breathed, "I'm yours," and leaned into Ithildess; with a shudder she drew their lips together. Ithildess felt herself loving the weight of Zul against her, leaned back and completely trusting. She had control and it was exhilarating, the ability to touch Zul as she liked; she raked her fingers through the matted, red down of Zul's sex and felt the hard smoothness of her stomach flex with each beat of her excitement.

"Please," Zul said, breath catching when one small hand clasped her breast, "I'm not good at handling teasing—Ithildess I want you," she pleaded, and drew a sharp breath as Ithildess moved to provide for her, felt her body tense against hers, and know the effects she caused. Ithildess cupped her sex with tantalizing movements, giving a finger just the slightest of pushes to pass Zul's indigo lips and gather her essence on its tip, and wet her clit with small circles. It hardened against her, like Zul stopping in anticipation; she panted softly but Ithildess controlled her breath. A soft grind and her breathing came to a stop, one finger inside and she twisted and groaned; and that is my punishment, Ithildess thought. Not being able to respond to her, to give and take of all the sounds she made for her. Instead she would give for the both of them.

"Will your Loa see us? Speak to me, my love," Ithildess said, and licked the marks her nails had once caused, as her fingers became two, three, then four inside Zul, they flexed and ground inside her to moans that became cries as her insides tightened.

"They can watch all they like... ohh—Ithildess," Zul's voice shook, and Ithildess felt the signs that she was close, her imminent orgasm permeated every muscle, tensed it rigid and brought a strange heat to her body as blood rushed through her. "Kiss me, kiss me, I can't keep silent..."

They kissed, and at that moment she crashed, and Ithildess felt Zul's orgasm like a strong pulse of pure vitality, a frantic beat against her fingers, against her lips, against her body. Ithildess felt her entire being stir with profound love for the troll in her arms as Zul came shuddering against her, a heightened moment of tension rolled and swelled like waves to the shore, gripping her invading fingers in a desperate clutch, followed by a calm, deep lassitude.

Zul was let down and laid beside Ithildess, smiling and out of breath as sweat beaded and caught light on her forehead. Ithildess felt her love grow each time their bodies united, each time Zul was gripped by pleasure that she was the cause of. Her hands came back slick with a familiar scent. They shared the rich essence between them with pleading kisses, struggling for a little bit of self-control.

"How long have we been in here?" Ithildess worded between kisses,

"Not long enough," Zul didn't let her rise, even if it took no convincing on her part. "Come night you'll have no escape," she tried her best villainous impression and Ithildess laughed and silently thanked all the gods above, below and around for this stupid, overgrown, beautiful and maddeningly sexy woman; a friend as much as a lover and a protector.

12
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