The Solitary Arrow Ch. 17
After what seemed like a long while of steady crawling, and moving upward, they emerged onto a platform that was very high up in the trees. Harlen looked over the edge, stretching muscles unused to such crawling. He saw nothing but darkening woods and mist.
"How high are we?" He asked.
Hyandai peered over the side. "About two hundred paces." She said. "As near as I could ever tell, I never measured it."
"What is it?" He asked, looking around the platform, which seemed to go all the way around the tree at this level.
She shrugged. "I know not, perhaps a disused watch post." She said. "But I have never found others here. We should be safe here for the night."
Harlen pocketed the light orb and sat upon the wooden deck of the platform. "Tell me about your father." Harlen asked, maintaining his random thought patterns.
Hyandai sat opposite him, cross-legged and leaned her elbows onto her knees and her chin onto her hands.
"He is a strong elf." She said. "And a good man. He is a smith, as I've told you, and makes many a useful items for the clan and the village." Her eyes were growing misty with time's passage as she spoke. "He was the head of the clan for a short while, before my mother's death. You see, we elves are matrilineal, though we usually have male rulers."
"When an elven man marries an elven woman, he takes on her position. As my mother was the senior woman in the clan, she was the matriarch, when my father married her, he became the patriarch." She explained further. "He headed the clan. But, when the woman that ties a man to his position dies, he loses it."
Harlen nodded. "What is he like?" He probed. He had never known his mother or father, so this was very interesting to him.
"As I said, strong and good." She repeated. "But also stern and stubborn, at turns." Her eyes were now glittering. "I remember him trying to make me quit carrying my mother's hyandai all the time and me being just as stubborn and headstrong as he was."
She was smiling a wide toothy grin. "I have told you, I am considered plain by elven folk, if for my golden eyes alone." She said. "One boy who had been sent by his parents to visit me said something about it, in a most discourteous tone. I thought my father would flatten him like a sheet of steel. He grabbed the rascal by his collar and bodily hauled him out the door, and to the edge of the platform, and dangled him over it, saying: 'More civility next time you have the honor of speaking to my daughter, else you may become my first experiment in the effects of gravity upon a piece of dung'." She paused a long moment. "He was my hero, and still is, I suppose, though now I have another, as well."
She moved her slender hand onto Harlen's her tiny fingers like a child's next to his thick digits. "You reminded me of him when we first met, from your smell of hard work." She said. "And while certain of our activities have disabused me of that assessment, others have reinforced it."
"Will he like me?" Harlen asked. "Or, more importantly, approve of me, and you." His eyes held some measure of concern for this matter.
Hyandai shrugged. "I know not, these days." She said. "It is a dark time, Harlen, you must bear that in mind. We face foes from the south, powerful ones. And now, from within as well. We elves do not face war as humans do, the very act of making it, even without a single death, is anathema to us. It is not our way."
Harlen turned his hand over under hers and clasped her fingers, gently, but firmly. "It makes you beautiful." He said.
"It makes us weak." Hyandai said, nearly spitting the words. Her expression had changed to one of disdain. "We avoid fights, we appease, and we parley. What we do not do, however, is win. In each transaction we loose something, a part of ourselves. Soon, we will have nothing to give, except our lives. Which, by then, will be meaningless."
"You believe pacifism won't work?" Harlen asked.
She smiled bitterly. "Why else was I, untrained in such things, seeking the Ehladrel?" She murmured. "Pacifism won't work, we have tried it for over two thousand years. Oh, certainly, some humans and others will abide by a non-aggression agreement, but just as often, as soon as it is convenient, or inconvenient, they push again, or openly attack."
Harlen nodded to that, but said nothing, simply stroked her shoulder and hair.
Hyandai smiled at him. "I doubt you wish to speak of my people's politics." She said. "It is something that will either happen or no without you or I taking part in it."
"Your concerns are my concerns." Harlen said gently. "If it bothers you, you should talk about it, though I am not very conversant in the matter."
"Another time, then." Hyandai replied. "I have other matters of import on my mind."
She reached up and stroked his stubbly cheek and kissed him. "We are in my lands now, Harlen." She said, once again speaking elven. "Let us enjoy one another this night as folk of the wood."
He only understood about two-thirds of what she said, but it was enough to deduce the rest.
Returning her kiss, he began to disrobe her, untying the knots that held her tunic covering her shoulders and breasts. It came free and he sat it upon the platform before bringing his hand back to palm the soft curve of her breast.
The nipple hardened almost instantly and she sighed as he squeezed the soft flesh. She ended the kiss and started kissing his neck and ear while he continued kneading first one then the other mound.
Hyandai turned to face him again, but this time opening her legs to straddle his as she pressed to him, her legs folded at the knee beneath her and he propped against the tree's massive trunk. He leaned forward from the trunk while she lifted his tunic off his upper body and ran her cool hands over his chest and arms, enjoying the feel of muscles under her fingertips while biting and kissing his neck and shoulders. Her hair tickled his chin as she moved from one side to the other, and then back.
His own hands did not remain idle, though, and he had untied her skirt and laid it atop her short top. Now she was nude, save her soft boots, which she soon kicked off her feet.
Finally, she scooted back and came up onto her feet in a low squat, unclasping his belt and tugging at his pants while he kicked his own boots off. Once she had removed his trousers, she squatted back down up against him, feeling his swollen cock against her pubic mound and stomach.
She looked down at it, squeezed between their stomachs, and one of her hands followed her gaze.
As she stood up, Harlen followed, not that he had much choice, she had his manhood firmly in her grasp. She kissed and tugged him as she backed to the railing that edged the platform around. She moved to it and felt the smoothly sanded wood on her backside.
Harlen was breathing short now, and thought he knew her intent. He touched her smooth-skinned shoulders and turned her about gently.
Hyandai grasped the railing with both hands, her knuckles white even in the dim moonlight that filtered through the trees. Her chest lowered to the rail as well, presenting herself to him with her legs apart.
With a slight adjustment of his position, Harlen stood behind her and pushed his organ down toward her entrance, she looked back over her shoulder with a wide smile, her own breathing was also coming in short gasps.
Pushing himself smoothly into her, he enjoyed the feeling her soft insides accommodating him again, smooth and slick, and warm and welcoming.
Hyandai groaned as he entered her, and he felt the muscles contract slightly in protest to the intrusion. Or was it an embrace of welcome?
Soon, though she was moaning with pleasure as her body learned what was expected of it. Would it always be thus? Harlen wondered. Though he did not really seek an answer. They both were enjoying it, so why bother with such a small detail?
Her moans became slowly more insistent and she was pushing back against him as he went into her.
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