Chapter 74: Champion, Chapter 8: Icarus

Sunnild

The Realms

Firstday, 1st week of the 9th month, Age of the Chosen 1

Late Afternoon

Caer Macht, Mistvale Highlands

Sunnild's mind spun as the human—Aidan, she reminded herself, his name is Lord Aidan—led her through the tunnel under the hill. She never expected to see him again after he stepped through the wards, but here he was, the skin of his arm hot against hers. She could smell his scent, musky with a hint of woodsmoke and something else. Whatever it was, it made Sunnild's wings itch and her mouth water. It was almost enough to make her miss the question he asked her.

"So how is it that you recognized me? I'm sure I would remember seeing you before."

"Ah, um," she stuttered, then bit her lip and blushed. Way ta go, feather-brain! She scolded herself. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. "I was on patrol three weeks ago and saw ya slip through the wards around the city. Saw ya burn yer wardstone, too. Ya couldn’t leave without it, but the wards didn’t fall fer another week. How did ya get out?"

Lord Aidan grimaced. "That's a rather unpleasant story, and it contains some state secrets. Suffice to say that I wouldn't wish what I went through on my worst enemy."

"Oh, I am sorry, I didn't mean ta bring up bad memories." Sunnild shrank away from Aidan, but he caught her wrist with his free hand and placed her hand gently back on his arm.

"Don't worry about it," he waved her apology away, "that's in the past, and killing the Tannath Taig that captured me has banished most of the nightmares."

Sunnild felt her eyes widening. "A Tannath Taig?!" She managed to squeak. "Ya killed a Tainted Wildlord? By yerself?!" The mere thought that such a creature lurked where she was walking a few short weeks ago terrified her. The idea that the human walking arm-in-arm with her killed it was beyond her ability to process. Wildlords weren't things that ordinary folks dealt with at all, and only armies or legendary heroes—or villains—were capable of slaying one.

"Oh, no, not by myself, not at all. I couldn't even have made it to the Taig on my own. Cai and Llwyd," he gestured at his bodyguards, "were there with me, as were a few others. And I had divine help as well; without guidance from the Brighaid, it would have defeated us in the end. I thank Brigantia every day for her aid in my time of darkest need."

"What are you?" The words were out of her mouth before Sunnild thought about what she was saying, and she clapped her hand over her mouth in embarrassment as soon as she realized how insulting it sounded. To her confusion and relief, Lord Aidan laughed.

"Believe it or not," he told her, "you aren't the first pretty girl to ask me that." He gave her a devilish grin, and the glint in his ruby-red eyes made her knees weak for a heartbeat. He thinks I'm pretty! "Don't worry about it, I know it all sounds hard to believe. It's true, but I wouldn't believe it myself if I hadn't lived through it. As for what I am: I'm a man who was in the wrong place at the right time. I've suffered and benefited from that in great and equal measure, but I'd call myself lucky in the end."

"You had better, mister!" Sunnild jerked her head around and stared at the crimson-haired centaur who emerged from a side passage. She was wearing a heavy leather apron and nothing else; Sunnild could see the centaur's enormous breasts bulging out of the covering's sides. The newcomer walked up to Aidan, who smiled at her and stood up on his toes to kiss her. Sunnild felt instant, irrational jealousy flare through her as she watched the pair devour each others' lips.

Aidan broke the kiss and spoke to the half-naked centaur lady. "Love, this is Sunnild, one of the envoys from the Ash Shroud Sisterhood. It turns out that she saw me enter Ceallach Macht the first time, so she recognized me. I decided to invite her to dinner instead of her boss, who seemed revolted at the idea of dealing with a human." He turned to Sunnild and completed the introduction, saying, "Sunnild, this is Brighid, the love of my life. I would be lost without her. She's also the Starchasers' best smith, which explains why she's dressed like she is."

"P-pleased ta meetcha," Sunnild managed to stutter out. She didn't know what it was, but something about the look Brighid was giving her made her both nervous and excited.

"Mmm, likewise," Brighid replied. She looked at Sunnild for a moment longer, then turned back to Lord Aidan and bent to whisper in his ear. She couldn't hear what the centaur said, but it had to be about her. Sunnild's cheeks burned with flustered embarrassment, but a fire sparked to life in her belly.

"Yer bein' rude," she glared at the redhead. "Ya shouldn’t gossip about someone behind her back. Especially when yer actually in front of her! I know yer talkin' about me, so either say it out loud where I can hear ya or stop and apologize!" The fire sputtered out as quickly as it came into being, and she finished with a weak, "Please." Sunnild had to marshal all of her discipline to keep from hiding her face in her wings. What possessed me to call out the Lord's lady right in front of him?! Oh, Sunnild, yer such a nincompoop!

To her utter surprise, neither Brighid nor Lord Aidan reprimanded her. Instead, by some miracle, the centaur's skin turned bright red clear down her neck. Her green eyes flashed to Lord Aidan for a bare moment, then Brighid knelt down on her front legs and bowed to Sunnild, whose eyes were drawn with inexorable gravity towards the view of Brighid's breasts afforded by the gap in the top of her apron. So distracted was she by the bounteous valley displayed there that Sunnild almost missed Brighid's apology.

You are reading story Paths of the Chosen at novel35.com

"Please forgive me, my Lady Sunnild. I was teasing my Lord for bringing such an attractive woman—" She thinks I am attractive? With her beautiful hair and giant tits? Why does that make my feathers itch? "—into his home when his mate was not present. I meant no offense to you; my comments were complimentary, I swear. I was thoughtless and boorish, and I will make it up to you." Brighid raised her head at that last, and something in the gleaming emerald depths of her eyes made Sunnild's feathers itch even worse. Her wings rustled behind her as she shook them, trying to make the sensation go away. She didn't realize she was rubbing her thighs together as well until Brighid's eyes dipped below her waist.

"That's enough, Brighid," Lord Aidan declared and slapped his mate on the rump. Brighid was still kneeling in front of Sunnild, so she could see the centaur's eyes widen and watch the scarlet flush descend down into voluminous cleavage. "You're making a scene. Leave the poor woman alone and go get dressed in something more appropriate for dinner. Actually, why don't you go ahead and make dinner for us; that can be your apology to Sunnild. We'll eat in an hour."

Brighid rose and murmured, "Yes, my Lord." She smiled at Sunnild, bit her lower lip, then said, "Until later, my Lady Sunnild." Her eyes held a promise. Sunnild didn't know what it was, but she knew one when she saw it. She watched the bewildering, bewitching woman turn and leave.

"Sorry about that," Aidan's voice startled Sunnild; she forgot he was there for a moment. Somehow. "Brighid can be ... intense ... but I assure you that she means well. Now then, let me give you a tour while we wait for Brighid to freshen up and prepare some food for us."

Aidan extended his arm to her again and led her into the cross-tunnel Brighid emerged from. "We're still getting settled here, so please pardon the mess. To both your left and right are dining halls. The one on the right is smaller and has fancier engravings on the walls, so we believe it was initially intended for guests, officers, and the like. The next door on your left is the kitchen; it's big enough to cook food for a few hundred soldiers all at once. We won't be using these rooms, by the way; there are another kitchen and dining room further down the central passageway more suited for small groups." He directed her down the gently-curving hall, pointing out all the various rooms that they passed.

Sunnild

Early Evening

"—and this is my state dining area, for when I have official guests to entertain." Aidan guided Sunnild into the chamber with a hand on her lower back between her breastplate her armored skirt. She couldn't remember when he'd switched from offering her his arm to this more intimate guidance; she couldn't remember much of the last hour, actually. Yer too busy daydreamin' about things that cannot be, fool girl. He’s taken, and that is that. And yet, there was his hand on her bare skin, a finger's width from sliding under her skirt and onto her butt. If she stood up on her tiptoes, maybe—No! Behave!

She looked around the room to distract herself from the enticing heat of Lord Aidan's touch. It was wedge-shaped, with the inner and outer walls curving to match the shape of the circular altar chamber it branched off from. A long, polished marble table dominated the center of the room along with a dozen stone chairs. An arch in the far corner led into another room, presumably a kitchen. "Sorry for the lack of upholstery," Lord Aidan grimaced and apologized. "Everything not made out of stone or metal rotted away long ago, I'm afraid, and we haven't had the chance to replace it all yet. We have our own furniture, of course, in my and Brighid's quarters; I would invite you to dine there, but that might send the wrong message."

Yes, it would! "Oh, I do not want to impose!" Sunnild shook her head.

"It wouldn't be an imposition, I assure you! I just don't know whether you're looking at this as a formal dinner between representatives of two groups of people or something more... intimate."

Formal! Formal! "Why not both?" Why did I say that?!

Aidan's smile broadened, and his hand slid from the small of her back to her far hip. It was all Sunnild could do to keep herself from cuddling against Lord Aidan. It was inappropriate on so many levels, but his arm fit just right around her back and his scent was intoxicating. "Why not, indeed?" His fingers played along the edge of her skirt band as he guided her through the altar chamber again. They crossed the circular room, and Lord Aidan ushered Sunnild into his personal quarters. She looked around with interest—she'd never seen a Lord's chambers before.

The room was massive. The doorway from the sanctum was in the center of the outer chamber, which was split into two halves; each was as large as the state dining room. To her left was the Lord's private table, smaller and rounder than the massive rectangular one from before. Instead of chairs, it was surrounded by several piles of cushions. In the far corner of the dining area, Sunnild could see another archway, but she couldn't tell what was in the next room. Directly across from the exterior door was another doorway, this one leading into what Sunnild guessed was the bedroom, judging by the massive cushion in the middle of the room and the piles of clothes scattered around. And to her right was a full kitchen, complete with a fireplace, a washbasin, and more cabinet, counter, and cupboard space than Sunnild could ever dream of filling. That wasn't what made her eyes bulge, though.

Brighid was puttering around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on a meal. When she noticed Sunnild and Lord Aidan, though, she turned around. When Lord Aidan told Brighid to get dressed in something more appropriate, Sunnild assumed the centaur would don a shirt or jacket. Instead, she wore a snug-fitting garment of shimmering, silken green cloth. It covered her from her abdomen to her neck, but that didn't mean it hid any of Brighid's beauty. Whoever designed it must have made it with Brighid in mind because it clung to her like a second skin despite having no laces. The redhead's mountainous decolletage was lifted up and pushed together by cups built into the clothing. The thicker cloth was tantalizingly translucent; Sunnild thought she could make out Brighid's areolae. A diamond-shaped lace window descended from her collarbone, spread across the width of her bosom, and came to a point beneath her breasts, revealing every inch of her imposing cleavage. And, even as she stared, Sunnild saw the centaur's nipples harden, unmistakable given the size of the dents they caused.

"Oh, good!" Brighid exclaimed, "I am so glad you decided to eat with us here! Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes. Please make yourself at home!"

Sunnild felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from Brighid until the centaur turned back to her cooking. When she looked to her host, she saw that Lord Aidan had been similarly enraptured. Instead of being embarrassed, however, he looked hungry, and now he was looking at her that same way. She took an involuntary half-step back. Is this what a mouse feels like when cornered by a cat? Sunnild felt an involuntary shiver go across her spine and thought of backing out of the dinner for a moment. Then her resolve hardened. If he is lookin' at me like that now, maybe I still have a shot.

"I think I will." Her hands went to the straps and buckles on her vambraces, tugging them loose with an efficiency born of frequent practice. She pulled them off, left then right, and set them on the floor just inside the door. Next, she worked her way out of her greaves, then unclasped her armored skirt and let it slip to the ground. Her breastplate took more effort as she had to be careful when tugging the back clear of her wings, but she was well-used to doing this on her own by now.

Once her armor was in a neat pile, she turned back to Lord Aidan. "Ya did say to make myself at home, right?" She asked. He nodded at her, the look in his eyes intense. Sunnild held Lord Aidan's ruby gaze as her fingers went to the laces on her padded under-tunic and pulled them free on one side. She pressed the garment to her chest for a moment, drinking in the Lord's attention, then let it fall to the ground, revealing her bare breasts and aroused nipples to his sight. A tug at the buckle of her belt and a shimmy of her hips later, she was nude. "Well," she told him, her voice husky as anticipation, arousal, and no small amount of trepidation warred within her, "I do not wear clothes in my nest."

Zurai

You can find story with these keywords: Paths of the Chosen, Read Paths of the Chosen, Paths of the Chosen novel, Paths of the Chosen book, Paths of the Chosen story, Paths of the Chosen full, Paths of the Chosen Latest Chapter