Dont abduct me I'm Welsh!

More trouble

The Elf checked the last room. He could feel the anxiousness in the woman’s mind, and he found that he was happy to do anything to sooth her. Kyi was drowsing on his perch, and did not stir as Valdagerion passed his roost. The elf chuckled ruefully, shaking his head. “Asleep, just as I should be. Parran is right, she has me wrapped around her little finger.”

It was at this moment that he heard a scuffle of feet on the floor. Apparently the girl’s dull human senses were considerably more acute then he gave her credit for. And the moments warning was enough to allow him to dodge the first blow as someone jumped out at him from the shadows. A knife blade passed close enough to slice off a small lock of his hair.

The girl’s sudden cry froze the blood in his veins. Ignoring his opponent he spirant in to the next room with all his phenomenal speed. The ball lamp had been pushed to the floor in the struggle, smashing and plunging half the room in to dark that even his keen eyes could not pierce. Mary was being dragged up by the hair by a dark figure, her face a perfect mask of terror, fighting for her life, punching and hitting valiantly, but utterly ineffectually at her captor.

Rage such as he had never known overtook him, and he leapt at the assailant, tackling him to the ground, before throttling the unknown intruder, perching high on his chest.

“Turn off all the lights.” Thinking fast, Valdagerion ordered the girl, who had now crawled to her knees. They knew these rooms, the attackers did not, he was ready to grasp any advantage. “Now go to the bathing chamber, lock yourself in and don’t come out until I come to get you.”

Mary did not ague. And she soon crawled out of the way. Now the girl was safe he could turn his attention back to his opponent. His muscles ached with the strain, as the creature beneath him twisted in his grip, desperately trying to buck the Rhi’Arran off him, frantic fingers clawing at Valdagerion’s hands as the elf tried to crush his wind pipe. The elf jerked his opponent’s neck, violently banging his head in to the floor a few times in rapid succession, stunning him, but with the helmet on, Valdgerion knew that he had not killed him. All this was achieved in an eyes blink.

Footsteps behind him warned him that the other assailant had come in to the room. They were moving slowly, unable to find him in the dark. He moved stealthily from the prone body, his ears fluking forward all his attention in the figure silhouetted in the doorway.

With the fluidity of a hunting drake he crawled forwards. The intruder took a step in to the room. Valdagerion swung out a leg, a hard low kick that sent them sprawling. The elf was taking no chances, and he leapt up, delivering another swift kick to the ribs, it should have winded the assailant at lest, but his shin met with hard Klaress armour, the same kind of suit that he would ware when on an off world mission.

The armour clad enemy, was upon him. Punches and kicks fell, were blocked, and were returned. Bastard has bruised his ribs with that dam armour. He was good, but Valdagerion knew he was better. Valdagerion found himself roiling about on the floor. He knew that his fangs, and claws were useless against the armour, but he managed to get the better of his opponent, grabbing hold of his arm and twisting it around behind his back hard, from the sudden cry of agony he had probably dislocated it. But the elf had no mercy. He pulled the arm up harder, kneeling on his back.

He wanted to know just what by the void this was about! And if he had to twist the bastards arm off he was going to find out. And then… and then he was going to hand them over to Rillian.

An click was the only warning Valdagerion before there was a sharp report behind him, and something tore a hole clear through him. Falling forward, Valdagerion looked back over his shoulder to see the intruder he had thought unconscious approaching him unsteadily, an off world crystal gun in his hand. They weren’t using eleven bioelectricity, which was weird. He had been sure because of the armour that they were elf’s. It was too dammed dark to tell.

His vision blurred for a moment, and the creature came closer. Close enough for Valdagerion to kick out hard, knocking the gun from the attackers hand and sending it spinning across the room. They made to move for it, but Valdagerion growled. “Move, and you get one thousand volts through your body. It might not kill you, but you won’t be getting up for a few moments, and that is all I need.”

There was a momentary stand off. But then to Valdagerion’s profound relief the intruder helped the other up, and then they were lost to the shadows. For a moment he wanted to follow them. Then he looked at the blood welling up through his fingers and cursed. The wound felt like someone had punched right through him, and he was weakening alarmingly quickly. But besides his physical agony, he was fighting himself; he needed energy to heal desperately. His compulsion was already trying to draw the girl to him, like a plant drawing up water, seeking the nearest source of energy.



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Mary had been hiding in the bathroom, exactly as Val had told her to. She heard the shouts and crashing around. Putting her hands over her ears she closed her eyes and hoped for the best. She remembered seeing Val fight when they first met, he was a weapon incarnate, deadlier then a samuri sword, who ever it was, was probably getting the ass kicking of a lifetime.

It fell quiet. Mary really did intend to stay in the bathroom just as the elf had said. She really did mean to wait for Val. But in the dark, and silence there was no way to know how much time had passed. It seemed eternal. And she found herself creeping out of the door, her heart racing, seeing to be trying to escape out of her throat.

“Val.” She called softly.

There was no answer. Had Val left her here, alone, without a word? No, not her Val, never.

Tentatively she ran her hand over the wall, the lights seemed to take a very long time to grow bright enough for her to see by.

The room was empty, all apart from Val. “Val, Thank havens that you are alright!”

Val was pale, paler then normal if that was possible. His lips curled back in a fanged grimace, leaning on the pillar, slightly hunched, panting hard. Silence had fallen, apart from his harsh breathing and a soft patter, patter that reminded Mary of the sound of something spilt dripping off a table. Frightened Mary hurried over to the elf’s side, gasping when she saw the wound that Val was trying to cover with his hand, the blood welling through his fingers and spilling to the floor in a steady stream. With one hand, he indicated her back. “Stay where you are!” He ordered.

Mary started forwards again. “Val! You’re hurt!”

“No, stay back.” He barked harshly before she was in arms reach.

Mary took another step towards him, and he backed away snarling. She stayed still, where the elf watched her wearily. “Val, what’s wrong?”

“It’s too dangerous…. to badly hurt…. would hurt you couldn’t help it….” He was gasping in agony, coughing up blood, his eyes pleading with her. “Please Mary.”

Instinctively she reached her mind out to his; wanting to know what was wrong, finding it odd that he was not using the mental pathway. “LAU!” He roared, the mental push sending her backwards. As he grew more agittated blood erupted from his wounds in fresh flows.

“Ok.” She said softly, speaking as one might to a panicking animal. Winding him up was not going to help him. “Val, tell me what to do.” The elf slumped to the floor with a groan, his blood a trail on the stone behind him. “Oh, gods! Come on Val, I need to know. Don’t you have some kind of elf 9-9-9?”

He blinked, his voice slurred. “Perran.”

Mary wanted to mentally slap herself, of course Perran, the doctor. It was hard to force herself away from the elf, but she ran to the console. Her hand splayed across it, ignoring the sharp pain that accompanied her desperate seeking. Yet she had the strange sensation that this vast computer recognised her in its own slow sentient way, comprehended her distress. Please help me, help me find someone to help Val, help me find Perran.


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The red haired healer was used to being woken at all sorts of hours, for all sorts of emergencies. But this was defiantly near the top of the list for unusual. He had been woken by his wrist console, the Rhi’Arran’s human’s worried face upon it. He had actually rubbed his eyes assuming that he was dreaming – humans couldn’t use elvish technology. Dear gods, was she naked? But her words, in perfect Quetta snapped him out of it. “Valdagerion’s really hurt. Something’s attacked him.”

“How bad? And what was it that has wounded him?”

The girl looked confused, trying to process the words in her panicked state, he had to repeat them again. “Really bad.” She put up her hands, making a gesture like a hole. “This big.”

“Alright, now what with? I need to know to help him more effectively.” The girl disappeared for a moment, returning with a hand held devise, a weponised ultrasound beam. Very nasty, it beam actually liquidised the tissue it hit.

“Hurry!” She pleaded.

“I will be there right away.”


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Mary stood at the back of the room, biting her thumb nail and watching Perran working. The healer’s face was completely calm, and emotionless. It had been the longest journey of her life, that mad rush to the clinic, the streets were empty, but Val’s life seeming to drain away before her, and still he would not let her near him. Rillian and Darrah somehow knowing that their friend was in danger had arrived a few moments after Perran, and had helped bundle the elf in to Perran’s craft.

He had been placed on some kind of reclining chair, scanning machines and all sorts of other things that Mary had no clue as to what they were hovering above him, and arranged around him. Some kind of helmet has been placed over his head, completely covering his face, wires and tubes running from it. And a suit a bit like his armour had been clipped on around him, more wires and tubes coming from that. Until the only thing that she could see was his fingers, and the spill of his platinum hair.

Pumps were already pushing viscous liquids in to him, a deep red liquid, the blood he had lost. The elvish healer worked quickly, his eyes roving over the consoles, assessing the damage. He took vials of liquids from behind him. Mary recognised the faintly silvery liquid, nanites. Perran clipped them in to some of the machines before going back to the console monitoring and directing the process with the aid of a three dimensional projection.

The nannites at work in his body, Perran crossed the room, to what looked like three large containers of clear blue liquid. He activated all of them and they began to glow, humming. She heard his muffled cry behind the mask, before Val suddenly arched off the chair, his hands curling in to claws. When Mary would have started forwards Darrah had hold of her, pulling her in to a hug. “It’s ok. It’s not hurting him. It’s just giving him the energy to heal. I promise.”

“Why wont anyone let me near him!?”

“Touch him now and you will surely die.” Darrah said firmly but not unkindly. “Your body is not made to handle that sort of current.”

“And before that?”

“You see, elf’s need energy just like all living things. But our physiology, well we need large amounts of it. Yes, we get it from food, but we also absorb it from the sunlight, and almost everything we touch. At times when the body is hurt, or exhausted, well it would need a lot of energy – and the easiest energy to process is from a living being or animal. So had he touched you, he would have likely drained your life-force.”

“Would it have killed me?”

“Probably, yes.”


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“Perhaps, you should take her out of here if she is getting distressed seeing the Rhi’Arran like this.” Rillian said.

Darrha shook his head. “No, the Rhi’Arran would want her close by.”

Deciding to distract her from the Rhi’Arran’s shuddering form, Rillian addressed his friends human. “Mortal, did you see who did this?” He took her chin, looking in to her ink blue eyes. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” She replied. “Speak slowly.”

“What happened? And describe the attackers in as much detail as you can.”

Rillian had to admire the way the girl managed to pull herself together to give him a fairly through account, even if it took some time with a range of gestures, and Darrah’s help translating. He had not known that the girl had been attacked as well. It made him wonder just who was the real object of that assault. Certainly no robbery, no one would be foolish enough to steal from a Rhi’Arran and not expect the full weight of elvish law to full upon them. The girl had apparently got a good look at her attacker before she had turned out the lights, and she was adamant that they had being warring a Klaress suit. This piece of intelligence was disturbing. With the off world ultrasonic gun, he had hoped that it was the Kaldamar – bad enough that they could sneak on world without detection. But now there was the distinct possibility that the Rhi’Arran had been set upon by elves, perhaps even their own men. They certainly could gain access. But to what purpose?

He frowned. He needed more information. For now he was just going to have to wait for Valdegerion to come around, and see what he had to add.

“Where are you going?” Darrah asked, as he moved towards the door.

“I’m going back to Valdagerion’s chambers, to see what I can find out there.” He paused in the doorway, his face grave. “Darrah, stay here. For all we know this could have been an assassination attempt.”

“Yes, of course. But surely they would be long gone by now.”

“I’m not so sure. The girl described them in Klaress suits. That could make it one of our own.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. But I have my suspicions.” Rillian looked meaningfully at the girl. Her eyes widened in understanding at this statement, he had not met for her to hear. But it would do her no harm to understand the kind of danger she and Valdagerion were possibly flirting with. She was no fool, he could give her that much. “Don’t let her out of your sight. Imagine what Valdagerion would do if he comes round and finds her in any kind of danger?”

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Some hours later Mary was immeasurably relived when Parran decided that it was safe to take the suit and helmet off. He shook his head and laughed as she pressed closer. “Presumably you can now feel that he is alright, why humans must believe only their eyes is beyond me!”

Valdagerion was still sleeping the effects of the painkillers off, as beautiful in repose as ever, like a marble statue. He was pale still, his skin almost translucent, and she could see the flow of blood through his veins. The wound was closed, pale shiny skin like a faint scar covering it. Mary reached out to brush her fingers around the area. But Perran stayed her hand.

“Be gentle with him. He’s going to need another nanite course before he is totally healed. It was a terrible wound. By all rights he should be dead.”

“He’s very tough isn’t he?” Mary said, running her hand over his check instead. A small smile curving her lips as the elf unconsciously nuzzled in to the contact.

“He’s a pain in the ass.” Parran responded irreverently. “Bastard. Always expecting me to patch you up. One day, I’m not going to be able to! Can’t even here me can you?”

Mary laughed with the red haired elf. She had needed to laugh, some tense part of her unwinding, leaving her almost week with release. That sick feeling dissipating.

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Valdagerion was dreaming. Mary, always Mary; her soft welcoming body, her quicksilver emotions, her warm humour. It was a good dream. Waking in degrees he became aware of the ache in his body. It was something he had woken to before – he had been injured again. He wondered how bad it had been this time. There was some memory of the hot dull ache in his side. Tired, he lost the thought.

He fell back to dosing, lulled by the soft stroke of a hand in his hair.

He knew those fingers, Mary.

Mary.

Mary. He had to protect Mary.

He suddenly remembered what had happed, and forcing his eyes open, looking up at hers of deepest sapphire blue, her sweet face full of concern. “Mary!” He croaked. “Mary, you should not..!!!”

“Sush.” She soothed. “It’s alright. Your aright now. Perran has treated your wounds. Just go back to sleep. You’re perfectly safe now.”

He relaxed, feeling her take his hand. Weekly the elf squeezed it back. Just having her near, made him feel peaceful, and contentment like a hunting drake basking in the morning rays. Thoughts jumbled in his head, there was something important that he needed to do….. “Mary, have Perran send Rillian to me, there are things I have to tell him.”

“I thought as much.” Mary replied. “He comes, but later. Now you rest.”

Valdagerion could not help but smile at her tone, so full of authority, having decided that she was now in charge. Enjoy it while you can child, he thought. I will not be long recovering.

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Val had not been up to much, slipping in and out of sleep. He had spoken to Rillian briefly on his return. But Mary, as protective as a mother hen had ushered the other elf out, as soon as the faint lines of strain had begun to show on her lover’s face. Rillian had to hide the smile behind his hand. Valdagerion clearly enjoyed the way that Mary was fussing over him, ordering them around with her little imperious voice, politely of course, but imperiously nether the less.

Mary sighed deeply. Elf’s apparently had no clue when it came to privacy. She practically had to push Darrah out of the room, and she was sure that Rillian had hung about just to irritate her. But finally she was alone with Val.

Val had rolled slightly over on to his side, from when he had been watching her give the other elf’s marching orders. He was all flat planes, and swells of muscle, with pale silver flaxen hair flowing over his shoulders, and down his body as if in an ineffective attempt at modesty. It was the kind of hair that would have been more appropriate on a mermaid, rather then a warrior. Yet somehow it suited him.

His sleeping face was so peaceful. Thick long lashes that a woman would be envious of rested on his high cheeks. His brows slightly frowning. That proud mouth was parted slightly, full, and kissable. Mary wanted to kiss him, kiss that slight frown away, to see that look of wonder transform his face from haughty to achingly tender in a moment. To have him wake needing her as he always did. She wonderd when she had began to crave his touch, but here she was like an addict needing a hit. Needing him, needing him to need her.

His one muscled arm was resting across his side, the other loosely flung over the pillow, his hand slightly curled. Mary placed her smaller hand within it, running her fingers over his palm, feeling the calluses, the lax strength there. They were warm, and his fingers flexed at her touch. Muttering softly to himself he rolled slowly on to his back, unbeknown offering himself up to her. The sheets covering his hips slid ever further southwards, revealing his whole body in all its immodest glory. And Mary was suddenly stuck by a very naughty idea. Catlike she climbed on to his narrow bed.

She had marvelled at the sexual appetites of the elf, who seemed to have been made for pleasure. He was insatiable, making love to her until necessity demanded that they brake to eat, answer the call of nature, or even that she just needed to sleep – she had even woken up to find him making love to her. Mary watched Val’s reaction closely, as she ran her fingers gently up the sleeping elf’s torso. This was the first time she had preformed this act on the elf, and she had been privately wondering why Valdagerion hadn't insisted on it earlier. It was very odd, as every other man she had been with, desired very little else. The gorgeous elf loved to go down on her, she couldn’t stop him, not when his eyes looked up at her bright as diamonds, and worshiping and fierce. Not that she really wanted to; Val really could make her scream. It seemed like a good time to bestow this gift upon him.

The young woman moved on top Val his body heat rising to meet her; mindful of his wounds, slowly raining kisses over his face. When she kissed his lips, his soft sigh made her sit back to look down at his hansom face. His eyes opened, diamonds surrounded by black velvet, those strange cat like pupils. He blinked at her drowsily. “Maaaarrrrrhhy.” He purred huskily.

“Just relax.” Mary responded with a soft smile.

The elf smiled lopsided back. She kissed his forehead, and he sighed in male contentment, before his lashes flickered closed once again. Mary made her way down Val’s neck, lingering on the point just below his ear, where she knew that sucking on the sensitive skin there was something that the elf found particularly erotic. As her teeth scored over his pointed ears, half asleep Val was making soft, low noses of pleasure, unusual in the quiet elf.

Mary advanced down to his heavily muscled chest, her fingertips brushing lightly over his smooth hairless skin, it seemed almost pourless, like living marble. Elves, apparently were not the most fuzzy of races. Her lips descended upon his flat nipples, Mary’s nimble tongue circling. She heard him call her name again. Looking up she found him frowning slightly.

“Maarrrrhhhy, lirimaer il merna.” He said softly, a note of apology. [Mary, my lovely, I can not.]

Mary placed a finger over his lips stilling his protest, smiling fondly down at him. “Dela Val.” She replied using the elvish words that she had learned, telling him to not worry and to let her look after him for once as she pushed his silky hair back from his face in a loving gesture. “Ete nie cast ten cin ten yarsse.”

Taking his hand, she kissed his knuckle, then watched with voyeuristic curiosity to his reaction, as she sucked one of his fingers in to her mouth suggestively wrapping her tongue about it. The elf did not argue further looking puzzled, but interest kindled in his eyes. She could feel in his mind that he was wondering as to what she was up to, but was happy for her to continue when it felt so good. It awed Mary to discover that the elf would deny her nothing, that his trust in her was implicit. He defiantly needed some kind of reward, and she has just the thing in mind.

{Just relax.} She admonished, waiting for him to lay back again, and under her ministrations his muscles becoming lax.

Mary took her time exploring his body, lying prone and vulnerable he was at her mercy. She left a trail of kisses in her wake along the elf's beautiful abdomen, grinning as his breathing grew steadily more rapid. There really was not an inch of fat anywhere on him, and every muscle was defined and toned – like a man in a beach calendar. She kissed around his already healing wounds in benediction.

As the young woman nibbled around his belly button she dragged her nails down his thigh – making him hiss. Her own heart began to pound as she anticipated this more intimate encounter with Val who physically was the most beautiful male he had ever seen. The elf was already fully erect, his size still astonishing to Mary. No wonder the elf’s initial entry caused her some discomfort. Sitting back on her heals, Mary cupped his balls in her hand, rolling them around gently. She laughed to herself at the strangeness of the male sex, but admired their velvety texture. The large male seemed to tremble. It was a heady experience to have such power over a creature who was so very strong.

He looked up in time to see Mary licking her rosy lips, before smiling wickedly at him as her hand slid around his shaft. The young woman knew a moment’s hesitation, as Val looked at her his expression inscrutable, those laser eyes glittering at her. What ever he was going to say was arrested on his lips and replaced by a low shivering moan as Mary tentatively touched her tongue to the head of his desire.

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Valdagerion had never felt anything like it. He had been enjoying the young woman’s gentle touch, even though it was torture to know that he could not consummate her caresses, not unless he wanted to rip his wounds wide open again – but it was tempting. She was tempting. The little golden haired human had been a temptation from the moment that he had met her. Gradually he had relaxed closing his eyes and concentrating on her touch. He had never had a female wanting to please him so readily. He had looked up to see her smiling archly at him, erotic promises dancing in her sapphire eyes. The elf suddenly felt completely exposed, Mary only had blunt human teeth, but as she slowly lowered her head towards his most delicate area, smiling all the while he felt his heart racing, anticipation a tight ball in his stomach. But as her tongue, that slick muscle pressed over the eye of his desire his brain literally went blank.

He jerked when she did it again, harder this time her tongue rough, wet and hot, he grunted as he pulled one of his wounds as his back arched.

“Val, Val, Val!” Mary laughed softly as he winced, looking at her through one eye. She put a restraining hand on his abdomen, splaying it out. It was barely more then a feather light touch, but he was as aware of her digits as if they were a knife blade.

“Cin mhen faire amin.” He said shakily. {You’re going to be the death of me.}

She laughed again, her eyes dark with passion, her breath washing over his sensitive skin, making it ache with need. He could not help staring at her glossy lips as she spoke, her voice like syrup. “Not yet.” Her smile widened, she looked almost….predatory like some kind of hunting cat. She had never looked more seductive. “On my world we have a euphemism for having an orgasm, La petite mort, it means the little death.”

“Oh, Mary!” He moaned, as she then licked up the length of him, cradling his desire in her hand as if it was precious. For a little while he was powerless to do anything but clutch the sheets beneath him as she ran her tongue up and down his shaft. Calling on his years of military discipline, the warrior forced himself to relax he rested a hand on her head, playing with her soft golden curls as Mary began to explore him more thoroughly, fighting the urge not to thrust, and choke her as she carefully took him in to her hot wet cavern. The wet warmth of the human’s mouth was deliciously stimulating, sending shivers of pleasure up his spine in a way that nothing had ever done before.

There was no mistaking that Mary had some experience in the art of pleasuring, and though he did not care to dwell on the details of this – ever, not unless he could kill every one of those males before him – he was at this moment appreciative and rather grateful for the girl’s considerable skill.

He raised up onto his elbows to watch her, ignoring the momentary sharp pain in his side when he did so, watching her head bobbing up and down over him, her nails scoring lightly in to his hips as they twitched involuntary. A dark blue slik robe cloverd her body, clinging to her curves like water. Gaping open and framing the swell of her breasts. How he wanted to strip the robe from her, to feel that yeilding flesh beneth his hands, to taste her skin.

She glanced up at him, her lips parting, shining with her saliva and his own presplit desire.

"How does it feel ?" She asked, her voice a caress in itself. A warm puff of air that wraped around his shaft, before it cooled, making his shiver.

“Like nothing…I can not compare it.”

“And this?” Her lips descended again, and she applied more suction, her tongue wriggling on the underside of his shaft.

Valdagerion’s reply was a series of gasps. His world shrank to just the sweet friction she was providing, his vision going black and red, before something akin to electricity arched from that one point, and along his spine from his head to his curling toes, and along his skin. Then, he was there, the moment of agonizing pleasure, his complete release surging out of him, and was swallowed without protest by the young woman. He lay boneless as he caught his breath, the echoes of his sudden loud cry of pleasure filling the air around them.

Chuckling, she licked and nipped back up his body, sending little tremors through him, the elf’s body still highly sensitive. She arranged herself carefully besides him, and the threw his arm about her slim form. His voice a sleepy burr. “Do human’s usually teat their injured this way?”

“No!” She giggled. “Not that I know of at any rate.”

“Well I believe that it has done me the power of good!”

She roiled her eyes. “You are a man after all!”

“I have told you before Mary, I am no mere man.”

She was quiet for a moment, her hand stroking over his heart, feeling its beet. Holding him tighter then she was wont to do. “You could have been killed. I thought that I was going to have to watch you die.” He felt her warm tears upon his skin, her voice thick with emotion.

Her tears pleased him, a little stab of pride that he could not help. If she cried for him, then perhaps it would not be so easy for her to leave him without even looking back. “I will not die so easily. Do not fear Mary.” He said assuredly.

“Are you always so certain?”

“Mostly, yes.” He replied, kissing her forehead. But not about you, not even when I am in your mind, he thought.

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A/N; I'm not going to give away the ending ;) But i can promice you that it will be a roler coster!