The Conjured and the exiles

Daen had walked through the halls, eyes down, her hands twisting the fabric of her gown nervously through her fingers. Lord Darcia walked beside her, she knew that his masked face was watching her, but she dared not look up at him. She didn’t need to use her third eye to know that he was very angry with her. Once within the room, Darcia crossed to his desk and took of his mask, the sound echoed loudly in the still room.

‘What was that disgraceful display about?!’ Darcia’s slight inclination of his head was his subtle gesture for her to come closer. His haughtily arched brow was his sign that he brooked no challenge to his wishes. Daen did shift nearer; one does not kick a bee hive after you have knocked it over. Darcia almost smiled, he could remember when she would have refused. Standing close to the fire in his room it reminded him of their first talk in his imperial city quarters. She wore a very similar look on her face to that evening, defiance coloured with wariness, but she like then was not afraid. The same imposibly green eyes, eyes that contained such fire.

‘I don’t know.’ Daen was currently kicking herself, she really had no idea quite what had come over her. She had not fought like that since she was a child. And what on earth had made her invoke the old laws over lord Darcia no less? Some deep feminine instinct had warned her that Vespa was making attempts towards him, but why did she have such possessive feelings towards the raven haired man all of a sudden?

‘You don’t know?’ He echoed dully. ‘I find you and my captain writhing about on the floor like hoydens and you don’t know? At least no one else witnessed it!’ Blushing furiously she refused to meet his intense gaze, his eyes gray as a thunder cloud. ‘What, now you fear to look at me little one?’

‘No.’ she glanced up at his unmasked face, her eyes briefly meeting his before looking back down again. There was an unknown emotion lurking in them, swirling in her green depths was anger still, embarrassment to, but beyond that there was confusion, and something else, it was if she looked at him as if she had never seen him before.

‘No?’ He asked, this conversation echoing one they had had what now seemed an age ago. Taking her chin in his hand, he tipped her face up so that she was forced to meet his storm coloured eyes. He wanted to discover exactly what the emotion she was trying to hide from his was. Daen found that she could not meet his stare, and so let her eyes slide off to look over his shoulder instead. He took a firmer hold of her chin, so that she could not escape him. He felt a faint tremble transmitted up his arm when she quivered struggling to repress her conflicting emotions under his scrutiny. ‘So.’ He growled, ‘Are you ready to tell me?’

She was tempted to simply say ‘Vespa started it.’ It was true, but to say such a thing was childish, she stumbled over an explanation but could find none that was satisfactory; and so a few moments passed in silence, one in concentration, the other anticipation. Daen’s mind was swirling like whorl wind, she resented Darcia’s interference in what was a private affair between herself and Vespa, she stung that he would demand an explanation when she had done nothing wrong, and she hated that it was all in defence of him! In the end something snapped within her, and against her better judgement Daen demanded of him angrily. ‘What business is it of yours anyway?’

For a moment Daen thought that Lord Darcia was going to slap her for that last bit of insolence, as his hand arched through the air towards her, but the course of its trajectory changed and he roughly grabbed a handful of her hair, tugging her head back. Daen let out a yelp of pain, as she did lord Darcia’s lips met hers in a fierce open mouthed kiss. She froze, her mind going blank, and the seething anger within her breast was replaced by something much fiercer. She tore her mouth from his, panting in indignation.

Darcia caught her about her waist, dragging her body to be flush with his, ‘I warned you not to provoke me!’ He murmured darkly in to the shell of her ear then nipped her lobe. When Daen swallowed hard, he smiled against her neck. When she was angry she was too delicious to resist. And with that thought he once again ruthlessly plundered her mouth seeking to dominate the spirited female. Never in his whole life had he felt this turned on, he was already rock hard and all they had done so far was kiss, and if she moaned like that again he thought that he may well explode on the spot.

Daen’s small hands fisted in the front of Darcia’ silk shirt, caught in her desperate grip some of his hair was held captative, as soft as the fabric. Hair freed from its warrior que black against white, a visual reminder for Daen that a feeling could be both of shadow and light, both good and bad. The young woman clung to her dark lord as is he was a life line and she was in a storm tossed sea as his tongue swept a burning trail down the column of her bared throat. He kissed across her chavicol and the tops of her breast where her dress revealed skin, sucking sometimes to raise small rosie bruises, the instinct to mark her as his own only increasing is desire to see more of her naked skin.

Pausing for a moment to calm himself down, Darcia let go of the girl, and moved to the door. Daen watched him with confusion and the closer he got to the door a growing hurt. Was he really going to leave her like this on fire with no hope of rescue? When he glanced back at her from across the room, she saw the same burning need in his eyes that she must have had in her own. ‘Go to the bed room.’ Darcia ordered, confident that he would be obeyed.

Daen was reluctant to turn her back on him, as a deer is to turn its back on a wolf one might suspect. Even as she walked, she listened for his foot fall behind her. Once within the darker bed room, its thick drapes cutting out much of the light she listened for his movements still. The moon was full tonight, and for some inexplicable reason she wanted to see its cool light. Flinging open the drapes in a gesture that bordered on ire she surveyed the silver touched landscape below her, hanging pregnant in the sky was the butter milk moon. Perhaps it was that heavenly body that was causing her to be so frenzied and unhinged. It was well known that the crazy all became more agitated round the full moon, hence moon struck. However the reason for her tumult was rather closer at hand and at the sound of the lock clicking home her heart began to hammer in her chest. He never locked the door.

Daen stood very still, like a statue bathed in celestial light. She turned her head ever so slightly so that she could glance at him over her shoulder. Gone was his shirt, gone were his boots, and gone were his breaches. All he wore was a hungry look. And Daen had a good idea of what he intended to be on the menu. She could not take her eyes off him; he was all dark blue shadows with the angles of his musculature highlighted with sliver, the same spectrum that painted he landscape beneath them. It was almost profane the way he walked so shamelessly naked towards her. As he moved the light rippled over him, like the water of the lake stirred by wind. The way his hard chiselled torso flexed, almost fluidly fascinated her as did his nipples which were already pebbled with anticipation. But her eyes soon fled lower, her focus flowing like a drop of water, ever lower, sometimes fast sometimes slow, sometimes dallying in one place for a while, like his naval, or the curve of his hip, the plane of his abdomen, the definition there as he walked, ever shifting with his predatory gait, the strong line of his thigh, and finally she let her eyes lay where it most wanted to look. And there it was the very jut of his desire nested in a dark nest of curls, the pale collum, slightly darker than the rest of his skin which stood proudly away from his body as if it strained towards her.


Lord Darcia seemed perfectly content to let her drink in her fill. Standing an arms distance away so that she could take in every nuance of his exposed body. And she did, her eyes running over every contour, every ridge, every hollow, every rise, had she been asked Daen could have mapped them all out so strongly was his naked image etched in to her memory that moon lit night.


Darcia moved to be behind Daen once again, deciding that the woman was by far overdressed for the occasion. He told her so, whispering in her ear, and placing a kiss just below it. She shivered from that feather light caress, and it made him feel like the most potent lover in the world, as if she trembled at just the hint of a touch, what would she be like tonight when they really moved on to business.

His skilled fingers unbuttoned her stained gown, pushing it off her shoulders with coxing fingers and lingering touches, letting it pool about her feet. Carefully he helped her step out of it and he drew her close with one arm, leaning down to kiss her thoroughly. And he kissed her again for good measure when he noticed a blush of nervousness spread across her cheeks as he removed her corset discarding it on the floor, and letting her breasts spring free. He deposited her upon the bed, and as he crawled up her body took his time to kiss up it. He started at her ankle, taking the quivering limb in his strong hand, and let his lips spill kisses up the inside of her leg, only to place a brief kiss over her satiny underwear. ‘Later’ he promised it. And then he continued on his erotic journey up, exploring the many scents and textures of her skin; how the skin on the underside of her arm was thinner, and so more sensitive, how her breasts seemed to swell under his touch, becoming firmer, how between her breasts it smelt of her perfume, but around her belly button she smelt of vanilla soap.

His hands began to join in with the exploration of her yielding flesh. Gods he had been dreaming of this, to have her so willing underneath him, glancing up momentarily from his work, he watched as her eyes opened, aware of his attention, even in the dim light they were green, green as grass, and now they were full of lust, desire for him. He flipped his hair back and then lowered his dark head, not taking his eyes off hers to draw one tumescent nipple in to his hot mouth. She tossed her head back and uttered a throaty cry when he began to suck greedily upon it. And she writhed beneath him as he treated the other to the same distinction, her hips rising off the bed, so eager, so impatient, seeking friction.


Her silky thigh brushed against his erection making him groan slightly in to her breast. Her hands twisted themselves in to his long raven locks; she curled and squeezed the inky strands in her grip, like a cat curling its claws when you stroke it. Her one hand brushed against the back of his neck, it was cold. The Marchadians were notoriously for their hard winters, this year was no exception, the duke a native was accustomed to the inclimate weather. Daen was not so fortunate; he brushed his leg across hers and noticed that that limb was cool also. He wondered if she had even noticed as drunk on lust as she was. Still he didn’t want to let her catch a chill; he would have to hurry things along a bit.

Sitting up he chafed her hands. ‘Cold?’

Daen sitting up to be at near enough eye level with him shook her head; but realised that she had been a bit quick to answer when goose-bumps immediately ran up her back and so conceded, ‘Perhaps a little.’

‘You know we have a traditional way for a man and a woman to keep warm in the mountains, would you like me to show you?’ He said with a good deal more gravity then the line merited.

Dean let out a brief splutter of laughter, had her stoic lord actually let a joke pass his serious lips? ‘You are incorrigible!’

He smiled at her, and then cupping her cheek drew her in for a kiss, a kiss that drew her to lean against him, pressing her firm breasts against his chest, her erect nipples rubbing across his skin like soft finger tips. Her hands began to explore the expanse of his naked flesh, her fingers were cool at first but began to warm nominally from the heat radiating off his own body. She toyed with his pebbling nipples, making him moan in to the feverish kiss, her sharp nails ran down his back, down his arms, and along his thighs, ghostly strokes that teased and titillated. His hands had found the firm globes of her rear, and now kneaded the flesh with relish, encouraging her to press closer yet.

She shifted closer, so that she was straddling him as he knelt, inching up his thighs to give her easier access to his mouth. The centres of their desires met, and as their caresses grew more feveret they rocked their hips together both instinctively seeking a way to ease the growing tension in their nether regions, biting her lip in pleasure. Darcia held on to her hips, angling his erection to slip in to her entrance as far as the fabric of the knickers would allow, then rubbed its head back and forth over her satin covered mound. He watched as Daen gasped, and her eye lids fluttered to half mast as she concentrated on the sensations. It was maddening, exquisite torture, he was painfully hard, in his mind he imagined just ripping through the flimsy fabric and plunging to the hilt in to her hot wet channel. It was time to begin a new dance.

He rubbed his lips against hers, noticing for the first time the small split cased from fighting with Vespa. The image of the fight was still burning in the back of his mind; it had been a strong act of will not to drag her off his captain and just take her on one of the tables so instantaneous and potent was his reaction to her primitive display. ‘Will you let me show you?’ He murmured, his voice resonating deep within his chest.

‘Show me what?’ She gasped as he flexed up harder in to her.

Darcia laughed in to her neck, his breath fanning out a welcome heat across her shoulder. He lent in close, nibbling up her neck. ‘Let me in Daen.’

‘You know the answer to that.’ Daen replayed softly, blushing. By the gods it inflamed him to see her blush so! For all her experience and uncensored instinct she was still so very innocent. It made him wonder what she would have been like as a virgin, on one hand he was glad she was not, otherwise there was no way he would be able to do what he had in mind. However the possessive instinct in him was momentarily enraged that any man touched her before him. But it was of no mater, no one would ever lay there hands on her in this way again apart from him. He could feal Bherith’s approval of that sentiment, and he resolutely blocked his demon from his mind.

‘I want to hear you say the words.’ He answered her.

Daen blushed further, and he stroked her arm in encouragement. Stubbornness flashed in the depths of her eyes. But when he made no move she relented and pleaded. ‘Please...’

‘Please what?’ he taunted her, but kissed her neck as a reward for her step in the right direction. ‘I won’t do anything until you tell me what you want my akemi ceri?’

The girl bit her lip, as her dark lord flicked one of her nipples languidly; he watched her reaction at his leisure, his silver gaze half lidded. If she answered him there was no going back from that point, she was dancing with a demon from that point on, she didn’t know if she was yet ready to commit to that, but the ache between her legs would not be denied, even his very sent rising off his body served to make her more and more aroused, she needed him to end her sweet misery. ‘Please, take me.’

It was all the encouragement he needed, taking one last kiss from her swollen lips he reared up, letting Daen collapse back to the bed. With a wolfish smile he slipped her underwear off casting it aside to some shadowy corner of the room. He looked over her entirely naked body with gusto. ‘Get on your knees.’ He demanded.

As Daen did so he moved behind her, hugging her from behind she sighed, welcoming the warmth of his body against hers. Roughly caressing her breasts he rocked his hips against her bottom, his breathing growing harsher in her ear, but the sign of his arousal only heighted Daen’s further. Darcia adjusted the woman’s stance, and then gently stroking the length of her back encouraged her to bend forward on to her elbows so that her rear was in the air. Darcia lying across her back, to keep her warm more than anything else moved a free hand down the front of her body until his fingers circled the indentation of the woman’s navel. The noble felt the sharp inhalation of breath, as well her soft sigh accompanying it.

‘Do you want me to stroke you Daen?’ He asked curiously. Daen made a sound like sob and he knew that she must have been biting her lip. Taking pity on her he gently ran his fingers to where he knew her arousal was centralised. Coating his finger tips in her own lubrication he then began to stroke her petal like folds to further erection. Daen arched like a cat beneath him, she practically purred like one as well he noticed much to his delight. Her whole body was quivering beneath him, like a plucked harp string reverberating; her sensitive body reacting his masterful amorous touches.

Roiling back a bit, he arranged his now painfully swollen length at her entrance. Still Darcia knew better than just to plunge violently in to her, she was so small compared with him, and he would rather cut off his own hand then harm her in such a base way. Without vanity he knew he was reasonably blessed with his size and girth, however it could pose a problem; he needed to be gentle with Daen, at least at first. The woman realising his intent far from shirking away, rolled her hips so that they would be at a more convenient angle for penetration.

Darcia not one to pass up such a welcoming invitation guided his desire to her entrance, his other hand holding her hip. ‘Slowly.’ He warned himself. Despite her eagerness he sensed that she was a little tense, he ran his hand soothingly up her back, and purred ‘Relax Daen.’ Achingly slowly he began to push his turgid length past first the easy slickness of her opening, and then in to where her inner muscles constricted about him near painfully. Daen gasped and mewed as she was stretched beneath him. He clenched his teeth, and sweat broke out over his body with the force of holding back and inching in to her. The noble actually felt his length swell further as he entered her. ‘By the gods, you’re going to kill me by the time we are through!’ He panted harshly.


Daen was trembling once more, sheathing himself the final inches with a relived sigh Darcia lent forwards to kiss her shoulder gaining in her attention. ‘Relax beautiful, just calm down and let yourself relax.’

‘Ahhh...I feal so full, it’s so deep.’ Daen said between her quick shuddering breaths.

Darcia smiled at how she had indivertibly stroked his ego. With the same aching carful slowness of entry he drew back, carefully monitoring her reactions to this. When her rigid back swayed back down he began to set a rhythm, slow at first but swiftly gaining momentum. As he picked up the pace so her moans increased in volume. This only served as fuel to his growing ardour. ‘You’re so tight....’ he bit out between his increasingly rapid and almost violent thrusts. ‘So hot... so wet....so damndably good!’

Daen’s response to his hot words in her ear was to let out a low strangled moan, words escaping her, been driven out of her by his powerful thrusts, a he forced her along to something spectacular. But every time that she thought that she would reach that pinnacle he would slow making her wait. ‘So sensitive, so easy.’ He had teased her with smile. Thrice he did this only to build her passion back up again, now he was as desperate for release as she was, stamina only counted for so much. He needed to cum, he needed to let go deep inside her soon. For the last few minutes he had been holding back himself, waiting for her, she was close, ever so close, he could tell by the way her inner muscles clenched and rippled around his length. It really was going to kill him, he was slick with sweat, his muscles straining as he fought his own climax, hoping to stave it off for a another few moments, but the massage her inner walls though oh so welcome were adding to what was torture!


The dark haired man’s eyes were closed tight, quite some time ago he had shut them, discovering that the sight of his length plunging in to her depths was too much for him to bare, making him want to finish right then and there. Now they opened to watch as the young woman clutched the blankets beneath her in her hands, and her body tensed, he thought for a second that she had actually stopped brething and he watched as a long ripple passed through her body. It was like watching a wave sweep over your head to engulf you as the ripple transmitted down her inner muscles, milking his shaft and he came with a wild abandon, pumping his essence deep into her as she suddenly became the tightest place on earth.


Totally spent he fell forwards on to the girl, as his legs gave out. He rolled to the side a little, and Daen didn’t seem to mind for the moment. The noble kissed her forehead as he often did before they went to sleep. ‘Are you not warmer?’ He asked her remembering the earlier conversation.

Daen let out a horse laugh. ‘I suppose I am!’ They lay together slick from sweet, hair mated to their bodies, and let there breathing return to normal, sleepy now from the exertion and both basking in the intensities of their completion. A loud bang suddenly went off startling the young woman from her dosing. She sat up quickly her heart racing. ‘What was that?’

Darcia groaned, and rubbed his eye. ‘What was what?’

Another explosion went off and Daen practically jumped in to his arms. ‘Like that!’ she shrieked.

Her dark lord chuckled and gathered her in to his arms. ‘Oh, it’s only some fireworks; they are Timor’s invention, lights to welcome in the dawn, though normaly we hold them at midnight, look.’ He directed her gaze to the uncovered window. Over the lake rose a bright spark of light, intense in its whiteness, when it was high above the water it exploded loudly and the spark fell back to the world in a shimmering crackling curtain of falling stars. Daen lay half on the dark haired man, her leg slung casually across him, her head resting on his chest as she watched other rockets been sent up, and their breathtaking falls. Though she did not like the noise, they were pretty. Darcia who had seen the fireworks before was rather more taken with Daen’s reaction to them. When she looked back she saw that he was watching her, his soft expression was a startling revelation that made Daen’s heart constrict in her chest. But before she could ask him a question that was forming in his mind he kissed her, erasing the fledgling thought.

They settled down against each other, falling in to a deep and untroubled sleep for a while. This time it was not Dean who was rudely awoken but her slumbering lord when she began to cry and thrash out in her sleep. Clutching her closer he stroked her hair murmuring incoherent endearments to her. He was used to her nightmares by now, she normally made inarticulate noises, but she was not to surprised that she was talking, ‘Dead dog.....shadows light by fames....water for the thatch...’to Darcia it sounded like gobbledygook . The woman suddenly went rigid and her eyes opened wide. He looked to see if she was awake, but her eyes were glassy, like a dead fishes. And a few of her words suddenly reached through to him and froze him down to his core. ‘A girl and a baby left alive.....everyone else dead......a raid....Cyrch....burnt to the ground.....they are so cold....’

Before he woke her to ask her the meaning of her dream, he became aware of a loud knocking and raised voices outside his locked apartment door. Not bothering with anything more than a blanket to hide his modesty he went to the door. Outside was a foot man, behind him Veione was just taring up the hallway demanding of the servant ‘Have you managed to rose him....oh ...my lord.’

‘Veione, what is the meaning of this?’ Darcia asked reasonably, though he resented the intrusion he saw by the grim set of his captain’s face that something serious had occurred.

‘Cyrch has been burnt to the ground; the rider from Delft only got here not long ago, apparently his horse spooked at the fire work so he had to walk the last mile or so.’ Veione reported passing the roughly written missive over to his lord. ‘ The only survivors were two infants. Some people from Delft went to visit family and found the village destroyed everyone dead. They say murdered by the looks of it but we won’t really know until we get a look ourselves. ‘ Darcia scrolled though the twist of paper swiftly. He glanced back towards his bed room. ‘My lord?’ Veione prompted when Darcia appeared deep in thought.

‘See that the messenger is feed well and bedded. Tell him I will see him first thing in the morning.’ He replyed.

‘Don’t you want to see him now?’

‘Veione it’s not long until dawn, we had best all get some sleep, though it pains me to admit it there is nothing useful we can do for Cyrch right now.’ Darcia said wearily. Veione bowed and excused himself. When he closed the door lord Darcia punched the wall hard, grazing his knuckles. He looked down at the wound and laughed at himself, foolish, as if harming himself made letting a village be wiped off the face of his map any more bearable, or made him any less responsible.

He made his way back to bed, for once taking his own advice, though he did not expect to be granted much rest. Daen was awake; she looked up at him like a small child. ‘When I woke you were gone. ’ she said not quite an accusation. She still smelt of sex, of him, and her own sweet sent, inhaling it like it might cleanse his mind he settled against her once more holding her close to him, tomorrow was soon enough to ask her about her dream.

Sleepy Daen was always more affectionate, she nuzzled in to him, her ear over his heart. After a moment he asked. ‘Why do you do that?’

‘Do what.’ She yawned.

‘Sleep with your head on my chest,’ He elaborated as he stroked her satiny locks. ‘And you always seek out that same spot.’

Ungraded in her sill half dreaming state she answered simply without demure, ‘It’s so I can hear your heart, as long as its beating I’m safe, and I am not alone.’


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a/n; Thank you Kynrael, Luinil_Telcontar for your continuing reviews, they are always so encouraging! Sorry about cilffing, I try not to do it, as it is evil but you know what its like when you get to about 8000 words and your knackered.

Raynee thank you too, I will try to improve the grammar and the spelling, it might take a while for me to go back through the older chapters however. As a dyxlexic I don’t always pick up on errors straight away, but thanks for the head’s up, it’s appreciated. I hope it’s not so awful that it’s put you off completely!

Any way hope you enjoyed this latest instalment.