Dont abduct me I'm Welsh!

Fire and Ice cubes.

Valdagerion’s hand was warm and strong about Mary’s, almost engulfing it. She had to crane her head to look up at his hansom, serious profile. God’s he really was like something out of a Christmas aftershave advert. But as Mary was pulled along by Valdagerion, she realised two things. Firstly that she desperately needed to use the lady’s room, and secondly that she was famished. The latter of these two issues was made very apparent by the sudden growl that her stomach made as they passed a platter of fruit. This very loud, and embarrassing gastric protest caused the elf to stop in his tracks and look down at the young woman his eyebrows raised in faint surprise.

Mary blushed in mortification. {Don’t tell me, elf’s don’t get tummy rumbles.}

“Lau.” He said with a wry smile. His voice dropped an octave, rich and dark like coffee. “Only when we are very, very, hungry.” Mary let out a small gurgle of laughter, despite his tigerish expression; and his eyes softened as he looked down at her. {I have been remiss in my duties as a host have I not?}

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Mary muttered coyly.

{I have warned you about tempting me, my little one.} He said softly, as he pulled a silk robe from the side, pulling it about her, and tying the sash about her waist, his hands lingering longer then was necessary.

(Do I tempt you?) Mary replied, curious.

“Han, q arin leuva voro sinte.” He answered. {Yes, more then you will understand.} Valdagerion seemed suddenly meditive, his oddly dark brows frowning. As he retrieved his own robe, Mary watched him walking across the room, completely unconcerned by his nakedness. His long platinum hair swayed girlishly two and fro with his step. But there was nothing else feminine about him. His hair was like a curtain revealing his flesh, and drawing her eye down to where it just brushed the curve of his ass. She could not help but admire his broad shoulders, the ripple of muscles down his back, and the defined indents before his truly Greek godlike rear.

When he returned he was covered back up again, or at least partially; in some form of dark blue loose trousers, much like a Japanese hakama. Over this were straps of dark leather, wrapped right up to his bottom ribs, secured at the front by a massive silver belt that looked like some winged beast, and then embroidered flaps of fabric, the same colour as the silk trousers hung down to his knees. However much to her appreciation, his chest, and muscled arms were still on display, and now had her voracious eyes undivided attention.

“Now, food.” Valdagerion said in Latin as he passed her one of the translator pads that he had ‘borrowed’ from the bases data room, unlike the rudimentary one he had used before this one was capable of translating as they spoke . Mary smiled at this, as she sat on the divan. He stretched out indolently across from her. “It’s still early but there should be someone about.”

“Are we going out for supper?”

“What? No. The house servants will bring us something.” He said. He sat up suddenly struck by something. “What do you like to eat?”

Mary’s brow twisted in consternation. “I don’t know? I mean what do you have to eat that’s good?”

He snorted a laugh, and shook his head, his pale mane dancing about his face already dry. His fingers came support his chin as he watched her. “Fish, game, fruit, vegetables. Much as you have in man’s land.” He demonstrated a number of dishes on another flat screen. This only served to confuse her further.

“Perhaps you should just choose for me.”

“It might take a little while.” He admitted. “Everyone is likely to sill be asleep at this time of day.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble; I mean I can wait if everyone is still sleeping. I don’t want to make unreasonable demands. “ Mary temporised.

“They are slaves.” The elf replied nonchalantly, “It’s no trouble.”

“Slaves?” Mary repeated, wondering the translation was right. But Valdagerion was already standing, and heading off to his room to retrieve his wrist communicator. Mary sighed, hoping that she had just misunderstood, perhaps he just meant servant.

The elf returned, his eyes sparkling with excitement making him look somewhat boyish. “I have ordered a few things for you to try. Hopefully there is something in amongst them that you will enjoy.”

“There is another thing.” Mary said, interrupting him.

“What is it Mary?” He asked, noticing her embarrassment.

Mary blushed again, looking very uncomfortable. She couldn’t believe that she was having to ask him this, but she supposed that having an accident in front of him would be far worse. “I need to pee.” Oh gods what if Elve’s don’t go to the loo?

Valdagerion blinked at her. “Ni’ cen.” He explained that the privy was across from his bed chamber and the bath room. Gratefully she went to find it. When she did Mary was torn between amusement, and exasperation when she found it to be a squatting toilet, with what could only be described as a bidet besides it. Well nothing for it she thought.

“I was expecting something a little more high teck.” Mary sighed as she emerged from the privy.

“Dihen-?”

“Never mind.” Mary said her mouth twitching in to a smile at his obvious bemusement. Curious she moved about his room, exploring. It was an elegant apartment, thick round coulombs of something like green marble supported a frescoed dome over a matching green stone floor. The walls were dark wood frames and what appeared to be embroidered silk panels. The whole one side of the room opened out on to what could only be described as a balcony, but on that was a pond, trees, and lush plants spilling almost in to the very room.

She could feel his gaze upon her, making her feel naked all over again. “Do you mind?” She asked conscious that she was perhaps being rude.

“Se’leana. Yura’o” {I am at your service. Feel free.} He replied indulgently, nodding slightly.

Mary continued her perambulations about the room while she covertly she stole glances at Valdagerion. He had not taken his eyes off her, his stare the fixed gaze of a jungle cat stalking its pray, the likeness was even closer now that in the daylight his pupils un-dilated in the afternoon sun were actually more slited then round.

A mirror caught her attention; out of the elf’s line of sight she checked her refection. She had never thought much of her golden locks, and sapphire eyes , always envious of her dark haired friends, but sometimes she was willing to admit that she was pretty. Her hair was drying in a wild riot as it was want to do without a set of streightners. This along with her kiss swollen lips only served to make her look thoroughly…….tumbled.

He called her. She loved the way that his voice rolled over her name. “Mharrry.” Lingering over it like a caress. Only hesitating for a moment she stepped back out from behind the pillar and came back to him, once more lost for words at the sight of him, laying with male indolence upon the divan, his arms stretched out along the back.

He pulled her to sit with him. “Now, do you feel any cooler?” He purred in his own language, as he arranged her against him.

I did, until you looked at me like that. Mary thought. She decided to opt for a safer line of conversation. “I suppose. It always like this here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oppressively humid?”

He nodded. “Our sun is larger then yours, hotter. This is why we generally sleep the hours the sun is at its highest to avoid the heat, and damage its radiation can cause. As evening comes it will cool, do not fear.”

“How come it is so green here then? Surely I should be like a desert?”

“It rains a lot.”

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Mary asked a lot of questions about his world. She was genuinely curious, but she was also trying to distract him. Clever little chit. But it was not going to work, not when she was looking at him with such wide blue eyes.

The girl no longer had a fever, but they were both sweating lightly the air still hot and humid. Gently he put her aside, crossing the room, to return with a large cool pitcher of iced water. He drank from it as he walked, coming to perch back on the divan where he had left her laying.

He glanced at her surreptitiously from the corner of his eye as he drank. Mary managed to both glare at him, and look longingly at the pitcher, the ice clinking in it invitingly. It was made of stone, and would have been far to heavy for her to hold. He placed the pitcher down and then suddenly leaned in over her, she flinched back slightly, those beautiful sapphire eyes flaring wider yet. Valdagerion lowered his mouth to hers, cupping her jaw with his palm. He passed her the cool water from his mouth, in to hers. She blinked up at him, and then liked her lips. His eyes lingered on her glistening lips, an open invitation.

“Do you want more?” He asked, his voice a low husk.

“Can’t you just give me water in the normal way?” Mary complained, but her eyes were soft, slightly dazed from the kiss they had just shared. He smiled wickedly, reaching behind to retrieve a piece of ice from the pitcher.

“Here it’s ice, its cold and it will feel good.” He said.

“I know what ice is.” Mary tried to get out of his way, but he gently pinched his chin and holding the ice between his teeth he brought his mouth over hers once more. She let out a soft whimper, as he passed the ice cube to her. Gently their tongues duelled about the ice, passing back and forth. It was a slightly messy kiss, but he was right the cold did feel good, and as it melted swiftly in the hot caverns, allowing for their tongues to finally met. And he continued to kiss her thoroughly senseless.

He did it again retrieving another piece of ice, but this time his hands began to pull her robe apart, to touch the soft skin there as he moved restlessly above her. Beneath his palm her nipples hardened, and she arched up in to him. Gently he circled them, making her moan in to the kiss.

Taking another ice cube in his mouth, he rolled it down her neck, and over her clavicle, swiftly heading for those delectable breasts. His hands held her still, as once the ice had melted, he continued to lick and nibble her nipples until she was straining up beneath him, her hips roiling, grinding against his leg. To his gratification her hands were sliding against his chest, and shoulders, pushing, pulling, stroking. He smiled, “Impatient I see.” Her reply was only a breathy moan. His one hand caught hers above her head, as his other hand flicked open her robe completely before delving between her legs, his fingers seeking the slick warmth of her petals.

The sound of a platter clattering down on the side made him look up. A young kitchen boy stood, slack jawed and startled. He had never before seen his master in such a position. With some luck the girl would not notice the interruption, and the boy would just quietly leave. But red faced the boy was already stuttering an apology.

“That’s enough.” The elf sighed, dismissing the boy. “Leave the food there we will serve ourselves.”

Mary was hastily re-securing her robe, and pushed Valdagerion off her. He ruefully watched the boy leave. “That.” He said. “Was very inconvenient timing.” But he stood and returned to her with the meal, reminding himself that there was time enough.

“Ah, it all looks so good!” Mary gushed, as the elf revealed several different dishes. He looked up to see her holding up one of the dining implements with an incredulous look upon her expressive face.

“What is it?” He laughed.

“Nothing.” She replied, placing it down primly.

“Don’t stand on ceremony, go on eat.” He said, as he poured her out a bowl of tea. Valdagerion himself was hungry, and he made a good meal. The young woman ate with obvious relish, he found her childlike unselfconsciousness, and open display of enjoyment endearing. Conversation was space until desert, both concentrating on sating their hungers. After that she bombarded him with questions about the dishes that they had just eaten. But he would have been hard pressed to repeat the conversation, as when she copied him and ate the sliced fruits with her fingers as they spoke his thoughts turned lewd.

One could hardly blame him, he watched avidly as she sucked her fingers, before chasing an escaping ruby drop around her wrist with the flat of her tongue. He chewed thoughtfully on his own piece of fruit as she described a ‘chicken,’ imagining how that tongue would feel on his skin. He studied the way that the red juices stained her lips, leaving them glistening. It felt like some kind of dance between them, a tension that like wind in a sail needed to be courted. She was delaying him on purpose, a secret smile about her lips, she was teasing him, building the tension, toying with him. It surprised him just how knowing she was, not that he minded, but for a moment he felt out of his depth and inexperienced in comparison with her obvious knowledge of this strange dance.

She was going to taste of Pirya fruit, his favourite, sweet and cool like a spring breeze. Another drop ran down her chin and she hastily brushed it away with her arm. Unable to resist the temptation any further he caught hold of her wrist drawing it away, so that he had unfettered access to her, before he leaned in licking the offending drop from the corner of her lips. Mary met his gaze, her eyes heavily lidded, passive, but interest lurked in their sapphire depths.

It was at this moment that another of the house servants made their presence known, the echo of the door announcing their presence. Valdagerion himself did not mind, his human slaves coming and going did not bother him, truth be told he paid them no mind at all, but Mary did. “Monta atoya!” He cursed under his own breath. “What is it now?”

“Pardon the intrusion my Lord.” The house servant said, bowing right down on his knees. “The Marshal requests an audience with you.”

“Where is he?”

“Lord Morcion is waiting in the hallway My Lord.”

“He has come himself?”

“I have. But what else were you expecting nephew given the circumstances.”

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Mary found herself suddenly bent forwards, Valdagerion’s hand on the back of her neck. Glancing up she saw that he to was bowing. “Wha?”

{Be silent. Just sit down. I must talk with this elf, this is important.} She sat down. The conversation was generally over her head, but she knew that Valdagerion was if not nervous, then uneasy about this new visitor, even through he offered him the upmost respect.

The newcomer was as tall as Val, and it was impossible to tell his age, but unlike Val’s platinum locks, his were pale green of all things, like a dye job gone wrong; had Valdagerion had not warned her sternly to stay quiet, and with the subtext of not to draw attention to herself she would have laughed.

It was a beautiful room. And the city below was equally beautiful, but it was not earth. Everything was familiar, and yet different. She picked up the metal implement she had been eating with, a point in case. Spork’s, who would have thought elf’s ate with sporks. Valdagerion had been evasive about just when he was going to get her home, she decided that when he had finished talking with the green haired elf then she would ask. Mary put the spork down, and saw the translation pad still on the table, it was still switched on, still translating.


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“She is unique, I will give you that Valdagerion. Never have I seen another race who bares the colouring of the first blood. But it only further begs the question’s nephew as to what is she, were did you procure her, and what is she to you?”

“She is a pleasure slave, from the colonies.”

“A human?”

“You know what some of the Sammar five breeders are like. I suppose it stands to reason that for the remoter colonies they must want their companions to look more like the real thing. I can not condone their practices, but you have to admit that she is highly fashioned piece of nature. ”

“Where exactly did you get her?”

“From the trade station at,Sarnsce” Valdagerion lied. The market close to that particular porthway was well known for it’s dubious

“So she is a pleasure slave?” Morcion repeated dubiously.

“Why else would I be trying to undress her.”

“Yes, well – I would prefer you not undress the chit in the bases corridors. It has caused a great deal of excitement amongst the men.”

Valdagerion frowned. “The men need to learn their own business.”

“Quite.” The Marshal replied. “Well if she is a pleasure slave, then you will be bringing her to the gathering tomorrow.”

Valdagerion’s frown deepened. The last thing he wanted to take the girl to was the gathering, having to display her, and take her in front of the whole court. “I was not planning to…”

“Valdagerion, you are expected, especially as you have missed the last three.” He said brooking no argument. “Furthermore, these rumours could be very damaging to you. If the girl is what you say she is then using her at the gathering will quash any rumours.”

Valdagerion did not look happy, but he bowed his head. “If it is your will.”


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A/N: Thank you for the reviews and ratings! And apologies for taking so long, I have had to split this chapter, as apparently I have no control over my characters and they are running wild! Next chapter, finally the long awaited lemon ;)


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