Beneath the Armour: An Elven Desire

Chapter 2

Faythistle helped pack the camp in the early hours of the morning, her fingers nimble despite the cool, biting air that nipped at her skin. The sky was still a blanket of deep indigo, pierced occasionally by the weak glimmer of fading stars. She moved with purpose, but also with a deliberate effort to stay away from the other humans. Their stares, filled with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, made her skin crawl. Yet, she felt the Commander's eyes on her, a silent promise of protection that steadied her nerves.

As the first golden rays of the sun began to filter across the land, casting long, stretching shadows, the company mounted their horses. The air was thick with the scent of dew and the faint, earthy aroma of the forest. Faythistle's horse was tied to the Commander's, a few meters of rope giving the animal room to move but ensuring she stayed close. She tried to keep a low profile, her heart pounding in her chest like a wild drumbeat.

"Drake, what are your orders? Are we to return to the kingdom?" Drax asked, his horse trotting alongside the Commander's. His voice was gruff, tinged with the weariness of countless battles.

"We continue on course. We need to arrive at Weatherthorn to deliver King Riland's orders," Drake spoke firmly, his tone brooking no argument. His face, though hardened by years of leadership, showed the telltale signs of fatigue and the thin line of a fresh wound beneath his eye.

"You're wounded, Commander. We'll be pushing to make it in time. It's still going to take three days, or two if we really push it," Drax replied, concern evident in his voice. The loyalty in his eyes was unmistakable, but so was the worry.

"We stick to the orders. Wyatt is waiting in the next town. Plus, I've got my own healer," Drake replied calmly, casting a sidelong glance at Faythistle. His eyes softened momentarily, a rare glimpse of the man behind the leader.

Faythistle felt her cheeks flush at Drake's comment. She was a healer, yes, but navigating the complexities of human ailments and emotions was new territory for her. She only assumed they were similar to elves, but assumptions could be dangerous.

Drax glanced back at Faythistle, his face contorted in a mix of distrust and disgust. "Drake, you can't be serious," he said, his voice barely masking his contempt.

Drake turned and glared at Drax, his eyes hard as flint. "Do you have a problem with my lead of command?" He growled, his voice deadly calm. The air seemed to crackle with tension, and Faythistle's skin prickled with fear at the menacing tone.

Drax recoiled slightly, his bravado faltering. "You know I'll follow you blindly, Commander. It's their kind," he said, his voice trailing off as he cast another wary glance at Faythistle.

Drake's eyes darkened, a dangerous glint forming. "What did her kind do to you?" he demanded.

There was a heavy silence, the only sound of the rhythmic clopping of the horses' hooves against the dirt road. Drax sighed, looking away, his shoulders slumping. "Nothing," he muttered. "But the journey is long, and our men will be tempted."

Drake's demeanour changed, a dark, deadly aura radiating off him. "I don't care if any of my men touch a female who is unwilling. They will meet my blade, Elf or not," he said, his voice a low, threatening rumble.

Drax nodded his agreement but didn't respond. "We'll take the path towards Woodpine. It'll half our journey," Drake ordered. "Bandit territory?" A soldier called in confusion. "Im sure you men could use a little action," Drake hollowed back. The soldiers gave a short cheer. Drax slowly drifted back into the convoy of soldiers, leaving Faythistle and Drake at the forefront. Faythistle's heart was still racing, but she felt a flicker of gratitude toward Drake. His protection was a fragile shield in this world of distrust and prejudice, but it was something she could hold onto.

As they rode on, the landscape changed around them, the lush greenery of the forest giving way to rolling hills and open fields. The sky transformed into a canvas of breathtaking colors—pinks, purples, and oranges blending together in a symphony of hues that painted the horizon. Fay couldn't help but be captivated by the beauty unfolding above her. The world seemed to hold its breath in that moment of dawn, and she felt a sense of peace wash over her despite the uncertainties that lay ahead.

Drake, ever observant, noticed the wonder reflected in Fay's eyes. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he remarked, a hint of softness in his tone. Fay turned to him, a small, genuine smile gracing her lips. "Yes, I've never seen anything quite like it," she whispered, her voice filled with awe.

Drake studied her for a moment, seeing a glimpse of innocence and curiosity in her gaze. "You never ventured outside the forest, did you?" he inquired gently. Fay's cheeks flushed, a mixture of embarrassment and vulnerability crossing her features. "I know it must sound silly, but we had everything we needed there. And why leave when you have been told stories of the monsters that have overrun the lands? The elves came looking for peace and got slaughtered by your king... well, that's the elders' version anyway," Fay explained, her voice tinged with sadness.

Drake furrowed his brow, intrigued by her perspective. "What's your version?" he probed, genuinely interested in hearing her side of the story. Fay smiled softly, meeting his gaze with a mixture of wisdom and innocence. "I've also heard that the elven kingdom was seeking a truce to poison the human race. I doubt many humans know the plants and flowers around the lands. A simple blueberry looks identical to a mellylock. One tasty one will melt your insides. From the little I've seen, I'm leaning towards that one," she shared, her words laced with caution and understanding.

Drake couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh at Fay's insight, a sound that seemed to echo through the still morning air. Fay's eyes widened at the unexpected beauty of his laughter, a sound she had never heard from him before. In that moment, his face transformed, becoming more youthful, more gentle, revealing a side of him she hadn't seen before. She couldn't help but smile softly at this complex and intriguing human before her.

Drake grinned at her, shaking his head in amusement. "You know what, little elf, I don't disagree. But what goes around in our history is that the elves got mixed up in the middle of our war. The Battle of Firsts was told to be brutal on all accounts. It was held in the valley of Ox, a couple of hundred miles to our east. Horrible lands, lots of mountains. The elves got caught in between the armies, and, well, as you could imagine..." Drake's expression grew sombre as he recounted the grim events of the past.

Fay tilted her head slightly, contemplating his words. "It's interesting how our truths are riddled with holes," she mused, her gaze thoughtful and introspective. Drake observed her with a newfound curiosity, realizing that she was not like the elves he had imagined. There was a pleasantness about her, a willingness to embrace new experiences and perspectives that were both refreshing and baffling to him. In Fay, he saw a glimpse of a world beyond his own, a world where innocence and openness still thrived despite the darkness that had tainted so much of their small but shared history.

As they rode on, the weight of unspoken thoughts hung heavy in the air between Faythistle and Drake. Fay found herself stealing glances at the Commander, her mind wandering to places she had never dared explore before. In the dimming light of dusk, she observed him with new eyes, admiring his strength and the aura of a protector that surrounded him. To her elven eyes, he was a vision of a warrior, a symbol of safety and security.

Lost in her musings, Fay felt a flush of embarrassment colour her cheeks as her thoughts drifted to unfamiliar territories. The concept of mating, of intimacy, was a realm she had only glimpsed through furtive readings and whispered tales. She imagined the humans engaged in such acts in a way similar to her own kind, but the idea filled her with a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

Glancing around, Faythistle noticed the stares of the other men in the group, their expressions ranging from disdain to something darker and more unsettling. She felt a shiver of unease crawl down her spine as she recognized looks of lust and desire directed her way. The raw hunger in their eyes made her feel exposed, vulnerable, and tainted in a way she had never experienced before.

But amidst this turmoil, her thoughts kept returning to Drake. With him, it was different. Thoughts of him stirred something deep within her, awakening sensations she had never known. Her heart raced, and her body responded in ways that both thrilled and frightened her. The conflicting emotions left her reeling, torn between propriety and a yearning she couldn't quite understand.

Startled out of her reverie by Drake's commanding voice, Faythistle gripped the saddle as they veered onto a less-traveled path. The Commander's words carried a sense of urgency, a reminder of the dangers that lurked just beyond the horizon. The prospect of entering bandit territory sent a chill down her spine, but she steeled herself, determined to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

The soldiers around them acknowledged Drake's orders with a chorus of "Yes, Commander," their voices ringing out in unison. Fay glanced back, taking in the sight of the men under Drake's command—warriors, protectors, each with their own stories and fears. She marvelled at how effortlessly Drake led them, how he commanded respect and loyalty from those around him.