Beneath the Armour: An Elven Desire

Chapter 5

The next morning, as the sun graced the town of Woodpine, Fay woke to the sounds of rustling. She froze for a minute, confused as to where she was, not used to the soft bed she was currently laying in. She laid still, evening her breathing and slowly peeping through her lashes. She stifled a gasp as her eyes fell on Drake's undressed figure. His back was well-defined with muscles, a few scars randomly scattered. His bottom was well sculpted, lean and mouth-watering. She swallowed hard as she watched a few lone drops starting at his shoulder and slowly running along his back, over his bottom, down his thick muscular legs, and onto the ground.

Fay closed her eyes, willing the blush to not consume her. She was a prisoner, and she continued to chant in her head. It didn't matter what her captors looked like. But it didn't stop the heat that flushed her body or the stirring of what she could understand now was desire. Why would he not get dressed in the shower room? She had to announce her awakening. She let out a loud, fake yawn and began to stretch. She heard some more rustling and then a door close. When she peeked through her lashes again, Drake wasn't in the room.

"Good," she thought to herself, even though she knew she was lying. She slowly got up and made her way to the shower door, knocking. When no sound came, she entered and locked the door. She had a quick warm shower following Drake's comments from the night before. "Enjoy the warm water while it's here," he had said. So she did. She used the weird bottled stuff all over, loving the smell of the floral scent. Once she was done, she quickly dried and redressed in her undergarments, loose grey shirt, black slacks, and cloak. She quickly pulled her socks on and laced her shoes. She tied her hair into a messy bun atop her head and left the shower room to quickly check her belongings in her backpack.

"Ready to go, little Elf?" Drake called from outside the door, knocking his knuckles against the frame.

"Yes, Commander," Fay called as calmly as she could, quickly tying the material around her head to hide her ears. "Remember, you are a prisoner," she told herself. She gathered her backpack and passed by the Commander without meeting his eyes. She headed out of the inn, giving the lady a small smile. She quickly mounted her horse, not wanting the help from Drake. She struggled but made it work nonetheless. Once positioned, she sat there, head raised, eyes straight. She noticed most of the men seemed to be in good spirits, a few struggling from drinking too much as they staggered to the cart to crash into it for the next part of their journey.

"Men, are we accounted for?" called Drax. The men started their sound-off, calling out their names. Once all were present, Drax mounted up on his horse. They waited a few minutes for the Commander as he thanked the innkeeper and mounted his horse. Drake's gaze quickly scanned over Fay; she was distant this morning, something that didn't sit well with him.

"Move out!" he yelled.

As they started their journey, the sun climbed higher, casting long shadows over the path. Fay couldn't help but steal glances at Drake. He rode with a confidence that was hard to ignore, his posture straight, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a sharp intensity. She felt a mix of admiration and frustration. Why did she have to be attracted to him?

Fay refused to speak to Drake, turning away from him when she felt his eyes on her. It surprised her that it wasn't that hard to ignore him as she listened to the men boasting about their night in the brothel. Their voices were loud and lewd, filled with crude descriptions and vulgar jokes that made Fey's skin crawl.

One man, with a rough voice and a raucous laugh, bragged about a woman with "big t**s that could smother a man in pleasure." Another joined in, describing how she "knew how to use her mouth in ways that would drive a man wild." The rest of the men chuckled and hooted, egging each other on with their explicit tales.

A third man, with a swagger in his voice, shared details about how the woman "knew her way around a man's d**k, teasing and pleasing until I couldn't take it anymore." Fay clenched her jaw, feeling a mix of disgust and anger rise within her. She kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead, determined not to let their crude banter affect her.

Drake rode silently beside her, his expression unreadable. Fay could feel his gaze on her, but she refused to acknowledge it. As Fay's mind wandered, she couldn't help but wonder about Drake's experiences in the brothel. Did he partake in the pleasures the men were describing with such enthusiasm? The thought made her cheeks flush with a mix of curiosity and a tinge of jealousy.

Despite the crassness of the men's laughter and discussions, a small part of Fay's mind was drawn to the forbidden curiosity of what it might have been like for Drake. She found herself imagining him in the dimly lit rooms of the brothel, surrounded by willing women offering their services. Did he indulge in their seductive charms, their whispered promises of pleasure?

The image of Drake, usually so stoic and commanding, letting go of his inhibitions in the arms of a courtesan, sparked a strange sensation in Fay. She shook her head, trying to dispel the intrusive thoughts that threatened to unravel her composure.

Drake's enigmatic demeanour added to the mystery surrounding him, and Fay couldn't help but feel a pull towards him despite her best efforts to distance herself. The conflicting emotions swirling within her left her feeling unsettled and off-balance.

"Hey Elf, what are the male elves like?" One soldier jested. "Yeah, bet there not as big or thick as us," laughed another. As the soldiers' crude remarks and jests about male elves continued, Fay felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment and anger. The inappropriate comments made her feel exposed and vulnerable, a discomfort she tried to hide by ducking her head and avoiding eye contact with the men.

"Awww, come on, Elf, don't tell me you haven't engaged in a bit of fun," one of the soldiers called out, his tone mocking and taunting. Fay's discomfort grew as the men's laughter filled the air. She felt a rising sense of anxiety, worried about what the men might do or say, especially considering her status as an untouchable prisoner.

Sensing Fay's distress and the inappropriate direction the conversation was taking, Drake intervened firmly, his voice cutting through the lewd banter. "Enough. I'm sure most male elves are far larger and more enjoyable than you lot," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The soldiers' reactions were mixed; some scoffed in disbelief, while others let out hollow laughter, unsure of how to respond to their commander's unexpected defence of Fay. Drake's words brought a temporary lull to the inappropriate conversation, giving Fey a moment of respite from the uncomfortable spotlight.

"Fay, are you alright?" Drake whispered, his voice softer this time, laced with concern. But when he saw her angle her body away from him, a flicker of hurt flashed in his eyes, quickly replaced by a simmering anger.

"I asked you a question, Elf. Answer me," he growled, his patience wearing thin. Fay jumped at the sudden change in his tone, her hard eyes meeting his in a defiant stare.

"I'm fine," she bit back, her voice sharp with defiance and a hint of bitterness. Drake clenched the reins of his horse, struggling to contain the tumult of emotions churning within him. What had changed between them? Why was Fay so cold and distant now?

Choosing to ignore her for the moment, Drake turned his gaze back to the road ahead, his jaw clenched with frustration. He hated the way Fay's words and actions could affect him so deeply, stirring emotions he had long kept buried. The tension between them hung in the air, thick and palpable, as they continued their journey through the rugged terrain, each lost in their own thoughts and unspoken feelings.

As they travelled along the path at a quickened pace, Drake was determined to reach Weatherthorn before sundown. The soldiers jogged alongside, switching between the horses and carts, their movements swift and efficient. Fay observed the surroundings with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, unsure of what to expect as they approached the town.

As they emerged from a small cluster of trees, Fay's eyes widened in astonishment when they fell upon the massive wooden spiked fence that surrounded what must be Weatherthorn. Fields with various workers paused in their tasks, casting cautious glances towards the approaching group, uncertain whether to flee or stand their ground. A man positioned atop the gate, armed with a gleaming silver spear, bellowed, "Halt! Who goes there?"

Drake reined in his horse, his voice carrying authority as he responded, "Commander Lancaster of the Royal Army." The man above gave a brief bow before instructing them to come forward. Drake led the group towards the open gates, the field workers continuing to watch and whisper until the newcomers passed out of sight.

As they entered Weatherthorn, Fey could only marvel at the sight before her. The town was massive, bustling with activity and life. Drake guided the group through the main part of the grounds, the sound of the horses' hooves echoing against the cobblestone ground. Houses, shops, carts, and people filled the bustling streets, creating a vibrant tapestry of sights and sounds.

Many of the townspeople stopped to gaze at the approaching newcomers, some with expressions of curiosity and awe, while others eyed them warily. Fay noticed that some of the females gushed at the soldiers, admiring their strength and weapons, while others hurriedly gathered their children and retreated indoors, seeking safety in the midst of the unexpected arrival.

The atmosphere in Weatherthorn was electric with anticipation and curiosity, the presence of Commander Drake and his troops stirring a mix of reactions among the townspeople.

Drake led them to a looming manor, its shadow casting an ominous silhouette against the twilight sky. A few guards were stationed out front, their eyes vigilant. The manor's grandeur was undeniable, its stone walls covered in creeping ivy that added a touch of mystique. As they approached, a well-dressed man, followed by a lady in an elegant dress, emerged from the grand doors, their faces lighting up in a welcoming gesture.

"Commander Lancaster, an honour. We received word from King Riland of your arrival," greeted the well-dressed man, his voice carrying a tone of respect and familiarity.

"Lord York, it's nice to see you well and your wife," Drake replied, dismounting his horse with practised ease.

"Oh, Drake, you know you can always address us by our first names," giggled the lady, her laughter like the tinkling of delicate bells.

Drake smiled, a rare softness touching his eyes as he briefly kissed her outstretched hand. "My apologies, Katrina." He turned to the man, giving him a firm handshake. "Chester."

Chester's face broke into a wide grin. "Shall we get to it?" Drake indicated towards the house, his voice betraying a hint of urgency.

"Drake, slow down," Chester admonished warmly. "You've been on the road for weeks. Work can come tomorrow. For now, let's get you and your men settled in."

Chester clapped his hands, and three well-dressed, muscular elven men appeared from behind them, their heads bowed respectfully. "We have the Thorn Inn booked exclusively for you and your men," Chester continued. "Get the horses to the stables and their belongings to the inn," he ordered the elves.

The elves, well-trained and obedient, bowed simultaneously. "Yes, master," they replied in unison before setting to work.

Fay watched, wide-eyed, as one of the elves approached her horse. "Miss?" he offered a hand, helping her down with surprising gentleness before leading her horse away. Fay swallowed hard, her mouth opening to speak when Drax appeared beside her, his presence imposing.

"Keep your mouth shut if you know what's good for you," he whispered harshly, his eyes betraying concern and caution.

Fay gave a brief nod, her heart pounding. "Thank you," she murmured quietly as the elf led her horse away.

"Leaf," called Chester's wife, her voice commanding yet laced with a playful tone. Another male elf, slender but lean and graceful, stepped forward. He bowed deeply, his movements fluid and elegant, before kissing her hand with exaggerated tenderness.

"Yes, my goddess?" he murmured seductively, his voice a soft purr.

Katrina thrust her chest up, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Oh, be good, pet. Show the soldiers to the inn, please, and hurry. I need you soon," she purred, her eyes flashing with a mixture of amusement and desire.

Fay's stomach turned at the sight and behaviour of the elves, a sense of unease settling over her. She couldn't believe what she was witnessing, the casual degradation and subservience of the elves. Her gaze flicked to Drake, seeking reassurance, but he was deep in conversation with Chester, their voices low and serious.

As they made their way down the cobblestone path a few blocks from the manor, they approached the Thorn Inn. It was a sight to behold, its exterior a charming blend of rustic stonework and intricate wooden carvings. Flower boxes brimming with vibrant blooms adorned the windowsills, and lanterns hung from the eaves, casting a warm, inviting glow.

Inside, the inn was equally captivating. The walls were adorned with rich tapestries depicting scenes of fantastical landscapes and heroic deeds. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, mingling with the aroma of freshly baked bread and roasting meats. It felt like stepping into a haven of comfort and elegance.

"Drake," Fay whispered, falling into step beside him. "Is this... normal?"

Drake's expression hardened, his jaw tightening. "It's complicated," he replied quietly. "For now, keep your head down and follow their lead. We can't afford to make enemies here."

Fay nodded, though her heart ached with the weight of what she had seen. As they moved towards the desk, Leaf dinged a small brass bell, its clear tone echoing through the reception area. "Addison will see to you from here," Leaf sang, giving a deep bow before departing gracefully. Fay watched his retreat, her confusion growing. What was going on?

A high-pitched squeal broke her thoughts. "Oh my God, is that you, Drake?" A blur of colour rushed past Fay and crashed into Drake.

"Hello, Alison. It's good to see you," Drake responded warmly, wrapping his arms around the exuberant innkeeper.

Alison grinned up at him, her eyes sparkling with delight. "I'm glad to know it's you in town rather than some of the other commanders. Let me grab your keys and get you to your rooms." She quickly jumped behind the desk, handing out keys to the men, who, to Fay's surprise, responded with gentle smiles and acted like perfect gentlemen. It was a stark contrast to their usual hardened demeanour. Fay felt like her head was going to explode. What was happening? Had everyone gone insane?

Alison's eyes finally landed on Fay, widening in shock. "Sorry, miss, but the inn is booked for the soldiers for the next few days. There's another place down the road you could try," Alison encouraged warmly.

Fay's cheeks flushed as she struggled to find the right words. "No, Alison, she's with us," Drake stepped forward, blocking Alison's view of Fay.

"Really? Oh," Alison's voice shifted from surprise to something teasing. "It's not like that. We found her alone on our way here, and we're just keeping her safe until she remembers where she comes from," Drake lied smoothly.

"Oh, the poor dear. And you dressed her in rags? The nerve of you," Alison scolded as she pushed her way past Drake. "You have a room to yourself. Go get settled in, showered, and I'll give you something to wear. We'll get you more appropriate clothing," Alison smiled, her friendliness and forwardness leaving Fay stunned.

"Thank you," Fay replied, flushing with a mix of gratitude and embarrassment. She was careful to accept her key without revealing the cuffs on her wrists. Drake tensed, realizing the potential slip of not removing them sooner. He lightly pulled Alison into another hug, nodding his head towards the stairs for Fay to go. Fay followed orders and quickly ascended the stairs, falling in line with some of the soldiers.

She paused, looking at the symbol on her key and trying to match it to a door. When she found the matching door, she placed the key in the hole and turned it. Inside was a cozy room, a large bed draped in soft linens, another door leading to a shower room, a table and chairs, rugs, and photos that adorned the walls. It was beautiful, a sanctuary compared to the harshness of the road.

As she took in her surroundings, Fay felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. She had been through so much in such a short time, and the comfort of the room was a welcome respite. She moved to the shower room, the promise of hot water and cleanliness, a luxury she hadn't experienced in days.

As she stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over her, Fay allowed herself to momentarily forget the chaos and confusion that had marked her journey. But even as she washed away the grime, her mind remained a whirl of questions and uncertainties. What was really going on in this strange place? And what role would she play in the unfolding events?