Included within Julia’s thoughts, Blackmain shuddered. Her/their own body was betraying her/them, her/their mind was trapped. How could she/they be freed? He watched in horror as a dream version of Cimon stepped into the clearing and began to taunt her/them, even as Julia’s/their flesh caught on fire. The rape that followed was callous, but well-thought out. Blackmain almost cried out in horror, but as Julia wasn’t, he couldn’t either. The dream Julia lay still and Blackmain felt her/their heart stop for a moment. Then she/they began running again.

Blackmain tried to pull away, but found that he could only whimper within their shared mind.

~ Who is there? ~ The voice had a distinct Julia twinge to it, full of the pain they were trying to rescue her from.

~ It is us. ~

~ Go away. I like it here. I can control what happens. ~

~ You are trapped. You just don’t remember what has happened, that you are repeating yourself. You can’t control anything. ~

~ I can so. ~

Julia wrenched her mind away from theirs. How dare they invade? This was her private place. She would show them. She wasn’t giving up. The pain in the cuts reminded her finally of what it really felt like to be alive. They were right. No, they weren’t. If this was a dream, she wouldn’t have any control. Her mind was so occupied that it didn’t notice when Cimon began raping her again. She clung to her thoughts, not letting go, even as her heart stopped and her body stopped being responsive.

She tried desperately to hold the cuts closed with her hands, but more kept on coming as fast as she could tie them off. Ishton distanced himself from her mind and helped her. Now that she was trying for herself, he could help. She glared at him, but accepted the assistance. Her head bent down dealing with the ones on her legs, she didn’t notice Cimon approaching. When he grabbed her hair, Julia, already weakened by the blood loss collapsed. Cimon raped her again and again, this time she could feel it. She and Blackmain, who was still trapped with her mind, screamed.

Suddenly Blackmain was free. His spectral body formed, and he pulled Cimon away from her, just as he had done in real life. He knelt over Julia, helping Ishton to bind her wounds. The dream stopped. Everything stopped. Julia took a deep breath, and rolled away.

~ Leave me alone. I wanted to die here. It’s my choice. ~

~ You wouldn’t, couldn’t have died. We wouldn’t let you. We need you to be whole and healthy. Please don’t hide from us. We found you to save you. ~

~ I wanted to die. ~

Julia hid her face, and cried. The tears fell down, and sizzled as they hit her still burning flesh. It healed over, and it was as if a flood tide had been released. Cuts and bruises healed over, leaving her whole again.

~ Come with us, Julia. Be with us. We will not harm you. We have never wanted to harm you. ~

~ Tell me the truth. ~

~ We will. Just not here. ~

And indeed, the dream forest was fading away, leaving a clinging mist. Blackmain and Ishton hauled Julia to her feet, she was still weak and relatively helpless. They lifted her out, to return to the real world, where everyone was awaiting the results.

Cimon was standing at the head of the group, looking suitably dark and morose, even though his pale robes were reflecting the watery sunlight. The royal blood was diluted further by the last king’s death, so the royal blue was getting paler. Cimon began speaking.

“It is clear to me that no-one of us could have done this. The queen was well loved…”

Some of the courtiers sniggered at this; her maids alone would have hated her enough to poison her off, given enough incentive.

Cimon continued, staring down the others. His deep voice took on a more sonorous tone.

“It is clear to me that this must be revenged. My agent, my agents think that it was Wayland, in revenge for Julia’s betrayal and death. Others still think that it is the work of the elves again.”

Blackmain reeled back in shock. No-one he knew had been around to do it and in any case, as if any elves would associate with the Queen and her sort. Elves did not care to interfere too often. What they had seen before had confirmed that it was indeed Cimon who had killed her. He almost lost his grip on the vision as Cimon continued.

“We are going to war on all those that harmed us, have harmed our kingdom. No more will we put up with the inferior races. Our blood will once again be pure. When I am stated king, I will bring fortune and glory back to these people, make things better. Send out the heralds, proclaim the coming of a new age, under my rule. No more will we be sullied with elves, or strange neighbors. We shall crush all in our path to greatness. In my world, all humans will be free to walk without fear from the dreaded elves.”

The vision ended abruptly, as if the elven leader had decided that enough rubbish had been heard. Blackmain returned to his surroundings with a jolt. This couldn’t be right, no-one in their right mind would take on the elves. Sure, the elves were never seen, and this tended to breed the assumption that they were shy and weak apparently. Wayland wasn’t exactly an easy pushover either, however weak their current monarchy was. Their people were united, and there was less bickering in the streets to start off with.

He wondered how long Cimon had been planning this, it hadn’t been long yet since the Julia had been rescued. He hoped Julia was safe, the fact that all of the elves had come to the meeting meant that she was alone. Not to be worried about now though, murmuring was beginning to break out in his head as the others discussed what they had seen.
It was usual for them just to retreat further, but the patches of forest strong enough to change into the homes was growing smaller. This clan had not yet been affected, it was far enough into the forest that expansions didn’t matter.

With Julia on their side, perhaps it was time to make an offensive move. A meeting of the other clans would need to be called, because this would affect all of them. Cimon seemed determined to wipe their race out. Although the prophesy said that everything would be successful, the loss of too many elves would be disastrous, they had to maintain their place in society. Equality would be welcomed.

Even the elves’ tortures could be worked into society, there was always some humans, just like Blackmain who would be interested in fulfilling their masochistic desires. Others would just be curious. It wasn’t as if elves needed torture or anything like that, except as a past-time to make their long lives go faster. Things wouldn’t change so much. The humans would probably benefit more from the alliance, healing from the elves and eventual spell work, should they choose to offer it. Peace was best, always.

As predicted, Ishton was relaxing in the hottest pool, alone except for a couple of other Adepts. Blackmain wondered if Ishton’s main reason for choosing that particular heat had anything to do with the flocks of elves that seemed to want to surround him if he chose anywhere else. From the look on his face, he was deep in discussion with the other elves. Blackmain didn’t want to interfere, so he sat on the edge and gingerly trailed his toes into the water, enjoying the quiet. One of the advantages of mind speech was no voices to break the silence of the woods, only the sounds of the birds and the animals.

Blackmain was suddenly reminded of the little lizard that had given him away to Cimon when he was rescuing Julia. He regretted letting the man go now, it would have been far better to destroy him early. With the other Queen on the throne instead, and Julia with a male heir to the throne it would have been relatively simple to knock the Queen off and allow Julia to be acting regent. On second thoughts, Julia might not be content to just let her son to take the throne, she might want to have proper power for a time, to set things right. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, especially if she was Kolark’s daughter. Nevertheless, as the elves said, everything happened for a reason. Things would work out in the end, because it had been foretold that there would be an upheaval. One could never expect things to happen on their own though, some pushing forwards never caused any harm.

Ishton looked up at Blackmain, hopped out of the glorified bathtub and gestured with his hands. He was stark naked, his rippling muscles stretching out beneath his tanned skin as he stretched. Blackmain removed his own clothes, and laid them in Ishton’s lap, then put his own head down. The elves sent a shiver of laughter around, human’s modesty always amused them. Blackmain didn’t flinch, he wasn’t ruining his own values for them, it was more comfortable and less distracting this way anyway.

Massage came easily to Ishton, he gently tousled Blackmain’s hair and settled into an almost-rhythm. His fingers took away the ache in Blackmain’s head as time wore on and night settled in. The lack of lights lulled Blackmain back to sleep and his pleasant dreams returned, much to the further amusement of the elves. Ishton continued to massage his head and neck, gradually turning the entire situation into a performance.

When Blackmain woke a couple of hours later, it was to the sighs of disappointment from the other elves. He sat up quickly, glaring at Ishton, who only smiled and laughed with the rest of them.

~ Sorry old friend, they wanted something to amuse them. ~

~ You could have found something else. Other than me. ~

~ Why? When I know you will forgive me. ~

Blackmain growled inaudibly, Ishton was right as always. The massage had loosened all his limbs and he was feeling more relaxed than he had been in quite a while. Moving seemed like a bad option, lying here where he didn’t have to worry about anything else was so peaceful He should have known that it wouldn’t last however, as the silence was broken by the running of feet and a general mind-surge.

~ A meeting is called. All are expected to attend. ~

The message was filled with underlying images of what would be done to those who didn’t go to it. Blackmain wondered if that included him too. Most of those inventive tortures would have him dead in half the time it took the elves to set up the equipment.

Blackmain looked around for his practical clothes and was only slightly dismayed to see the predictable scanty elven robes laid out for him, hanging in mid air. He sighed at the waste of magic, but of course, he would be in a guest bedroom and the elves liked to display their power in order to dissuade any violence. Blackmain was used to this from his many prior visits, and was not in the least distressed. He climbed out of the hanging bed, attempting to gently disentangle his limbs from the clinging static blankets. That was one of the good elven pieces of invention, the blankets would never fall off in the night and leave you cold, even if they were less warm than regular ones.

Blackmain growled. The stupid things were still being attracted to him, and were holding tight. “Blasted, annoying, frustrating, wearisome…” he muttered angrily.

It was moments like this that one wondered what the elves had been thinking when they had designed their chambers. His monologue must have been louder than he had originally thought, as an androgynous figure appeared at the doorway. It wasn’t really a doorway, more like a slit in the cloths surrounding the bed.

~ How are you feeling? ~

The mind-voice was distinctly female, a sharp contrast with the solid body it was coming from. It was laced with desire and images of the owner’s sexual encounters. Blackmain’s head upped its throbbing as he attempted to send a firm warning to the figure in the same language. His voice still shaky, and not as controlled as he would like, Blackmain replied.

~ I am not better. No, I am not interested in you. I am here on business. Where are my Ishton and my Julia? ~

Blackmain accompanied the names with vivid images, colours and overtones of ownership. Some of the young elves never learnt he was taken. At least now Julia would provide them with a more acknowledged relationship, that of taking many partners and never being satisfied with less. Julia! Where was she? He tried again, obviously the elf wasn’t receptive to his first communication.

~ Where is Julia? Where is Ishton? I want my friends. ~

Blackmain endeavoured to attach sexual desire to the word/image “want” in order to convey urgency to the elf. It was the last thing he was feeling right now, desire for Ishton yes, but only to have his strong hands massaging his back and neck to make the headache go away. Desire for Julia was just wrong, and insensitive. She had been through so much, and she didn’t need to add incest to her list of problems, as tantalising as that might be to some of the more sadistic pleasure-loving elves.

~ She is safe with the healers. She has started her recovery. We are yet to know of the rest of her state. He is bathing, do you wish to join us? ~

~ I shall. Now shoo. ~

Blackmain had finally freed himself from the blankets and unselfconsciously walked over to the clothes. He sighed, wishing once again that his own clothes were evident. He didn’t feel up to arguing with the elf about the clothes, he had the feeling he was lucky to have gotten any at all. Now, if his memory served him correctly, the baths were very close nearby. Blackmain focussed in on the water sounds, and walked in that direction.

The tracking charm which had automatically activated when they arrived hovered over their heads, providing a point of reference for the other elves in the area. It was intended to ensure that visitors would not stray into the elven paths and could be gently shuttled away by the other protective charms. Ishton was a native, so instead it would alert them to the fact of his homecoming.

Slowly, even as the night drew even closer around them, other lights began to approach. The elves surrounded the three with sighs and murmurings, very little which would have been decodable by the average listener. The majority of their communications was in their heads, thinking was relatively safe this far into the woods. Most were able to hold very firmly onto their thoughts and project selectively, with minimum interference. Anyone who overhead would most likely think they were going mad anyway, as the thought-language elves used was very distinct and virtually impregnable. If a couple of elves could be found to cooperate with humans, directions to the generals and significant authoritarian figures as they staged their petty wars would be impossible to replicate. Fortunately, very few elves associated with humans, Ishton was an exception, especially within this much sectioned clan.

Ishton and his experiments in the lands of humans were frowned upon by his clan-mates. His new plan, and his involvement with Blackmain, had almost led to a rift forming between him and the elders. Luckily, the relatively younger elves could see the wisdom in his plan. To have a human ruler that was allied with the elves would help stop their steadily decreasing numbers from dwindling further, promoting dalliances and fewer deaths. The times were changing for the elves as the forests grew smaller, and humans became cockier about their invulnerability. Elves would not resort to becoming simple consorts, or second wives to gain a hold on the human lands – it would be an all or nothing.

Sad as Julia’s plight was, it was convenient for the other elves that lacked Ishton’s morals. She could be healed with difficulty, and it would take many more weeks of work. In the mean time, they could happily entertain Ishton, to persuade him to remain a longer time with them. Ishton was famous for his exploits, especially the tale that had cost him his beautiful visage. This made him a much wanted bed-partner, but he habitually turned down anyone’s advances as well as making his visits back to the clan infrequent because of his attachment to Blackmain.

Attachment to any human was dangerous to elves, because of humans’ short life-spans and correspondingly rapid changing nature. An ally one day could become your deadliest enemy the next week. Elves were no strangers to corruption and betrayal, but the form that humans’ practiced was ill-planned and rough in comparison. Mere death was little to an elf, their life-length often was more a curse than a boon, watching any human companions die and the world being destroyed around them as their own ageless beauty lasted. Elves perfected the art of torture to entertain themselves in their long lives, both on themselves and others. Eventually, some of them grew to love it so much that they combined it with their love-making, pleasure combined with exquisite pain. Some of the more private clans were said to take pleasure only in pain, raping their human servants, and taking amusement in their pathetic lives.

Luckily for Julia, Ishton’s clan was more involved in the healing of minds touched by rape. Her mind, trapped in the dream as it was, was not an uncommon sight to the mind-healers, who had helped those with worse traumas, such as incest. Julia was indeed more warped than those others, a combination of anxiety, depression and guilt that could hardly be replicated. If such a thing could be bottled, it would prove the elf’s successful mastery of magic, and attribute him to Adept status. Very few were able to do this successfully, without becoming trapped themselves, nor have access to such a wealth of pain. In the weeks to follow, Julia would become the subject of a very intense healing. Her healing was all the more prominent by her beautiful continence, and her need for mating as part of the healing process.

Julia wouldn’t be waking for a while still he thought. Time enough to fulfill his desires. He reached out towards Ishton’s slumbering mind, but discovered with dismay that he was still firmly entrenched in the dream-world. Blackmain sighed in frustration, it would have been a good release for them both, there was so much tension in the air. As tempting as it was to wake Ishton, it wouldn’t be right. Blackmain decided that he should go for a ride instead.

Blackmain followed the same path as Julia to the paddock. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the flattened grass from her passage. Blackmain did however notice Starless’ coat, far from its normal luster. It looked like someone had been riding him hard, and then had carelessly left the horse un-groomed. Blackmain growled under his breath, in both annoyance and anxiety. Starless never allowed anyone else to ride him. Blackmain touched the horse’s mind carefully, the sensitive horse often noticed him probing and objected venomously. He winced involuntarily; something Starless knew how to do was kick.

Starless’ memories were just beginning to form. A young woman had come out for a ride. She had left him like this because she didn’t know where the groom was. She had tried her best though, no need to be too angry. It must have been Julia! thought Blackmain to himself. She must have come out and ridden him while Blackmain was sleeping. But surely, Starless never let anyone else ride without Blackmain’s consent. Even Ishton, who was very good with horses, wasn’t allowed on Starless’ back. A nuisance sometimes, especially if something was to happen to Blackmain. It would be a shame to have to kill the horse because he had died too.

Blackmain probed deeper. But all he could get was a vague thought of “Blackmain-like”. Perhaps because he had rescued the girl? No, that wouldn’t account for it. It wasn’t possible that they were related. Blackmain still didn’t know who his mother was. Julia was from someplace else, a foreign princess. Her beauty did not fit in with the regular population. Her beauty, like Kolark’s. Starless could have sensed it in her. Kolark’s daughter? It couldn’t be. Kolark had always been able to ride Starless, but it was immediately obvious that Starless preferred Blackmain. Eventually, Starless had even completely rejected Kolark, especially after their relationship had started to disintegrate.

Julia, Blackmain mused, she was somehow related to him. A new thought: His daughter? Perhaps that was why he was having all these memories brought back. What could this new connection do to him though? This did not fit in well with their plan for her. How could she replace the old king if her father was a common man, like Blackmain? He wasn’t made to be a father. This wasn’t his role. Blackmain reassured himself, it wasn’t like she really needed one anyway, she was a full-grown woman now. If it was true, what then, what would they do? Ishton would have to be told of course.

Blackmain suddenly remembered that Julia was lying at home, still sleeping. Out cold on the floor in fact, because she had realized some of their plans. How would she react if they told her? Blackmain slowed his thoughts. It wouldn’t do any good. There was no proof that she was his daughter after all. Perhaps she would know more. That was it. But Kolark would not have told her the truth. It would have been too dangerous to admit it. It would have sparked off a war as the king of Naxos would have been insulted by receiving a bastard daughter in tribute if he had known.

Blackmain sighed. Why couldn’t life be simple? It was pretty absurd of him to expect a quiet life, he had chosen to be an assassin after all. He was getting old though, someone must be found to take his place. He would go looking for an apprentice tomorrow. It was rare for any practical trade to get new apprentices before winter, but there was a surprising amount of theory that needed to be covered before any fieldwork would be completed. He laughed at himself. The likelihood of finding anyone vaguely suitable was slim anyway. Not to mention a boy who would put up with a female and an elf being treated as equal in the house.

Assassins had to be choosy, one small slip would cost you your life. And it was a duty, which had to be served before everything else – including love. Being invisible, and upholding the proper values of the continent were the requirement. No chance of a normal life. Blackmain had his horses, but really, no-one knew who he was. That was a small price to pay for his freedom. Freedom? What was freedom? He was bound to protect the land and it’s people, the waiver he had signed when he was first apprenticed himself had squashed all ideas on normalcy. It wasn’t as if he could plan for his future. He was planning Julia’s future for her though, the next best thing. Was that right? What would she want? Ironically, Blackmain realized that he was indeed being her father by guiding her, living through her.

Blackmain looked up. It was getting late, and he had barely moved in the entire time with Starless. The horse stamped, aware that his master was paying attention to him again.

“Yes, let’s ride.”

Blackmain boosted himself on, and melded into the horse as they flew together down the path. The sun set as Blackmain and Starless rounded the crest for home. Ishton was standing in the doorway, observing them. Blackmain gave his friend a cheeky wave, maintaining his hold on Starless with his knees only. Ishton didn’t seem to notice, he returned inside the house.

The ride had cleared Blackmain’s head. He dismounted, and went to get the brushes from the rocky shelf hidden carefully nearby in the wall surrounding the property. He made up his mind to tell Julia where they were. If she liked horses, it was something else she could do when they were cooped up for the winter.

She saw movement, and she shrank back into the shadows. Cimon stepped out into the clearing. She screamed, and tried to keep moving but now her hands were tied, she couldn’t move. He came closer leering at her and feeding from her panic. She let the scream die to a whimper. She knew what would happen now, he would rape her, and torture her, he wouldn’t kill her. She smelt burning flesh, her chest was on fire. Cimon came closer to watch her combustion. He didn’t seem to feel the heat. Slut. Waste. Deserve to die. He drew back his cloak, it was the same color as the hidden one. He let it fall to the ground, his swollen member seeming to get bigger as he approached her. She was trapped. She prayed for anyone, anything to take her out of it. She gave herself to the pain, but she could still feel Cimon’s flesh pressed against her, rocking rhythmically as her body cried out in pain. It felt like an eternity, her nether parts crying out in greater pain even as she burned and blood fell from her wounds. Cimon withdrew, and Julia was still…

She ran, her legs barely carrying her into forest. She tripped and fell, breathing heavily… Julia was trapped in a prison of her own mind’s making.

Back in the real world, Blackmain and Ishton also slumbered. Their dreams were combined, sleep was for the body, but the mind could still communicate.

~ How long will she be out for? When will she wake? ~

There was no doubt as to who ‘she’ was.

~ It is hard to tell. I can not find her mind in this plane. She is not in ordinary slumber. Her mind was as tired as her body. I think I overreached. I will be slumbering. Will you watch for my body? ~

~ My friend, of course I will. It is not as if we are in the wars again, and there is no free minds to watch over you. What of the vision? ~

~ I will not speak of it here. The ban on the memory is great. It could be set off at any moment. Neither of us is strong enough to defend against it now. ~

Ishton’s mind-voice grew weaker.

~ I must rest now. You keep watch in the way I have taught you. ~

~ I will. ~

Blackmain felt Ishton’s presence waning from his mind. It gradually faded out until all that was left was a thin line of contact, even more tenuous than usual from the strain Ishton was under. Julia was merely a black spot in his vision. He wondered at that, normally other people, awake or asleep were bright balls, their color depending on the mood of the person. Never black however, that was unique to Julia. Whatever it meant, he didn’t think it could be good.

He settled comfortably into his mind-chair, and prepared himself to wait. The way things were looking, both Ishton and Julia would be out for a couple of hours. Blackmain allowed himself to relax, and let the memories flow.

Cimon rolled over, and spoke softly. “Wake up Ruiena, it is morning.”

The Queen grumbled sleepily and pulled the blankets up higher over her form. It was her bed, if he didn’t want to be found, he would have to leave.

“I’m going now.”

Good riddance thought Ruiena. Men rose much too early. She had a few more hours of beauty sleep to take, it wouldn’t do to lose her comely form, not now that she was single. She knew the ways of men, they would drop a maiden the moment she became old. He must marry her first, to cement her position, then she could do away with him. His usefulness was beginning to wane, soon he would be an intolerable nuisance. His bedtime playfulness was more violent than loving, and she wasn’t the kind of tavern wench who enjoyed such things. Too much more of this would ruin her. Better to finish it soon. When she got up, she would deal with the council.

She felt Cimon’s weight leave the bed, the mattress seeming to sigh with relief. Ruiena sighed herself, for the same reason, he often seemed to crush her with his overbearing presence. Now, back to sleep.

Cimon dressed quickly, the air was chilly now, and soon winter would set in around the palace, preventing any correspondence from taking place. He had not heard from the Wayland royals, and he had done his best to prevent the rumours surrounding Julia’s disappearance quiet in order to preven war from breaking out until he wanted it to. Curse that girl, even in her absence she was causing problems with the councilors. He would be best off marrying her, not the old Queen. Raping her was fun, although that man who had saved her had spoilt it, not to mention killing his best men. It had been convenient once he had thought about it, an easy explanation was that Julia had escaped him, and killed the men, trying her best to grasp the ruling of Naxos in her hands.

As if that tiny wench could have done any such thing. He licked his lips. Ruiena had to be beaten into submission; it wasn’t quite the same as having a helpless woman in his grasp. Like having a deer spellbound, or an elf trapped away in a shielded room, the thought was delicious. He let himself fantasize a little. Julia, splayed out on the bed, her hands tied in rope to the headboard and feet to each bedpost, covered in a see-through gown of soft silk. No, he corrected himself. She should be naked, and blindfolded, they always feared that which they couldn’t see. His weight pinning her down to the bed, forcing himself upon her. The tightness of her arousing him and bringing him to a head. Cimon looked down in dismay, the heady thoughts had brought his desire once again to the fore. There was no time for him to satisfy himself before the meeting, he would have to slip away sometime later, the was an inn he hadn’t visited for a while, there would be some new sluts for him to abuse.

+++++

Several hours later Ruiena woke to the light curling around the shades. She screeched for her maids, who came tumbling in the door in their haste to reach her.

“Get me dressed. NOW!”

The maids bustled around her, pinning up her hair into a simple plait and painting her face with makeup. Ruiena studied her face in the refection, there were more lines than yesterday. She would have to make a visit to the apothecary again. Another maid caught her eye, her visage was tearstained and her clothes rumpled. It was probably just another one of Cimon’s conquests. The maid, it came to her now, her name was Senoia, noticed the Queen looked and tried to hide her face. Ruiena demanded only the most lovely of women to serve her. Beauty was catching. She took care to ensure that they were never as beautiful as she though, it wouldn’t do for her to be outshone.

“Come. Here. Now.” Ruiena demanded. Senoia crept closer, afraid of being rebuked. Ruiena was feeling generous, instead she indicated that Senoia be seated next to her, and her face made up to match. The maid squirmed uncomfortably, being elevated would do nothing for her relations with the others. Ruiena smiled, Senoia’s discomfort was delectable, she could almost taste it in the air. This way, they wouldn’t conspire against her, they would be too busy squabbling for her good-will. The trick was to be unpredictable.

As soon as she was dressed, Ruiena swept her rich, blue cloak around her and headed for the antechamber. Time to put her plans in action, the councilors wouldn’t know what hit them.

It was typical of elves to take many lovers. Ishton was an exception, he preferred to have only one person. This taste didn’t run to other elves, they bored him with their pretty speeches about sharing the birth of the children. He could understand that children were important, but he wasn’t willing to settle down yet. His pretty cousins could re-populate the Earth, they spent enough time with the humans to conceive.

Ishton was a typical elf, mainly appearing in his male form but preferring to take a female shape during intercourse. Humans had the silly idea that male partnerships were wrong as well, against the natural law. They hadn’t had the time to observe the animals in nature, it happened there. It wasn’t as if procreation wasn’t occurring when he was bonded as a male, he would be able to birth children in his female form. It was the joining with another soul that counted. Ishton didn’t see himself being that different from humans, except his long life and changeable nature. Both had evolved from the same creature, elves had just gotten the better of two bargains, able to give and receive.

It was an advantage to have both aspects available. Sexual pleasure could be taken in being female, although human lovers tended to be rough and abrasive. Being a male was more protective, stronger, faster, able to take pleasure in any kind of penetration.

The tales about the elves were mainly the product of overactive imaginations belonging to the human lovers. Having spent a wonderful night enjoying the elf’s female aspect, it was often a nasty shock to wake up next to an elven male. It was easier to explain away their horrified discomfort and shame by calling the elves ‘monsters’. Blackmain wasn’t ever like that. As a young boy, Blackmain had been confused because he felt equally attracted to both sexes. Ishton’s company had allowed him to explore, without generating rumours or having Blackmain get into more fights to preserve his manliness. Blackmain’s childhood hadn’t been conducive to priming him as a gentle lover. His internal anguish often overtook him in those early days, no ordinary female would have been able to withstand his violent wrath. Ishton was so much more hardy, another advantage. Even though he may have been in his female aspect, the strength carried over successfully from each change in shape. Pleasure and pain intertwined, inseparable just like Ishton and Blackmain were until Kolark.

Kolark had created a brief rift between the men, her heritage was unsuitable for Blackmain, and Ishton could tell that nothing good would come of the union. Blackmain insisted on pursuing her, his love for her growing stronger every day that passed without communion. Their one night of passion had resulted in Blackmain being exiled, and Kolark resigned to a backwater marriage. Blackmain’s brief happiness had granted him an unforgiving hatred of the royals in general when it was taken from him.

Blackmain had not thought of her until Julia had come, but now all the painful thoughts and memories seemed to be rushing back, as well as his desire for Ishton. Julia could be a problem, if she had any of those deep-seated human misperceptions. He would have to find some way of keeping her out of the house. Blackmain realized that he didn’t even know what she enjoyed. Something more to think about when he was awake. Blackmain drifted off to sleep, his thoughts carrying into his dreams.

“Hi,” said Blackmain softly, ‘You have been asleep of two days now, how are you feeling?”

His voice was raspy, rather like Cimon’s. Julia was going to get up and run past the man but found that she could not feel her legs. She fell back onto the bed and the man called to his friend. As the owner of the lyrical voice came in Julia realized that he was an elf. She felt frightened from all her childhood tales of elves killing the people they found in their woods. Blackmain came closer and Julia settled down – he was not Cimon and neither was he an elf.

“You are not captive, you are severely injured. The men you were with burnt you and you nearly died from exposure. We’re here to help you, not finish the job.”

Julia looked around. It was a wooden cabin, simple, similar to the one in which she had grown up in while her mother was exiled. The shelves on the wall contained herbs and yet more hung from the rafters above her. She was obviously in the home of a healer then. They were known for their immunity to the King’s wishes, she would be safe here. Suddenly she realized that the King was dead. And Cimon, what had happened to the general?

Julia’s voice was husky and she had to clear her throat before she could continue. “What happened to the men who had taken me? Are they dead?”

Blackmain responded, “All but one. The leader I left.”

Julia knew Cimon would be looking for her. This man obviously didn’t know who she was, or who the General was. She was safe as long as she was anonymous. There had been no clothing to identify her as noble, she could be whoever she wanted. Her childhood name and life would do. “I’m June.”

“And I am Blackmain. You are in my house. You are safe here, no-one else comes this way.”

The elf stepped into the light and Julia cowered back. His face was disfigured by a scar down the side of his head. He was just like in the tales, more perfect than anything carved by a sculpter except for the scar. As he reached towards her she saw the scars running up his forearms, matching those of Blackmain. He lifted up the covers and Julia feebly tried to hold them down.

The elf spoke to Blackmain in a different language.

“It’s ok June, he just wants to check your wounds. He won’t harm you.”

Julia felt uncomfortable, but it was said that elves were never interested in other races. Blackmain noticed her watching him, and he turned away, feeling her discomfort.

As the elf lifted off her bandages Blackmain spoke, obviously trying to distract her from the pain.

“Tell me about yourself. My history is inconsequential, I have no life. I do not exist. This house does not exist. Iston does not exist.”

Julia realized that the elf’s name was Iston. “I grew up in a place similar to this.” She winced, the padding was stuck to her chest.

“My mother was poor, my father left her to travel. She was exiled by her own family when it was found that she was pregnant with me. I am nothing. I have no other past.”

Blackmain looked quizzically at her, surely there was more to this beautiful female. Her face, drawn with pain and swollen, still reflected her nature. No woman of common background could look like this: slender, with pale blonde hair and piercing green eyes. Yet behind that façade, Blackmain could sense her unhappiness.

“There is nothing to fear here. We will be safe from prying eyes and ears. The King himself wouldn’t have the power to intrude.”

At the sound of the King, Julia shuddered, and Iston shook his head at her.”

“Do not move. The pain will get worse if you do.”

Julia visibly restrained herself, trying to avoid looking at herself. She could tell from the large patches of numbness on her torso that large areas must have been burnt. Or perhaps the elf had some kind of power.

“What have you done to me?” Julia asked. “Why can’t I feel anything?”

The elf spoke to Blackmain, and Blackmain translated.

“You have extensive burns to your breasts and thighs, internal damage and you almost lost your toes. Your mental state is worried, and you are keeping something back from us that might assist your healing.”

Blackmain trailed off. Julia looked away. How could they tell what she was thinking? What else did she not know? She tried to clear her mind, but the thoughts kept on bombarding her. She wondered if they could tell she belonged to the King. Whether she was noble-born or not. The elf cringed back, her thoughts tumbled far too quickly for him to process them.

“Rest. Heal. We will talk then.”

Blackmain and Iston left Julia alone.