So, everything I’ve written so far has been stories from my own life, and I wanted to challenge myself to see if I could make up a story too. I hope you guys like it! It’s long, but don’t worry, there’s some sexy-time as a reward at the end ;)
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“The king is dead!” I shout above the din. The walls shake with the continued barrage of the distant trebuchets. “Princess! Listen to me. We have to go. NOW.”
Princess Seraphina stares with vapid eyes at the chaos surrounding her. The dead men at her feet. Dead by my hand.
I had trained with these men, dined with them. Trusted them. And, at the end, when hope was lost, they turned their swords on the King they served, and would have done the same to the princess had I not intervened.
I shake the thought from my head. Now is not the time to grieve. Princess Seraphina is now the last of her line. Now is the time to run.
“Seraphina!” I shout, approaching her. Firmly, I take her in my arms, and roughly shake her. Frowning, her eyes raise to meet mine, as though I had rudely awakened her from a nap. Her mouth begins to take shape, most likely to say something like “How dare you touch me?” but she is cut off by a massive impact from the besieging trebuchets, shaking the ground beneath our feet. Seraphina loses her balance, but I catch her before she falls.
“Come on,” I say, taking her hand and pulling her towards the door leading to the hall. But as I reach for the latch, the door suddenly shakes on its hinges, and I can hear the muffled sound of soldiers on the other side, and the impact of steel on wood. They are hacking down the door.
“Is there another way out of the palace?” I ask, taking the Princess in my arms. “A secret passage? Servant’s entrance?”
Her jaw set. “Yes.” she said firmly. She threw off my arms and turned towards her chambers. Hand on my hilt, I follow at her heels, glancing over my shoulder at the quivering door. I stop in the entryway, prepared to defend against the attackers as the princess fumbles behind her bed.
“Whatever you’re doing, your grace,” I shout over my shoulder, “Do it fast.”
“I am moving as fast as I can.” Seraphina replies “You could help, you know.”
Reluctant to turn from the door, I sheath my blade and rush to her bedside, where she has stashed a wad of sheets.
“What’s this?” I ask, taking the fabric in my hand.
“Shut up and throw it out the window.”
I obey, discovering that the wad of blankets is in fact a dozen or so blankets tied together to form a makeshift rope, descending from the tower. If we weren’t in imminent danger of being hacked to pieces by marauding rebels, I would have laughed at the cliche image of the princess descending from her tower, stealing away to some moonlight tryst.
“You first, your grace,” I say, drawing my sword from its scabbard and turning toward the door.
“I don’t take orders from you!” She barked, as she promptly took my orders.
Sword in hand, I rush to the entry to her chamber to steal a glance at the door just as a hunk of wood breaks away and a foot of steel emerges from the ancient door. The sword is pulled back and an eye takes its place.
“There she is!” A rough voice shouts from beyond the door.
“GO!” I shout at the princess, whose head is still peaking above the window sill.
“You have to come too!” She shouts back, “I can’t make it alone.”
Biting my lip, I look back at the door, grasping the hilt in my hand. She’s right, who knows what she’ll encounter on the road ahead. She has no practical knowledge, she’ll be captured before the sun sets. Sheathing my sword, I run back towards the window. The princess hastily descends before me, and I straddle the window sill.
I have only just begun my descent when I hear the splintering crash of wood and the shouts of soldiers pouring into the chamber. I quicken my pace as much as I dare. I glance up just as two heads poke out of the window to glare down at us. One pulls a bow and arrow out of the window, and aims a shaft straight down at us, but he is punched by the other before he could loose the bolt.
“You idiot! You’ll kill the princess! Dedorick wants her alive.”
The two men take hold of the knotted sheets and begin to pull, and I struggle to maintain my hold on the shaking fabric. I look down at the ground. It’s too far away to safely jump, but what choice do we have? Gritting my teeth, I make my decision.
“Jump!” I shout, as I push off from the castle wall, and let go of the fabric. The wind stings my face as the ground rushes towards me, and I brace for impact.
I hit the ground hard and tumble forward, grunting from the impact. I end up on my back, seeing the men in the window high above me still holding the knotted sheets. I smile in pained victory, but its short lived as I notice the princess still clinging to the makeshift rope.
Grunting, I push myself off of the ground and run to the base of the castle beneath the dangling princess.
“Your grace!” I shout, “You have to jump!”
“I can’t!” She shouts back, clinging to the sheets with tears in her eyes.
“I’ll catch you. You have to trust me.”
Her eyes open to look at me beneath her. She’s still for a long moment, then, loosening her grip on the sheets, begins to fall from the rope. I position myself beneath her, and she tumbles into me, and we collapse in a heap on the ground.
Recovering, the princess lifts herself off of me. She smiles in relief, inches from my face. Even now, faced with death on all sides, I take a moment to marvel at how beautiful she is, even with her face covered in ash and dust and blood.
“Nice catch,” she mocked, lifting herself off of me. She steps over my sprawled body, leading the way down the brushy path. I grunt as I lift myself from the ground, bruised and battered but miraculously unharmed. I hasten to catch up with Seraphina.
The overgrown, narrow path seems to lead down to the edge of town, near the town wall. I turn a corner, preparing some quip about how heavy the princess is. I am startled to see her frozen in place, staring ahead. I follow her gaze and see three menacing armored soldiers making their way up the path.
“Your grace!” I shout, pushing towards her, “Behind me!”
Instantly, she obeys, retreating back as I pull my blade from its scabbard.
“Take the princess alive,” grunts the largest man, “kill the guard.”
My heart begins to thrum, and my grip tightens around the handle of my sword as the first soldier casually approaches. His stance is relaxed, and I prepare for his blow. He underestimates me, which is good. I can use that to my advantage. I portray nervousness on my expression, which admittedly isn’t difficult to do at this moment. He lifts up his blade for a simple overhand cut.
Instantly, I dodge left, whacking his blade in the downswing and bringing it up the soft of his flank, tearing into the flesh of his belly and ribs. Without missing a beat, I rush towards the second soldier, still stunned by the blow dealt to her comrade, and smashed her in the helmet with the hilt of my blade. She tumbles backwards, losing her balance and falling off the steep edge of the path.
The third soldier is not so easily stunned, and aims a blow with his heavy club at my head. I duck in the nick of time, though my helmet is dislodged from my head. He prepares an overhand backswing, and I dodge backwards, my feet dangerously close to the edge of the cliff.
Menacingly, the soldier approaches, seeking to take advantage of my precarious position. I plant my feet, attempting to read my opponent, preparing myself for whatever move he makes.
His shoulders shift to the right, indicating a swing from that side. I bring my blade to my left in preparation, but he feints left, and I barely have time to bring my sword back to deflect the blow. His heavy mace connects with my sword, and I feel the steel shatter in my hands. The impact knocks me to the ground, and I turn just in time to see the soldier preparing a finishing blow, raising both hands over his head, ready to bring the mace down to end my life.
I see the flash of shock in his eyes as he suddenly stumbles forward, and trips over my outstretched leg, tumbling head over heels off the path. He drops his mace and uselessly grasps at twigs and branches, but to no avail as he tumbles down the steep, rocky slope. I turn back to where the man stood to see Princess Seraphina, eyes wide with shock, arms still outstretched from having shoved the man to his death.
I rise to my feet. “You saved me,” I say to her, stunned that I am able to say anything at all.
Her eyes shift to lock on mine, and fill with tears. She lunges forward, embracing me, her body heaving with sobs. Slowly I raise my arms to return her embrace. I can feel the warmth of her body through my armor, and in spite of the ash and smoke, I can smell her rosy perfume. I close my eyes briefly, reveling in the warmth and comfort of her embrace.
After a moment, I open my eyes. Before me is the ruin of the city. Scattered fires burn, and huge swaths of the city are already reduced to ash. Thousands of soldiers continue to pour through the ruined gates. My Gods. We never stood a chance.
“We have to move,” I say, pulling away from her warm arms. “Those soldiers will not be the last.”
Seraphina sniffs and locks eyes with me, resolutely setting her jaw. She nods, and I take her hand to lead her down the path. It ends at the base of the city walls, and she shows me a culvert with a broken grate and we squeeze through.
We keep far from the roads, blazing a trail through the woods surrounding the city. At one point, we can see one of the roads leading to the city through the trees. An endless column of soldiers marches past, still flowing into the city. I pull the princess away, and we walk long after the sun sets until we feel we are far enough from the city to rest.
We find a secluded spot near a babbling brook, deep in the darkness of the forest.
“We’ll stop here,” I whisper to the princess, confident that there is no one around for miles, but still not daring to make a noise. In the dim light, I can see the outline of Seraphina nodding.
Silently, I begin unbuckling my armor, resting it against a nearby tree. I hear a light splash, and turn to see the princess stepping into the water of the brook.
“What are you doing?” I ask, approaching her.
“I’m… I have to wash, I…” She touches her skin, covered in ash and blood. I grimace. I know the blood is not hers. Suddenly, I fully realize the pity I feel for this poor girl. In one day, she lost her father, her brothers, her kingdom. Her happy life of comfort and the pageantry of court life has been stolen from her forever. Now she is a refugee, fleeing for her life surrounded by enemies with a guard who was a complete stranger to her two weeks ago.
“Of course, your grace,” I say softly. “But… it’s unwise to bath in your clothes. It’s not safe to start a fire, you’ll freeze to death in the night.” I pause. “The light is dim, I will give you privacy.”
She stands a moment, in silence, then I see her arm raise up to unbutton her torn and tattered dress. She struggles with the top buttons, and I realize that she normally has servants to help her.
“Allow me, your grace.” I say, approaching her. She allows me to unfasten the last few buttons on her dress, and clutches the limp fabric to her body. I turn away, busying myself with my armor.
I hear the splash of her entering the water, and the sharp intake of her breath as she reacts to the cold. I pull out my broken sword from its scabbard and examine the damage. The blade is mostly shattered, but the edge is still sharp, and it can function as a dagger, at least until I can find a new blade. I take out a damp cloth and wipe the worst of the dirt and blood from my hands and face, and from the blade until it shines in the pale moonlight, reflecting the scene around me.
I turn the blade in my hand, and catch a glimpse in the reflection of the princess bathing in the pool behind me. I instinctively put down the blade, but my curiosity gets the better of my honor, and I lift the blade again. In the reflection, I can see the princess bent over in the pool, the moonlight glittering off her damp body as she wipes the dust from her long legs. She rises, lifting her slender arms to adjust her flowing hair, and her breasts are clearly outlined in the dim light. The soft perky mounds shine with the cold water from the pool, her nipples stand erect in the cold night air. I marvel at her form, the gentle sloping curves of her tight body. This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed her stunning beauty. I feel a renewed pang of pity for the girl. She had just come of age hardly a moon’s turn ago. She would have had her pick of the eligible bachelors in the Kingdom of Adonia, hell, in all the kingdoms of Forallia.
My mind was lost in thought when suddenly I noticed that the princess was looking at me. Hastily I put down the sword shard, fumbling for the scabbard and slipping it back in. How long had she been looking at me? Did she notice her reflection in the blade? I can feel my face darkening, and am grateful for the dim light as I hear her feet pulling out of the pool and into the soft grass on the bank.
I rise, unfastening my royal guard cloak. Averting my eyes, I approach the princess and hold it out for her. She takes it, and I turn back towards my armor.
“It’s late,” I say to the trees. “We should try to get some sleep, we need to get more distance between us and Dedorick.” After a moment, I turn to the princess, who is now wrapped in my crimson cloak.
“I’m cold,” she replies simply.
I nod, “the night is chill, and it is bound to grow colder. We should huddle together for warmth tonight.”
I begin gathering leaves and brushing away sticks on the ground to create a makeshift bed and sit down. The princess slowly follows suit, resting her backside in the crook where my legs meet my hips. She lies down on the ground, and I lie down behind her, resting one arm under her head and the other over her arms, cradling her.
“Is this alright your Grace?” I ask, gently resting my arm over her body, awaiting permission before resting my full weight.
“Sera.” She replied.
“Your Grace?” I asked, lifting my head.
She shifted, turning around in my arms, until we were face to face. She looked deep into my eyes.
“Call me Sera.” she whispered, and brought her lips to mine.
I flinched, stiff against her lips. They were soft and supple, and I wanted nothing more than to wrap myself around her and drink her in, but instead I pulled away.
“No, your gr – Sera.” I say, inches from her face. I see the tears glistening in her eyes, and can feel her warm breath against my face.
“Please,” Sera whispered. “I want… I need…” she paused, her face twisted in sadness and thought. “There was so much… pain, so much hurt today… I just need something… someone… to give me hope. For tomorrow. For the future. That there’s something more.”
Gentle tears trailed from her eyes, and I was surprised to find my eyes blurring as well. She looked at me long and hard, her eyes pleading. I knew then, in my heart, that she was right. She needed to know that the world is more than darkness and death, and more than that… I wanted her. More than anything in my life.
I brought my hand to her cheek, and gently cradled her head, softly tracing the outline of her jaw with my thumb. My fingers coursed through her wet, cold hair and felt the warmth radiating from her head underneath. Her eyes were locked on mine, awaiting the answer to her question. Finally, I give her my answer. Passionately, I press my lips to hers, and feel her sharp intake of breath at her fulfilled desire. I breathe her in. She smells sweet among the aroma of dirt and leaves on the forest floor. My hand massages her head and neck as I press myself deeper into her mouth, allowing my tongue to explore her sweetness.
I roll on top of her, and she opens the robe to reveal her nakedness beneath, and wraps me in her arms, pulling me closer. I pull away briefly to admire the scene before me, her slender shoulders, her supple breasts lying flat against her heaving chest, her soft stomach and her curves leading down, down…
She pulls me back to her mouth, kissing me passionately as she fumbles with the strings of my rough tunic, pulling it over my head. Our chests touch, mine warm against her cold skin, I feel her erect nipples poking against mine. I take her chin in my hand and push her head to the side, sucking at her jaw and neck, down to the nape of her shoulder, planting warm kisses along her collarbone, working my way down to the softness of her breast. I kiss around her nipple, to the left, then underneath, then to the right, then directly above. Her chest heaves and she sharply inhales as I finally wrap my lips around her pert nipple, massaging it with my tongue and sucking gently as I massage her other breast in my free hand.
Her legs wrap around me, begging, pleading for more, and I continue my descent down her breast, kissing the underside, then planting my lips on her ribs, then down the flat plain of her pale stomach, pausing to kiss around her bellybutton, then down the valley of her legs. My lips brush past either side of her fuzzy mound, and I gently lick the crease where her legs meet her hips. She softly moans as I tease her. I reach up a hand past her breast to her mouth, and give her my thumb to suckle, silencing her.
I can feel the hotness of her vagina radiating against my face as I tease the outside of her lips, her wetness already glistening in the pale moonlight. Finally, I bring my tongue down the center of her delicate folds, enveloping them all with one swift moment. A long, low moan escapes her upper lips as I work the lower, massaging them with my tongue, swirling, moving from outside to inside, placing my whole mouth over her and sucking. Her legs writhe on either side of my head, pressing me closer, pushing my face into her warm center.
I bring my hand down from her mouth and, with two fingers, slowly push myself inside of her. She gasps in delight as I move deeper and deeper inside, pressing up against the roof of her opening, massaging the gentle ridges and folds with my fingers while I flit my tongue back and forth around her upper lips.
I hear her muffled cries, and glance up to see she has her hand in her mouth, stifling her moans of pleasure. I quicken my pace, moving in and out of her faster as I press my tongue harder against the top of her lips, swirling and swishing. She moans louder, and I can feel the pressure of her contractions against my fingers, her tight lips squeezing me in pulsating rhythm. Her back arches against my fingers, urging me deeper, and I can feel my hand and arm become warm with the full wetness of her pleasure. In one final, shuddering spasm, I know she has reached her climax, and she flops down, panting and shivering and sweating in the crimson fabric of my cloak.
Slowly, I withdraw from warm wetness between her legs, and secretly suck my fingers clean before moving back up her body to lay beside her. I move my arm beneath her head to serve as a pillow, and with my other arm wrap her in the cloak to protect her from the cold. I cradle her in my arms, squeezing her tight against my body. She turns her head, opening her wet eyes to regard mine, and softly, yet deeply, kisses me.
I watch her for a long while as her breathing steadies and she drifts into a restful sleep. My work is finished. The princess is safe and secure, and while I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, I know that I have done my duty. Resting my head in the leaves and dirt, I soon follow her in sleep.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/c0pvam/the_forallian_chronicles_the_fall_of_adonia
You are an excellent writer. I applaud you for the period correct mention of trebuchets. Most perhaps won’t know what they are. Keep up the good work !