Teller of Fate
First Movement: The Birth of a Teller of Fate
Chapter Six
Dævara’s earliest memories were being read to and then reading with her mother. Recalling those times would always be a comfort.
Since the vision in her bath, one of the earliest was haunting her. When she was four, she had asked her mother who her father was.
She could still see her smile. Not a word would she say concerning his identity, but she did say that from him young Davida had inherited something that would make her a better Teller than her mother had ever been.
Davida had asked what that was. Her mother’s smile had been her only answer.
Now that Dævara knew she was a Seanduine, she was quite curious about what her mother had known. Though she herself was born on Scorn, her mother had been from an Oerth analogue and had been part of a diaspora to many other worlds. While still a child, her mother was part of the large community that had come to Scorn. When young Davida had asked why, she would only say that war had come to Oerth, and it was no longer safe. Dævara wondered if her mother had known her daughter would be a Leannán as well as a Seanduine.
The reason she dwelt on these memories was a growing and insistent craving for sexual release.
Five days ago, unable to think clearly for this desire, she had masturbated for the first time in months. The resulting orgasm had been the strongest she’d ever had, stronger even than that first one after coming here. Nothing in her life had prepared her for that feeling. The residual shame at the beginning of the effort was erased entirely by its success. She spent the next two hours pleasuring herself many times and had finally fallen asleep, hand still caressing her vulva.
The hunger had truly awoken then. She had planned to spend the next day at the library, but the drive again overtook her while she was bathing.
She never made it out of her rooms.
Slightly worried that this would take over her whole life, she had asked Tathar about it the next morning. He had comforted her with the knowledge that familiarity would temper her lust. She was on her way back to her bedroom when a realization struck her.
Masturbation wasn’t enough. She remembered her mother’s secret smile when talking about how special her daughter would one day be and finally let her self-imposed oath go. Dævara would honour her mother’s memory by becoming that which she was meant to be.
She had rather fancied one of Tathar’s friends, an elf named Golradir. His skin was an iridescent red and the golden eyes in his long face ones to hold great secrets. Decision made; she hastened to his dwelling.
He lived with a mate, Siofra, a striking elf with silver skin and pale blue eyes.
The latter was not at home when Dæv knocked on their door some distance higher in the same tree she shared with the Raven’s son and his mate Ansrith.
⁂
Golradir knew who it was at his door before he opened it, for he could feel Dævara. The lust she inspired as a Leannán got stronger, it seemed, every day. Gol was one of the few who knew her true nature.
He had never been less than proper with her, though it was a struggle. Siofra felt it too. Over the last week, their sex life had reflected that. Neither had been this randy since their honeymoon.
And now here she was, in a sparkling green corseted dress. It was cut square and low enough to provide a good view of her modest bosom. She looked up at him with an expression of worry, something that sat poorly on her.
“Dævara,” his joy was unseemly, but unavoidable. “It’s good to see you.”
“Greetin’s, Gol. Could I trouble you for a moment?”
“I’m sure whatever you need will be no trouble. Please come in.”
That smile which never really went away widened as she lowered her eyes and entered the dwelling.
“So, what can I help you with this day?”
Instead of answering, Dæv stepped forward until she was close enough to touch him, which she did. Looking up with eyes that suddenly seemed very large, Gol felt her hand caress the front of his trousers, more particularly his sudden erection. “I need this, Golradir, I do.” she whispered. “Please.” The look of hesitation and the tone of pleading were not feigned. The mental linkage she was rapidly developing with her new people confirmed that. She thought her forwardness might offend, might even result in a precipitate refusal.
Dævara needn’t have worried. Her carnal influence overwhelmed him. He shut the front door hastily and beckoned her. “The bed chamber is the best place to continue this conversation.”
⁂
Taking her hand, her host led her deeper into the apartments. Golradir shared a room with his primary mate that was elegantly simple. Plain white were the walls, ceiling, and floor. Likewise, the rug and the sheer curtains of its sole window. The bed was long and broad, the bedding white as well.
Once past the threshold, Dævara led Gol to the bed. She sat at its end, noting how soft and cool it was, and pulled the elf close until his knees were between hers just touching the duvet.
Without giving him a chance to speak, she quickly undid the laces fronting his pants, pulling his cock free. Though her knowledge of the arts of love was extensive for more reasons than the obvious, but it was only after holding it that she remembered she had never touched a penis before.
It was hard, but silky soft as well with ridges down its length that made her pulse race. And the smell…
She leaned closely in and inhaled deeply. So animal, so primal. Looking up at Gol, she saw an expression she had never seen before. It was wonder. Wonder and something else. Was it reverence?
The thought made her smile.
Without breaking eye-contact, Dæv tenderly kissed the head of Golradir’s prick.
Here came the tricky part. She knew anatomy well enough and how male arousal worked. She even knew what sex sounded like, but some things just had to be learned through experience. Dævara looked up at Gol as she kissed and licked his erection, making smacking sounds as she did so. His frenulum got most of her attention. Golradir’s breathing became unsteady as his eyes remained locked on her.
Then a couple of things happened very quickly. First, Gol cried out and threw his head back. Semen began, with some vigour, to flow from his meatus, splattering her cheek and nose.
Dæv hesitated for a second, surprised. Then she took the head of Gol’s cock into her mouth and massaged its underside with her tongue until it stopped spasming and Gol’s cries died down.
⁂
Gol’s mind returned from that ecstatic place it had been, and he looked back down at his lover. Cum glistened in the light from the window on the side of her face as, with a popping sound she pulled his dick from her mouth. She smiled sheepishly up at him and said, “Oops. That was quicker than I thought it would be, it was. Sorry.”
“No need for an apology, Dævara. It felt wonderful. I should be the one apologizing. I usually have more control than that. It’s just…”
“Me. I understand, I think. I’m new to this being a Leannán myself, I am. It’s really that strong?”
“Indeed.”
“Well—” she wiped at her face and licked the result off her fingers—“I think it’s my turn, it is.” She slowly lay back on the bed and parted her legs.
With a feeling resembling reverence, Golradir knelt between Dævara’s knees. He grabbed the hem of her dress and raised it. Dæv lifted her hips from the bed, took the skirts of her dress from him, and sat up. With a deftness that she could see surprised him, she reached behind her an unlaced her corset, pulling the halves apart and removing it. She tossed it to one side. Her dress followed and she lay back down, now—apart from slippers—gloriously nude.
The soft daylight through the window cast glittery silver highlights all down the side of her white skin. Golradir’s eyes were drawn to the flesh of her crotch which darkened to a very deep blue. Her inner lips just visible between chubby outer ones, glistened with her arousal.
At this distance, the effect of her was transmitted via scent. It affected him like a powerful drug. He gave her a long look as he caressed her thighs, before lowering his mouth to her sex.
A shuddering moan greeted the first touch of his lips to hers. He set to work, hands along her thighs, then up to her hips, and finally gently squeezing her breasts.
⁂
Something remarkable had happened when Gol had cum. A surge of energy had tingled along her nerves, and for a moment she had felt the Syrat, still in that shack on Scorn.
As her lover began his work—he was very skilled, at least she thought so—both the energy influx and the feeling of connection returned. In her mind’s eye, Dæv could see them. She could also feel the influence of the Dark Man.
Several times since her arrival, that feeling of his grim touch had overcome her. Now, the weakness she had always experienced was absent. Only the connection remained.
As orgasm quickly approached, she pushed the influx of power out to the cards. It wasn’t a conscious decision. She just knew she had to. The scattered cards began to vibrate, eventually dancing, as they absorbed her power.
Dævara came hard; harder than she ever had. The cards began to glitter and glow. The spell of the Dark Man was washed away from them.
Her cries were of triumph and ecstasy both.
⁂
Dævara’s cries during her orgasm changed to laughter, something that puzzled Gol.
He raised his head to meet her gaze, smiling quizzically.
Her mirth receded, but her smile remained. “I’ve managed to free my Syrat from the influence of the Dark Man, I have. But no matter. We’re not done yet, I hope.”
Golradir was erect again. He knew what she wanted. Without speaking, he rose to his knees and pulled his lover’s hips gently to the edge of the bed.
“Slowly now. It’s my first time.” She appeared only a little nervous.
“Of course.” Lining up his cock with her cunt, Gol leaned forward on the bed. Eyes locked with his lover, he slowly pushed into her.
⁂
Dæv expected pain when her gentle lover began his amorous assault on her vagina and was surprised at feeling only pleasure. “Oh!”
Gol stopped. “Does it hurt?” He had the same worry, it seemed.
“No. Don’t stop.”
“Good. You’re an elf now, my lover. Our women do not have hymens.” He drove his penis to the hilt.
She began to flex muscles she didn’t know she had.
“Stop, please. I don’t want to embarrass myself twice.”
“What?” Her confusion must have been plain on her face.
Gol told her briefly about the hydrostatic muscle the vaginas of all elf women were lined with.
“Oh. So, when I do this—” Gol’s face once again expressed his pleasure. She couldn’t stifle a laugh. “Alright, I’ll be good, I will.”
Golradir leaned over her and began long, slow strokes.
Dæv sighed and continued making the Syrat dance in its wooden shack so far away.
It was then that Siofra came home.
⁂
She knew the young elf was there before she opened the door. Also, that her mate was making love to her. Hers was a mature species where matters carnal were concerned, so her only feeling had been regret that they’d started without her.
She crept along the hall and peered around the partly opened bedroom door.
Gol, the randy bastard, hadn’t even taken his clothes off first. He was over her, his hips thrusting and thrusting into his lover. Dævara’s face had an angelic expression as she whispered encouragement into his ear.
She knew they both were aware of her, as she was of them. Not standing on ceremony, she came into the room and doffed her dress.
It was only then that Dæv acknowledged her. Fixing her with large, gold speckled scarlet eyes, she left off grabbing her lover’s arse (she had been pulling his member into her harder and faster), and pushed on his shoulders to lift him up off her slightly. “Come here, lover. I want to taste you.” Dæv’s voice was lower, husky with her arousal, her half-closed eyes shining.
It was only a request, but a nature she knew the Dævara did not yet fully appreciate turned it into a command. Without hesitation, she climbed onto the bed and straddled the younger elf’s head, facing her mate. Gol’s golden eyes smiled at her. Their lips met just as Siofra’s other lips met Dæv’s.
⁂
Yet another ‘learn by doing’ moment had arrived for Dævara. She began by licking the older woman’s labia, which seemed to satisfy, so she continued it for a while. Gol’s attentions were quite distracting, however.
Siofra lent some guidance then. “Just my clitoris, lover,” she said between kisses with her mate.
Dæv began to lick and then to suck.
“Just lick with the tip.”
She complied.
“Softer. Just barely touching. Ah! Yes. Faster now.” Her voice was also hoarse and lower than normal.
So it went for the few minutes it took for the older woman to orgasm, gentle instruction and eager compliance.
At one point, Gol’s mate said. “Oh, I forgot to mention…oh!…Durothil and Wyrran…read your paper on flight in Nonspace. They said…ah!…they’d be over soon with some questions.”
Her mate replied only, “Good.” He had no intention of talking shop with them. Dæv’s heart sang as orgasm overcame her again.
⁂
Golradir’s students arrived and joined in.
Bathing and naps followed. Then more love and food and more sleep. Days went by.
Eventually, the subject of Gol’s scholarly thoughts did come up. Dævara of course wanted to know all about flight. After a little sexual bribery, he satisfied Dæv’s curiosity about the mechanics of elven flying.
— Gideon Jagged
Innsmouth, July 2026
© Gideon Jagged
All Rights Reserved