sageoftruth
TMF Novice
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- Jul 7, 2005
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The Taming of the Blade
“More footprints,” Elanda said in a low grunt, bending down to study the leaves and twigs on the ground. Clearing away all the debris, she squinted at the prints in the soil beneath her. “Hey, take a look at that, Gra’Huk,” she said, angling her head towards the orcish skull that hung from the right side of her belt, “Five toe marks. Our allies may be close.”
A more skeptical part of her knew this did not narrow things down much. Footwear was not common among the many wild denizens of the Arben forest, and these tracks could easily belong to a small lizard kin, a wandering ninja, a druid, or one of the wilder of the forest elves. Still finding fresh tracks at all in this vast expanse was a rare enough thing indeed. She smiled and hung onto hope, rubbing Gra’Huk for good luck as she continued her study of the tracks.
“These prints run deep. That rules out the little brat Janet, eh?” Even if the young kunoichi for hire had been heavier, her agile, young feet were too small to have left tracks like these. “No signs of claw marks.” That ruled out the demoness, Dera, with her red clawed toes. “No surprises there, eh, Gra’Huk? She never goes anywhere without her summoner.” Elanda smirked. “No winding, snakelike walking pattern either. So, these don’t belong to some spoiled desert princess who thinks she’s a trained monk.” She turned and spat, as she mentally crossed Rosa off her list. “And thank goodness for that. Imagine being stuck in the woods with her.”
Gra’Huk said nothing as usual, but he was a great listener, which was valuable, since Elanda tended to spend lots of time alone in the wilderness. In life, as an orcish chieftain, Gra’Huk probably understood her better than anyone else she knew, at least before she’d taken his head and claimed her freedom.
She stared closer at the ground, her sky blue eyes narrowing further. “Still, I know I’ve seen these before. Judging by the wide arch width, long arch length, toe size.” Elanda paused, then shook her head. “Wait a minute!” Getting up off the ground, she placed her foot over one of the tracks. A perfect match. She stared down at her sun-reddened bare foot in silence, her hand clenching around the bone hilt of her sword. A gentle breeze blew through the area, a leaf touched her shoulder, and Elanda’s teeth clenched. “Rrrrrrraaah!” Spinning, she swung her sharp, uneven blade and hacked off a nearby tree branch, sending it flying off into the bushes with a heavy THUD.
Grumbling, she fell back against the tree branch’s owner and slid to the ground, letting her toned, bare legs sprawl out in front of her. Her tight stomach began to rumble, but hunger wasn’t at the forefront of her woes. “Me of all people, lost in the woods.” She shook her head. This was absurd, like getting lost in her own bedroom, which often tended to be in the woods, since it beat having to worry about living expenses.
If she couldn’t find her own way through this place, then those missing woodsmen she and her party had been tracking were as good as lost. Something wasn’t right. Pathways no longer led where they used to, markers weren’t where she’d last seen them, and even when the positioning of the sun assured her she was walking in a straight line, she ended up going in circles.
Just then, her pointy half-elf ears picked up a rustle behind her. Gripping her blade, she planted her stout bare feet on the ground and rose to a standing position. Peeking around the tree behind her, she spotted a swish of hair, followed by the rapid crunching of leaves.
Keeping low, Elanda followed behind, running on her toes to lighten her footfalls, while steadying Gra’Huk with her right hand. Unburdened by anything but her sword, Gra’Huk, and a sparse fur and leather two-piece, she moved light and fast, ducking tree branches, hopping over bushes and leaping over the small brook up ahead of her in a single bound, her movements creating about as much sound as a gentle breeze. However, the pattering sound of her mark remained in the distance.
Following her ears, she saw a bright glow up ahead. Shielding her eyes, she leapt over the last bush in her path. As she landed, sunlight spilled over her face. She looked around and found herself in a large clearing. The breathtaking sight stopped her in her tracks making her shoulder-length blonde hair spill over her face. Brushing it aside, she rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times to make sure she was not dreaming. Up ahead lay a humble cottage, surrounded by perfectly symmetrical lines of flowers and a small rock formation with a miniature waterfall tumbling down it. Elanda could not figure out where the water was coming from. The small hairs on the back of her neck began to rise. There was something magical about this place, and nothing made her warier.
Up ahead, a woman in a straw gardening hat knelt on the ground, arms buried deep in a gathering of ferns and bushes as she hummed to herself and stuffed her basket with various plants. Elanda stared at her, scratching her head. There was something off about this woman, but what? After all, what was so unusual about finding an herbalist out in the middle of the woods?
“We’ll, talk later, Gra’Huk,” she whispered. After giving the skeletal head of the orc chieftain a final pat, she approached the woman, towering over her with her broad six-foot frame.
The herbalist looked up with a gasp and her eyes widened as her gaze fell upon the savage longsword in the imposing elf woman’s hand.
Elanda followed the woman’s gaze to her own sword. “Oh, uh!” She jerked her muscled arm up, feeling with the tip of her sword for the sheath behind her. Once it was back where it belonged, she focused on the woman, fumbling for the right words to say. “Ah, oops!” She grinned, shrugging.
The sheepish smile and the blush in her cheeks seemed to be enough to set the startled woman at ease. With a shaky smile, she stood and nodded her head. “G-greetings, traveler. What brings you to my cottage?”
“Oh, uh,” Elanda paused, wishing she had one of her more eloquent friends around to do the talking. “I’m The Blade of the Wilds. I’m on the hunt for some lost woodsmen. Do you, uh, know where they might be?” She shook her head. What a stupid question. “Or maybe a way out of these woods?”
The woman shrugged. “Can’t say that I’ve seen any woodsmen, and there’s no easy explanation for how to escape these woods, I’m afraid.”
Elanda sighed. She knew it was too much to hope for. “I’ve also been separated from my friends. Did you see a young ninja, a red-skinned demoness, a dark elf, or a human woman with skin the color of sand?”
The woman shook her head. “You’re the first person I’ve seen in days. Still, if you’re tired and need a moment to rest your mind, I picked berries earlier today. You’re welcome to some of them.”
Elanda took a deep breath and exhaled through her nose at the mention of berries. They weren’t her top choice for food. The same could be said for any other foods that didn’t either make her drunk or come from killing something in the wilderness. However, her legs ached and the thought of taking a short break more than made up for eating weakling food. “That’d be good.”
The woman smiled. “Then make yourself at home. This way.”
Nodding, Elanda followed the woman towards the flimsy wooden door to her cottage. The woman had a walk that seemed far too delicate for some rugged hermit in the woods. Her callused heels never appeared to touch the ground and her toes were always pointed, much like some fancy, posturing noblewoman. Why couldn’t those ladies ever just be content to just put one foot in front of the other like normal people? Elanda chose to ignore it for now. “Um, have you sensed anything unusual about the woods lately? Any presence of magic?”
The woman shrugged. “The sun still shines, the ferns still grow, and neither of us has turned into a frog, so no.” She opened the wooden door and passed through, while Elanda followed behind, ducking her head. After emerging on the other side, she found herself standing in a greenhouse, full of wooden shelves stocked with jars. There was no place to sit or even lie down. It looked like a terrible place to live, even for a half-elf who considered rocks to be half-decent substitutes for pillows. She looked around. “Where do I sit?”
“Oh, the kitchen is this way,” the woman said, gesturing towards a door.
Elanda stared, blinking. “A door? You mean this isn’t the whole cottage?” The door had to lead to a very small room, considering all the space taken up by the greenhouse. Shrugging, she followed the woman through the door into an even bigger room, with a fur carpet, a rocking chair, and a polished wooden dining room table. A painting of a well-dressed man with a boyish face, hung from the wall nearby, framed in interconnected golden leaves.
“Delightful, isn’t it?” the woman asked. She turned and looked her guest up and down. “So, you are, an elf, right?”
Elanda offered a rueful smile. “If you asked the elves, they’d say, ‘No’.”
The woman nodded. “I see.” She continued to stare, her eyes darting between the two parts of Elanda’s sparse clothing.
“I learned to hunt in the Western Steppes,” Elanda said, answering the woman’s unspoken question. “I don’t feel like a hunter if I’m not dressed like one.”
“But isn’t that orc territory? Why would you dress like an orcish hunter?”
“Long story,” Elanda said. “How about you? You have an awfully clean tunic for someone who spends all day in bushes picking plants and berries.”
The woman laughed, but Elanda did not laugh with her. “Oh! I’m simply rather – er, I mean, I’m just good at what I do. The better you get, the cleaner you are when you come back from work.” She shrugged, watching Elanda to see how she’d react.
Elanda’s gaze drifted downwards. “You must be pretty good then. Your feet are spotless, and I’m sure I saw you working barefoot outdoors.”
The woman opened her mouth to speak, but paused, covering one foot with the other. “Um, look, you must be hungry. Allow me to conjure up – I mean, gather up some berries, and you’ll be - ah!”
In a quick motion, Elanda reached back and grasped the hilt of her blade. She swung it diagonally, stopping it just before it could sever the woman’s head from her body.
“You’re fooling no one. Clearly, you’re no herbalist. What brings an enchantress like you to these woods? Don’t try anything if you wanna keep your head!”
The woman took a few moments to compose herself before she spoke. “I beg your pardon – I mean, uh, what in blazes?” She sighed. “Oh, blast it all!” Snapping her fingers, there was a brief flash of light, and before Elanda stood a completely different woman. No bigger or smaller than the herbalist from before, but gone was the straw gardening hat. In its place, almond brown hair tumbled down the woman’s heart-shaped head, hanging over her thin shoulders, while also framing a pair of striking red eyes. Also gone, was the herbalist garb. In its place, a flowing purple silk gown hung from the woman’s shoulders, stopping halfway down her lower legs. Soft moss bracelets hung loosely around her wrists and one of her bare ankles, and her feet had taken on a new appearance. Lighter in complexion and impossibly free of wrinkles or blemishes, it was clear that their owner was not accustomed to the hardships of menial labor, or even walking on solid ground for that matter. The sparkling cherry red nail polish made that even more apparent. A pair of clear dragonfly wings fluttered behind her back, giving off a magical light. “Titania, Queen of the Fey, at your service,” the woman said with a smile and a bow.
All this magic made Elanda’s muscles tense. She shifted her weight forward, ready to strike if anything suspicious happened. “Tell me who you are and what you’re doing here?”
Titania rolled her eyes. “Honestly, the manners of you people. I was just escaping. Court life among the fey grew tiresome, so I decided it was time I paid a visit to your realm. There’s nothing wrong with that, I assume?”
Elanda cursed under her breath. “Fair folk. I shoulda known.” Just mentioning them brought a snarl to her lips. Cowardly, dishonorable creatures. Weaklings who used magic and trickery to subjugate the strong. Part of her wanted to bolt from the room before she ended up turning into a flower, a rare gem, or a field mouse. The other part of her wanted to cut this affront to the natural order down before she had the chance to try it. Only her sense of honor stayed her hand. “I’m guessing you’re the one behind the missing huntsmen, and the screwing up of the woods?”
Titania’s mouth fell open. “Screwing up? I take offense to that. Everything was so dull and predictable, with paths always leading to the same destination, and the layout of the forest never changing. I like it much better this way.”
Elanda’s hand tightened around the hilt, bicep tensing to finish the swing, but she shook her head, sheathed her sword, and reached forward instead, grabbing the fairy queen by the arm. “Come with me. We’re taking a walk to the Arben authorities. Try anything and I’ll cut you down. No second chances.”
Titania’s red eyes widened. “Excuse me!? Don’t I at least get a chance to explain myself?” She tried to pull away, but Elanda held her, feeling even less strain on her sinewy fingers than she usually got from her own sword.
“One more word out of you and I’ll carry you back unconscious.”
“But how will you escape the forest without my help?”
“I’ll find a way, now shut up!”
Titania complied, which came as an immense relief. Who knew what kinds of tricks she could pull with those honeyed words of hers. “Good. Now let’s go-AARGH!” Elanda cried out as Titania’s heel came down on her toes. For someone with such a delicate, courtly appearance, she knew how to stomp.
She threw a dainty eblow into Elanda’s gut, striking with all the force and fury of a startled squirrel. Still, that was all it took for Titania to break free and bolt, her doll-like bare feet hovering an inch above the ground as her dragonfly wings flapped like a hummingbird’s.
“Hey!” Elanda’s arms acted on their own. The sword rang as is sprung from its sheath and swished through the air as it arced downwards, right through her target, cleaving the wooden rocking chair behind her in two before stopping. The fleeing woman disintegrated into thin air, leaving behind no traces of her whatsoever. Elanda shook her head. “Ugh! Rotton fair folk. Can’t even die properly.” Shaking her head, she raised her hilt to return the blade to its sheath. “Well, I did warn her.”
“I think that was uncalled for,” Titania’s voice said from behind. Elanda wheeled around, sword still half-way out of its sheath, and saw the fey woman standing beside the door, waving a pearly arm. “I believe you owe me an explanation.”
“Just hold still, you blood cursed fairy!” Elanda charged her, bare feet slapping on the wooden floorboards as she ran with her blade raised.
Titania darted into the greenhouse, disappearing behind the wooden doorframe, while Elanda followed after her.
She skidded to a halt and turned to find the fairy queen staring at her from across the glass table in the center, holding a jar of luminescent mushrooms in her delicate hands. “Please, swordswoman, I apologize if I made any trouble. The ways of your kind are still unfamiliar to me. Will you accept this jar of mushrooms as payment for my life? They were picked in the Feywild. I’ve met merchants and scholars who have been willing to pay a small fortune for just one of these.”
The offer gave Elanda pause, as she recalled the fancy new sword polish, or the exclusive premium whetstone she’d last seen at the Arben Armory a week ago. However, she trusted the words of mages and thieves more than the words of anyone from the Feywild, and as long as this woman lived and breathed, who knew what she was capable of?
Sword ready, she advanced on Titania. It’s the law of nature! The memory of Gra’Huk’s voice echoed in her mind. The strong live and the weak die, or live serving the strong. If any of you weaklings crosses me, I’ll take your head without a second thought. The memory of those savage words made her grimace, but they rang true for her as she readied her blade to strike.
Titania backed herself into the corner of the room, knocking over a few jars with her elbows and shoulders and jumping as they shattered on the floor. “R-really, these are genuine Feywild mushrooms! I would never lie to you! Really. I promise! See?” She removed the lid and blew inside.
“Save it for the afterlife, or wherever you fey creatures go!” Elanda raised her sword to cut the woman down, when she felt a tickle inside her nose. She shook her head and tried to focus, but it was impossible to ignore. “Ah, ahhh!” She saw Titania move to flee and prepared to cut her down, but her sinus acted first. “ACHOO!”
All of a sudden, she felt the floor drop out from under her feet. Peering down, she saw a wide meadow, layered with tall grass, daffodils and a small wooden table with a tin mug resting on the very edge. However, all this concerned her far less than the fact that it was thousands of meters below her and approaching fast. She screamed as her body entered freefall. Clouds whizzed by her, some smelling of licorice and tasting of wine. She flailed her arms and legs, trying to orient herself. The ground was getting closer. How was this happening!? Had she survived the orcish labor camps, taken the orc chieftain’s head, and built herself up as the Blade of the Wilds, only to die to a woman in a cottage?
She forced herself to take slower breaths. It’s okay. Dying is just a part of life, or something like that. My family awaits me. What would her parents think when she stood before them once again? Would they still love her after everything she’d given up for her own survival? Her thoughts then drifted to her companions, the closest thing to a family that she had, back in the realm of the living. Would they ever find her body, or would they spend the rest of their days worrying about her? She felt like laughing, but as much as she hated to admit it, the thought of their worried faces made her eyes burn.
She could see the blades of grass below her, and only had a moment to close her eyes as she prepared for the final impact. She hit the grass with a thud, or more of a whoomp, as if she’d fallen only a few inches. Pushing herself up, she checked her body, flexing her fingers, rolling her wrists, and patting down her stomach and legs. Nothing was broken, but she felt weak. She trembled while her heart pounded against her chest. “I’m… alive!?” she gasped and rolled onto her back, staring at the sky. She felt salt in her eyes but shook the feeling away with a fierce grimace. Crying was for the weak.
She lay there until the shock had left her system. “Well, Gra’Huk, enough resting. Time to find that fey witch!” She gave him a final pat on his bone forehead before preparing to rise. However, as she tried to push herself up, something held her back. She pulled with her arms, but her wrists were entangled in the tall grass. “Let go, you rotten plants!” The grass stretched from her efforts and then snapped. “By the blood! When has grass ever been this clingy?” she said as she pulled her wrist free.
However, the grass then began to move. More of it shot up from the ground, like a swarm of thin, grasping, green tentacles and coiled around her wrists, pulling them back with more force than before. She gasped as she was jerked onto her back. “I SAID LET GO!” She pulled again, her muscles tensing as she snapped more prehensile grass. However, every minor victory only came with more strands of grass coming to pull her back down.
Something wet touched feet. Looking up past the fur and leather mounds on her chest, a pair of young spotted deer stood by her, noses examining her soles. Her feet twitched and pulled away as another wet nose nudged her arch. She tried to pull her legs back, but the grass had gotten to her ankles as well. “H-hey! Cut it out! My feet aren’t plants for tasting!”
The deer appeared to get the opposite message. Elanda felt a coarse wet tongue settle on each of her heels. Their touch alone was enough to make her jump. Once those tongues began running up the soles of her thick, athletic feet, she was well past the point of resisting before she could even begin to try. Sliding across her wide arches, and flicking across her long toes, the invasive tongues made her throw her head back, laughing towards the orange polka dot sky.
“Eeeahahahaha! Stahahahappit! No! No! Nohohohoho!” Her fight with the grass became less effective as her focused resistance was replaced with mindless hysterical flailing. The grass held against her violent but brief jerks, coiling around her wrists and ankles, and then her forearms and lower legs. Her muscles began to tire and soon all she could do was lie immobile on the floor and howl with laughter as the deer licked her to madness. She giggled as their tongues caressed the outsides of her heels, protested through her giggles as they traced the outer edges of her soles, and slipped into full laughter as they circled up to her twitching toes. Once they converged on her arches, though, she lost it, her laughter now a booming cackle.
“Eeeeeahahahaha! Nahahahahat theheheheere! I hate it! Hahaha!” She tried to cover one foot with the other, but they were spaced too far apart, and the deer seemed to take a special interest in the centers of her arches. This was all wrong. Deer were supposed to be her food, not the other way around. Retroactively, falling to her death no longer sounded so bad.
*
She awoke with a start, to find herself staring at the wooden ceiling of the enchanted cottage. “Huh?” She raised her head. The walls around her looked different. White plaster surrounded her. Off to the side, sat a wooden stool and an easel with a half-finished painting of the youthful man she’d seen on the wall of the other room.
A small circlular wooden table was off to the side. Beside it, Titania, sipped from a porcelain cup of tea, leaning back with one leg folded over the other, twirling a dangling foot in the air and hula-hooping the vine anklet around it. “Mmmmmm…” she hummed to herself as she finished last of her tea. “Herbal Nectar and Honey. My favorite.”
Elanda tried to sit up, but couldn’t move any of her limbs more than an inch. Vines bound her wrists to the large wooden table she lay upon, pulling her arms out to either side of her, while another set of vines tugged at her ankles, keeping her bare feet outstretched in front of her. She could not see where the vines were anchored. Knowing fairies, it would not have surprised her if the vines were part of the table she lay upon.
She pulled at them, grunting and cursing, and they stretched, but did not break. She fell back against the table and the vines were quick to re-tighten around her. “Blood of Orcus!” she cursed. She tilted her head up and glowered at Titania. “Untie me, you coward!”
Titania unfolded her legs and got up, walking over to where Elanda lay, while sporting a dull frown. “You certainly live up to your name, Blade of the Wilds. You seem to do all of your thinking with that sharp hunk of metal.” She reached for Elanda’s sword which lay against the wall behind her. Grasping the bone hilt, she titled it away from the wall, only to stumble as gravity pulled her downward into an unladylike, stooping squat. “Urrrgh! How do you even wield this thing!?” Her royal hands shook as they grasped the hilt, but even as she went red in the face, the hilt of the sword would not lift an inch.
With a heaving groan, she released the sword, nearly falling over as she let it drop to the ground with a heavy clang, missing her polished toes by inches. She wiped her forehead, giving the weapon a scornful look as she caught her breath. “Well, I guess that rules out giving you the poetic finish with your own sword, but I was getting ahead of myself anyway.” She approached the table and stared down at the half-elf warrior, grinning in a way that made Elanda feel even more naked than her fur and leather two-piece normally allowed.
“What’re you looking at?” Elanda said.
Titania blinked and shook her head as if Elanda were a statue that had just come to life. “Oh, pardon me. I’m quite the appreciator of aesthetics, you see, and I’m certain I’ve never before seen such elegant elven beauty mixed with such raw savagery. I find it hard to believe those glowing golden curls, sharp blue eyes and that smooth chin belong to the powerful body they’re attached to.”
Elanda returned a blank stare. “Well, uh, they are,” she said, unsure whether or not she was being complimented or mocked. Comments like these were not uncommon for her whenever she left the solitude of the forest. Elves would sneer at her, and most civilized non-elves would avoid her, watching her from a distance. In the seedier parts of town, the few who weren’t put off by her dress and temperament would attempt to get close to her, often sporting a bold look, as if she were dangerous game to be hunted.
Titania continued to examine her. “And then there’s that sparse orcish garb, if I can even call it that. If these were made of cotton, I would call them undergarments. Honestly, what are they intended to protect? You really leave yourself exposed.” She made her point by placing her hand atop the half-elf’s bare belly and tapping her finger. “Imagine, if my hand was a dagger.”
Elanda hissed and sucked in her gut. She struggled to meet the woman’s gaze. “Yeah? Well, if you think you’re such an expert on combat, untie me and show me what you’re made of.”
Titania did not acknowledge the remark. “Of course, most enchanting of all is that attitude of yours. Such a boorish, brutish attitude. Nothing I’ve ever seen from an elf or a half-elf before. Honestly, it’s that very attitude that got you into this mess.”
Elanda looked the fey woman in the eyes, recalling the big fall, the grasping grass, and the foot-loving deer. “Enough useless words, fey woman! What did you do to me?”
“What did I? Oh! Right.” Titania laughed. “Did you enjoy your first whiff of fey spores? They can be quite the treat at parties, but the first dose tends to hit a lot harder than the rest.” She giggled as she stared at the ceiling. “I remember my first time. I had assured everyone that I had the presence of mind to try some fey spores without embarrassing myself. After taking a long and confident sniff, I woke up, trading tongues with a frog, while lovingly fondling a bottle of wine. Even after six hundred years, no one has ever let me forget that.”
Elanda squinted, trying to piece the information together, then she gasped. “So, I just dreamed all that stuff?!”
“Most likely. What did you dream?”
Elanda’s blush returned. “None of your business, fairy!” Crossing her feet, she rubbed her toe along the sole of her other foot. It was wet. Her eyes narrowed. “What did you do to my body while I was out?”
Titania put a finger to her lower lip in thought. “Well, I did not have to do much. Maybe a push here, a nudge there. You were very compliant. With my guidance you walked right over to that table and lay down. I secured you in those vines for reasons even your savage mind should be able to figure out. I also hand-fed you some berries, because your stomach would not stop rumbling. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“And my feet?”
“Oh, I gave them a quick scrub. They were tracking dirt all over my floor.” Titania giggled. “You really were quite the kicker. It was rather cute.” She leaned over the table, looking Elanda in the eye while her dainty, long-nailed finger began tracing around the shield tattoo atop Elanda’s right foot.
Elanda could barely even see the tips of her toes over her own chest, but she could feel Titania’s touch, and tried to ignore it.
Titania grinned at her while her red gaze seemed to stare through Elanda’s blue, deep into something beyond. “You are in a lot of trouble, you know. I still haven’t forgiven you for trying to cleave me in two. If we were back in the Feywild, I would have no shortage of fitting punishments for you. You could be my new pet frog, or I could make you into a nice little dagger for me to give to my darling, King Oberon.”
Elanda’s foot twitched, unable to keep still as Titania’s finger continued to tease it, her long, shining, red nail seeming to spark across Elanda’s suntanned skin, following the outline of the shield no matter where the foot in question moved.
She jerked her foot to the side which only made things worse as Titania’s nail slid down from the very top to tease her instep. Elanda clenched her hands and resisted the urge to snicker. Did this woman know what she was doing, or was she just being coy? She did not seem to be paying attention to it at all, but those astute eyes would notice if she let any weakness show.
“However,” Titania said, “it seems that my powers are not what they were back in my kingdom, so I’ll have to make do with answers instead. Would you care to explain why you tried to cut me down? This is not how you treat all fairies is it?”
Elanda was in no mood to talk. Focusing on two things at once outside of combat was never a strength of hers, and at this particular moment, she cared more about maintaining her stern, giggle-free expression than she did about answering anything this woman would ask her.
“Is there a problem?” Titania said. “Was my question too hard for you? I know, it must be difficult, having to ask yourself why you used your sword on someone. This must be a new concept for someone like you.”
Elanda glowered at her but did not respond.
“Very well, we’ll start with a subject more fitting for you. Tattoos for instance.” Stepping back, she pressed her other finger to the sole of Elanda’s other foot, tracing over the curved sword design that had been tattooed there.
Elanda suppressed a gasp and fought to keep her face muscles in control, but with a finger running across each of her feet, it was all the poor half-elf could do not to break into a goofy grin.
“Such an impressive design, and so detailed. On the sole of your foot too. I hope you were not ticklish.”
Elanda gasped, the word “ticklish” nearly triggering a stream of giggles as it sent a tingling wave through her body.
Titania began to trace slow circles around the ball of her foot, and soon the stubborn half-elf’s lips were clamped shut, while she struggled to regulate her breathing.
Titania droned on. “I’ve always wanted a nice design like that for my feet. Maybe a rose or a drop of dew, but of course, if I let someone do that to me, I would need to be tied down like you, because I would be laughing and kicking nonstop.”
“Dohon’t touch me!”
The sharpness from Elanda’s booming voice caused Titania to step back, giving the swordswoman a welcome break from the tickling. “Oh my, someone is sensitive. If my touch was bothering you, there were plenty of nicer ways to let me know.”
“Only the strong can lay their hands on me,” Elanda said, free at last to speak without worrying about giggling. “If I wasn’t tied up, you’d be on the floor right now, dead or unconscious.”
“I see,” Titania said, nodding. “That is a fairly draconian code you’ve set for yourself. You warriors seem to always care so much about your codes. Or in your case, perhaps you’re just ticklish?”
The question came out like an afterthought, followed by an amused grin, leaving Elanda unsure whether or not to respond, but her strong feet responded by crossing.
Titania put a hand to her mouth, giggling through her fingers. “Oh my! Was that a reaction I just saw? ARE you ticklish?”
Elanda’s feet betrayed her again, crossing and curling before she could even think to stop them. Still, she shook her head. “Don’t be stupid! Maybe if I was a spoiled princess, a little girl, or a fragile fairy, I would be, but that isn’t a problem for warriors.” She grinned, nodding to herself, certain that it sounded as convincing to her captor as it had to her.
However, Titania had an inquisitive squint that made Elanda worry. “I’m not so sure about that. I was pretty certain I heard a hint of a giggle when you snapped at me.” She moved in closer, until she was standing right at the edge of the table, one curled finger away from touching Elanda’s feet.
Her cherubic eyes narrowed, giving an air of malice to her grin. “Not that you would want me to find out of course - if you are ticklish that is.” She laid her hands atop the pair of feet in front of her, touching them but not tickling. Their presence made Elanda’s heartbeat skyrocket. “I know how much you warriors care about your pride. Just imagine, a formidable warrior like you, bested and broken by a dainty little flower like me, all from something as silly as tickling. Truly a horror, no?”
Elanda swallowed but forced herself to nod. “Y-yes, that’d be pretty bad.”
“If you were ticklish of course.”
“R-right! Yeah. So, uh, good thing I’m not. Heh.”
“I suppose you wouldn’t mind me finding out then?”
Elanda furrowed her brows. “Yes, I would mind. No touching, unworthy one!”
Titania placed her hands on her hips and stared down at Elanda. “Well, if you’re really so afraid of being touched, then can you truly say that I’m unworthy of touching you? You said only the strong can touch you, but this reluctance of yours really makes you look rather weak.”
Elanda’s eyes shot open, and a faint memory flickered through her mind.
A dead elf slave lies on the ground, run through with a sword. His orcish killer looks down at him, curls his lips and spits. “Weak,” the orc mutters under his breath, giving the body a final kick before walking away.
Elanda’s fists clenched and her nostrils flared. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “I survived orc captivity for forty long years. Many others died.” Her angular eyes became downcast, but her fists and jaw clenched. “Weaklings! The whole craven lot of them! Damn them! If I was some weak no-sack, like them, those damned orcs would have me lying dead in a flaming ditch right now!” Her head snapped up, her eyes drilling into the startled gaze of her captor, while she wrenched against the vines holding her. “You know nothing of strength and weakness! Take that all back, you flaming fey whore!” Once she had finished, she was panting and Titania was backed against the wall.
She stared at Elanda without speaking. After a long pause, she raised a hand and brushed some brown strands of hair away from her face. “Sorry. It seems that my choice of wording was poor. Let me try again.” She spread her hands and spaced her words out, as if she were speaking to a foreigner. “Would you like to show me that you are strong, by letting me see if you are ticklish?”
Elanda felt calmer about the question this time, but the damage to her pride still lingered. “Why – why waste your time? I swear, if you come any closer.”
Titania came closer. “Relax. I’ll just give your feet a quick tickle. Just a little bit. If nothing happens, then I’ll stop.”
“Nothing will happen!” Elanda said, trying to push the fairy queen away with her glower.
“Well then, leeet’s find out,” she said with a musical flourish.
Giving up, Elanda fell back. I am a warrior. I can handle this, she told herself, clenching her long toes in anticipation. She felt a finger press into the ball of her foot, just below the toes, tracing up and down in very light, fluid strokes. Her lip began to quiver, but she forced herself not to grin. “S-see? Not t-ticklish.”
“So you say, but your feet seem to say otherwise.”
Elanda opened an eye, daring to look ahead and sure enough, her foot was twitching, and trying to move away, toes curling in defense when Titania approached the top of the foot, and flexing as the finger wandered further downward. She could tell that she wasn’t selling her “not ticklish” claim very well.
She willed her foot to remain still, but that only made the tickling worse as the finger explored the wide sole of her foot like a lost ant, sending a lone tingle along her sole, that was so hard to ignore. She broke into a grin and her lips began to part, but her teeth remained clenched in a strained yet mirthful smile.
“Hmm… I don’t hear any laughter, but what if I add another hand?”
Elanda’s eyes bugged out as her other foot received a tingly visitor of its own. She shook her head, willing all the accumulating giggles to remain in her gullet. One finger scratched along the lower end of her foot, straddling the invisible line between her sturdy heel and her smooth arch, while the other flicked back and forth along her long toes alternating between the tops and bottoms as they curled and flexed in response.
“Impressive! We have a sturdy little warrior woman here. Truly, an unshakeable rock. What if I added a finger to each hand?”
Soon, the lone wandering fingers were replaced by pairs, alternating scratches along her ever-wavering feet. She couldn’t keep them still any longer. Her feet began to wiggle again, trying to outmaneuver their pairs of ticklers but it helped less than she’d hoped. Pressure built up in her head. How long was “Just a little bit” supposed to be again?
“Such a toughie we have here,” Titania cooed. “Not ticklish at all. Three fingers?”
This was too much. Elanda was positive she’d never tried so hard not to laugh before. She sucked in her breath and held it. There was no other way. The three-fingered tickling was maddening and the simple act of breathing without breaking into frustrated laughter had become impossible at this point. The trios of fingers circled around Elanda’s arches, mirroring each other, with one approaching her heel while the other circled up towards the ball of her foot. Her face began to flush red, while pressure built up in her head. She doubted she was proving anything at this point.
The tickling stopped and Elanda let out a deep sigh, her bare belly expanding and contracting as she caught her breath.
“Well, it looks like I was wrong after all,” Titania said. “My apologies for doubting you, Blade of the Wilds.” With a light bow of her head, she turned her back to Elanda, who let herself fall back as she relaxed her muscles.
“Butjustonemoreforgoodmeasure!!” Titania said. Spinning around, she plunged all five fingers into both of Elanda’s arches and began spidering up and down them together.
Taken completely by surprise, all those unused giggles erupted from Elanda in roaring laughter. “Hahahahahahahaha!” She slapped the table with her palms and shook her head, unable to stop herself.
“Oh my! What’s this? Do I hear laughter?” Titania reprimanded Elanda with a baby voice. “Oooh! Someone’s been hiding secrets from me. Someone’s a naughty little girl. Naughty little girls need to be punished.” Her fingers skittered up and down Elanda’s bare soles, one going from up to down, while the other went down to up, both traveling the full distance from heels to toes, and making Elanda shriek as they both passed over the centers of her arches together.
The poor swordswoman was beside herself. “Nohohohohoho! Stahahahapit! Stahahahahap!” she said, trying to put some authority into her voice so it didn’t sound too much like she was begging.
“Such a big, big lie. Such a bad girl. You’re not just ticklish. You’re very ticklish.”
“I’m nohohohohot. I swehehehehehear!” Elanda’s sides began to ache. How much longer was this fairy witch planning to tickle her?
Titania put a hand to her mouth. “Oh! You’re not? I was almost positive you were. Please, explain these wiggling toes, that red face, and all that cute laughter.” She then tapped her head while her eyes lit up. “Ah! Are you just doing this to humor me, so I won’t feel bad about being wrong? Is that what you’re doing, my noble swordswoman?”
Elanda’s grasp of irony was feeble enough in those precious moments when she wasn’t in the middle of a manic fit of hysteria. As she lay there, weeping tears of laughter, Titania’s teasing praise had her mind spinning in circles.
“Really, you’re so sweet, but you can stop now. This has gone on long enough.” She waited, but her fingers continued their work, one hand tapping under Elanda’s toes while the other clawed at the center of her arch.
Elanda let out a hysterical wail, feeling assured that she’d reached new depths of degradation, but she could not stop laughing. Not even close. She was certain she could stop a war hammer swung from horseback with her bare hands if she tried hard enough, but trying to halt her own laughter for even a moment? No, she wasn’t that arrogant.
Titania sighed and tapped her red-nailed toes on the floor. “Look, I appreciate all the effort you’ve put into indulging me, but this is enough. The thought is appreciated, but you can really stop.”
“I cahahahahan’t hahahahaha!”
“But you SAID you weren’t really ticklish right?” Titania gasped. “NO! You weren’t lying to me again, were you?”
Elanda had run out of patience, or whatever passed for patience with her aggressive temperament. Each laugh hurt like a punch to the sides and she found herself struggling to breathe. “JUHUHUHUST FLAMING STAHAHAHAHAP ALREADY! HAHAHAHA!”
“More footprints,” Elanda said in a low grunt, bending down to study the leaves and twigs on the ground. Clearing away all the debris, she squinted at the prints in the soil beneath her. “Hey, take a look at that, Gra’Huk,” she said, angling her head towards the orcish skull that hung from the right side of her belt, “Five toe marks. Our allies may be close.”
A more skeptical part of her knew this did not narrow things down much. Footwear was not common among the many wild denizens of the Arben forest, and these tracks could easily belong to a small lizard kin, a wandering ninja, a druid, or one of the wilder of the forest elves. Still finding fresh tracks at all in this vast expanse was a rare enough thing indeed. She smiled and hung onto hope, rubbing Gra’Huk for good luck as she continued her study of the tracks.
“These prints run deep. That rules out the little brat Janet, eh?” Even if the young kunoichi for hire had been heavier, her agile, young feet were too small to have left tracks like these. “No signs of claw marks.” That ruled out the demoness, Dera, with her red clawed toes. “No surprises there, eh, Gra’Huk? She never goes anywhere without her summoner.” Elanda smirked. “No winding, snakelike walking pattern either. So, these don’t belong to some spoiled desert princess who thinks she’s a trained monk.” She turned and spat, as she mentally crossed Rosa off her list. “And thank goodness for that. Imagine being stuck in the woods with her.”
Gra’Huk said nothing as usual, but he was a great listener, which was valuable, since Elanda tended to spend lots of time alone in the wilderness. In life, as an orcish chieftain, Gra’Huk probably understood her better than anyone else she knew, at least before she’d taken his head and claimed her freedom.
She stared closer at the ground, her sky blue eyes narrowing further. “Still, I know I’ve seen these before. Judging by the wide arch width, long arch length, toe size.” Elanda paused, then shook her head. “Wait a minute!” Getting up off the ground, she placed her foot over one of the tracks. A perfect match. She stared down at her sun-reddened bare foot in silence, her hand clenching around the bone hilt of her sword. A gentle breeze blew through the area, a leaf touched her shoulder, and Elanda’s teeth clenched. “Rrrrrrraaah!” Spinning, she swung her sharp, uneven blade and hacked off a nearby tree branch, sending it flying off into the bushes with a heavy THUD.
Grumbling, she fell back against the tree branch’s owner and slid to the ground, letting her toned, bare legs sprawl out in front of her. Her tight stomach began to rumble, but hunger wasn’t at the forefront of her woes. “Me of all people, lost in the woods.” She shook her head. This was absurd, like getting lost in her own bedroom, which often tended to be in the woods, since it beat having to worry about living expenses.
If she couldn’t find her own way through this place, then those missing woodsmen she and her party had been tracking were as good as lost. Something wasn’t right. Pathways no longer led where they used to, markers weren’t where she’d last seen them, and even when the positioning of the sun assured her she was walking in a straight line, she ended up going in circles.
Just then, her pointy half-elf ears picked up a rustle behind her. Gripping her blade, she planted her stout bare feet on the ground and rose to a standing position. Peeking around the tree behind her, she spotted a swish of hair, followed by the rapid crunching of leaves.
Keeping low, Elanda followed behind, running on her toes to lighten her footfalls, while steadying Gra’Huk with her right hand. Unburdened by anything but her sword, Gra’Huk, and a sparse fur and leather two-piece, she moved light and fast, ducking tree branches, hopping over bushes and leaping over the small brook up ahead of her in a single bound, her movements creating about as much sound as a gentle breeze. However, the pattering sound of her mark remained in the distance.
Following her ears, she saw a bright glow up ahead. Shielding her eyes, she leapt over the last bush in her path. As she landed, sunlight spilled over her face. She looked around and found herself in a large clearing. The breathtaking sight stopped her in her tracks making her shoulder-length blonde hair spill over her face. Brushing it aside, she rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times to make sure she was not dreaming. Up ahead lay a humble cottage, surrounded by perfectly symmetrical lines of flowers and a small rock formation with a miniature waterfall tumbling down it. Elanda could not figure out where the water was coming from. The small hairs on the back of her neck began to rise. There was something magical about this place, and nothing made her warier.
Up ahead, a woman in a straw gardening hat knelt on the ground, arms buried deep in a gathering of ferns and bushes as she hummed to herself and stuffed her basket with various plants. Elanda stared at her, scratching her head. There was something off about this woman, but what? After all, what was so unusual about finding an herbalist out in the middle of the woods?
“We’ll, talk later, Gra’Huk,” she whispered. After giving the skeletal head of the orc chieftain a final pat, she approached the woman, towering over her with her broad six-foot frame.
The herbalist looked up with a gasp and her eyes widened as her gaze fell upon the savage longsword in the imposing elf woman’s hand.
Elanda followed the woman’s gaze to her own sword. “Oh, uh!” She jerked her muscled arm up, feeling with the tip of her sword for the sheath behind her. Once it was back where it belonged, she focused on the woman, fumbling for the right words to say. “Ah, oops!” She grinned, shrugging.
The sheepish smile and the blush in her cheeks seemed to be enough to set the startled woman at ease. With a shaky smile, she stood and nodded her head. “G-greetings, traveler. What brings you to my cottage?”
“Oh, uh,” Elanda paused, wishing she had one of her more eloquent friends around to do the talking. “I’m The Blade of the Wilds. I’m on the hunt for some lost woodsmen. Do you, uh, know where they might be?” She shook her head. What a stupid question. “Or maybe a way out of these woods?”
The woman shrugged. “Can’t say that I’ve seen any woodsmen, and there’s no easy explanation for how to escape these woods, I’m afraid.”
Elanda sighed. She knew it was too much to hope for. “I’ve also been separated from my friends. Did you see a young ninja, a red-skinned demoness, a dark elf, or a human woman with skin the color of sand?”
The woman shook her head. “You’re the first person I’ve seen in days. Still, if you’re tired and need a moment to rest your mind, I picked berries earlier today. You’re welcome to some of them.”
Elanda took a deep breath and exhaled through her nose at the mention of berries. They weren’t her top choice for food. The same could be said for any other foods that didn’t either make her drunk or come from killing something in the wilderness. However, her legs ached and the thought of taking a short break more than made up for eating weakling food. “That’d be good.”
The woman smiled. “Then make yourself at home. This way.”
Nodding, Elanda followed the woman towards the flimsy wooden door to her cottage. The woman had a walk that seemed far too delicate for some rugged hermit in the woods. Her callused heels never appeared to touch the ground and her toes were always pointed, much like some fancy, posturing noblewoman. Why couldn’t those ladies ever just be content to just put one foot in front of the other like normal people? Elanda chose to ignore it for now. “Um, have you sensed anything unusual about the woods lately? Any presence of magic?”
The woman shrugged. “The sun still shines, the ferns still grow, and neither of us has turned into a frog, so no.” She opened the wooden door and passed through, while Elanda followed behind, ducking her head. After emerging on the other side, she found herself standing in a greenhouse, full of wooden shelves stocked with jars. There was no place to sit or even lie down. It looked like a terrible place to live, even for a half-elf who considered rocks to be half-decent substitutes for pillows. She looked around. “Where do I sit?”
“Oh, the kitchen is this way,” the woman said, gesturing towards a door.
Elanda stared, blinking. “A door? You mean this isn’t the whole cottage?” The door had to lead to a very small room, considering all the space taken up by the greenhouse. Shrugging, she followed the woman through the door into an even bigger room, with a fur carpet, a rocking chair, and a polished wooden dining room table. A painting of a well-dressed man with a boyish face, hung from the wall nearby, framed in interconnected golden leaves.
“Delightful, isn’t it?” the woman asked. She turned and looked her guest up and down. “So, you are, an elf, right?”
Elanda offered a rueful smile. “If you asked the elves, they’d say, ‘No’.”
The woman nodded. “I see.” She continued to stare, her eyes darting between the two parts of Elanda’s sparse clothing.
“I learned to hunt in the Western Steppes,” Elanda said, answering the woman’s unspoken question. “I don’t feel like a hunter if I’m not dressed like one.”
“But isn’t that orc territory? Why would you dress like an orcish hunter?”
“Long story,” Elanda said. “How about you? You have an awfully clean tunic for someone who spends all day in bushes picking plants and berries.”
The woman laughed, but Elanda did not laugh with her. “Oh! I’m simply rather – er, I mean, I’m just good at what I do. The better you get, the cleaner you are when you come back from work.” She shrugged, watching Elanda to see how she’d react.
Elanda’s gaze drifted downwards. “You must be pretty good then. Your feet are spotless, and I’m sure I saw you working barefoot outdoors.”
The woman opened her mouth to speak, but paused, covering one foot with the other. “Um, look, you must be hungry. Allow me to conjure up – I mean, gather up some berries, and you’ll be - ah!”
In a quick motion, Elanda reached back and grasped the hilt of her blade. She swung it diagonally, stopping it just before it could sever the woman’s head from her body.
“You’re fooling no one. Clearly, you’re no herbalist. What brings an enchantress like you to these woods? Don’t try anything if you wanna keep your head!”
The woman took a few moments to compose herself before she spoke. “I beg your pardon – I mean, uh, what in blazes?” She sighed. “Oh, blast it all!” Snapping her fingers, there was a brief flash of light, and before Elanda stood a completely different woman. No bigger or smaller than the herbalist from before, but gone was the straw gardening hat. In its place, almond brown hair tumbled down the woman’s heart-shaped head, hanging over her thin shoulders, while also framing a pair of striking red eyes. Also gone, was the herbalist garb. In its place, a flowing purple silk gown hung from the woman’s shoulders, stopping halfway down her lower legs. Soft moss bracelets hung loosely around her wrists and one of her bare ankles, and her feet had taken on a new appearance. Lighter in complexion and impossibly free of wrinkles or blemishes, it was clear that their owner was not accustomed to the hardships of menial labor, or even walking on solid ground for that matter. The sparkling cherry red nail polish made that even more apparent. A pair of clear dragonfly wings fluttered behind her back, giving off a magical light. “Titania, Queen of the Fey, at your service,” the woman said with a smile and a bow.
All this magic made Elanda’s muscles tense. She shifted her weight forward, ready to strike if anything suspicious happened. “Tell me who you are and what you’re doing here?”
Titania rolled her eyes. “Honestly, the manners of you people. I was just escaping. Court life among the fey grew tiresome, so I decided it was time I paid a visit to your realm. There’s nothing wrong with that, I assume?”
Elanda cursed under her breath. “Fair folk. I shoulda known.” Just mentioning them brought a snarl to her lips. Cowardly, dishonorable creatures. Weaklings who used magic and trickery to subjugate the strong. Part of her wanted to bolt from the room before she ended up turning into a flower, a rare gem, or a field mouse. The other part of her wanted to cut this affront to the natural order down before she had the chance to try it. Only her sense of honor stayed her hand. “I’m guessing you’re the one behind the missing huntsmen, and the screwing up of the woods?”
Titania’s mouth fell open. “Screwing up? I take offense to that. Everything was so dull and predictable, with paths always leading to the same destination, and the layout of the forest never changing. I like it much better this way.”
Elanda’s hand tightened around the hilt, bicep tensing to finish the swing, but she shook her head, sheathed her sword, and reached forward instead, grabbing the fairy queen by the arm. “Come with me. We’re taking a walk to the Arben authorities. Try anything and I’ll cut you down. No second chances.”
Titania’s red eyes widened. “Excuse me!? Don’t I at least get a chance to explain myself?” She tried to pull away, but Elanda held her, feeling even less strain on her sinewy fingers than she usually got from her own sword.
“One more word out of you and I’ll carry you back unconscious.”
“But how will you escape the forest without my help?”
“I’ll find a way, now shut up!”
Titania complied, which came as an immense relief. Who knew what kinds of tricks she could pull with those honeyed words of hers. “Good. Now let’s go-AARGH!” Elanda cried out as Titania’s heel came down on her toes. For someone with such a delicate, courtly appearance, she knew how to stomp.
She threw a dainty eblow into Elanda’s gut, striking with all the force and fury of a startled squirrel. Still, that was all it took for Titania to break free and bolt, her doll-like bare feet hovering an inch above the ground as her dragonfly wings flapped like a hummingbird’s.
“Hey!” Elanda’s arms acted on their own. The sword rang as is sprung from its sheath and swished through the air as it arced downwards, right through her target, cleaving the wooden rocking chair behind her in two before stopping. The fleeing woman disintegrated into thin air, leaving behind no traces of her whatsoever. Elanda shook her head. “Ugh! Rotton fair folk. Can’t even die properly.” Shaking her head, she raised her hilt to return the blade to its sheath. “Well, I did warn her.”
“I think that was uncalled for,” Titania’s voice said from behind. Elanda wheeled around, sword still half-way out of its sheath, and saw the fey woman standing beside the door, waving a pearly arm. “I believe you owe me an explanation.”
“Just hold still, you blood cursed fairy!” Elanda charged her, bare feet slapping on the wooden floorboards as she ran with her blade raised.
Titania darted into the greenhouse, disappearing behind the wooden doorframe, while Elanda followed after her.
She skidded to a halt and turned to find the fairy queen staring at her from across the glass table in the center, holding a jar of luminescent mushrooms in her delicate hands. “Please, swordswoman, I apologize if I made any trouble. The ways of your kind are still unfamiliar to me. Will you accept this jar of mushrooms as payment for my life? They were picked in the Feywild. I’ve met merchants and scholars who have been willing to pay a small fortune for just one of these.”
The offer gave Elanda pause, as she recalled the fancy new sword polish, or the exclusive premium whetstone she’d last seen at the Arben Armory a week ago. However, she trusted the words of mages and thieves more than the words of anyone from the Feywild, and as long as this woman lived and breathed, who knew what she was capable of?
Sword ready, she advanced on Titania. It’s the law of nature! The memory of Gra’Huk’s voice echoed in her mind. The strong live and the weak die, or live serving the strong. If any of you weaklings crosses me, I’ll take your head without a second thought. The memory of those savage words made her grimace, but they rang true for her as she readied her blade to strike.
Titania backed herself into the corner of the room, knocking over a few jars with her elbows and shoulders and jumping as they shattered on the floor. “R-really, these are genuine Feywild mushrooms! I would never lie to you! Really. I promise! See?” She removed the lid and blew inside.
“Save it for the afterlife, or wherever you fey creatures go!” Elanda raised her sword to cut the woman down, when she felt a tickle inside her nose. She shook her head and tried to focus, but it was impossible to ignore. “Ah, ahhh!” She saw Titania move to flee and prepared to cut her down, but her sinus acted first. “ACHOO!”
All of a sudden, she felt the floor drop out from under her feet. Peering down, she saw a wide meadow, layered with tall grass, daffodils and a small wooden table with a tin mug resting on the very edge. However, all this concerned her far less than the fact that it was thousands of meters below her and approaching fast. She screamed as her body entered freefall. Clouds whizzed by her, some smelling of licorice and tasting of wine. She flailed her arms and legs, trying to orient herself. The ground was getting closer. How was this happening!? Had she survived the orcish labor camps, taken the orc chieftain’s head, and built herself up as the Blade of the Wilds, only to die to a woman in a cottage?
She forced herself to take slower breaths. It’s okay. Dying is just a part of life, or something like that. My family awaits me. What would her parents think when she stood before them once again? Would they still love her after everything she’d given up for her own survival? Her thoughts then drifted to her companions, the closest thing to a family that she had, back in the realm of the living. Would they ever find her body, or would they spend the rest of their days worrying about her? She felt like laughing, but as much as she hated to admit it, the thought of their worried faces made her eyes burn.
She could see the blades of grass below her, and only had a moment to close her eyes as she prepared for the final impact. She hit the grass with a thud, or more of a whoomp, as if she’d fallen only a few inches. Pushing herself up, she checked her body, flexing her fingers, rolling her wrists, and patting down her stomach and legs. Nothing was broken, but she felt weak. She trembled while her heart pounded against her chest. “I’m… alive!?” she gasped and rolled onto her back, staring at the sky. She felt salt in her eyes but shook the feeling away with a fierce grimace. Crying was for the weak.
She lay there until the shock had left her system. “Well, Gra’Huk, enough resting. Time to find that fey witch!” She gave him a final pat on his bone forehead before preparing to rise. However, as she tried to push herself up, something held her back. She pulled with her arms, but her wrists were entangled in the tall grass. “Let go, you rotten plants!” The grass stretched from her efforts and then snapped. “By the blood! When has grass ever been this clingy?” she said as she pulled her wrist free.
However, the grass then began to move. More of it shot up from the ground, like a swarm of thin, grasping, green tentacles and coiled around her wrists, pulling them back with more force than before. She gasped as she was jerked onto her back. “I SAID LET GO!” She pulled again, her muscles tensing as she snapped more prehensile grass. However, every minor victory only came with more strands of grass coming to pull her back down.
Something wet touched feet. Looking up past the fur and leather mounds on her chest, a pair of young spotted deer stood by her, noses examining her soles. Her feet twitched and pulled away as another wet nose nudged her arch. She tried to pull her legs back, but the grass had gotten to her ankles as well. “H-hey! Cut it out! My feet aren’t plants for tasting!”
The deer appeared to get the opposite message. Elanda felt a coarse wet tongue settle on each of her heels. Their touch alone was enough to make her jump. Once those tongues began running up the soles of her thick, athletic feet, she was well past the point of resisting before she could even begin to try. Sliding across her wide arches, and flicking across her long toes, the invasive tongues made her throw her head back, laughing towards the orange polka dot sky.
“Eeeahahahaha! Stahahahappit! No! No! Nohohohoho!” Her fight with the grass became less effective as her focused resistance was replaced with mindless hysterical flailing. The grass held against her violent but brief jerks, coiling around her wrists and ankles, and then her forearms and lower legs. Her muscles began to tire and soon all she could do was lie immobile on the floor and howl with laughter as the deer licked her to madness. She giggled as their tongues caressed the outsides of her heels, protested through her giggles as they traced the outer edges of her soles, and slipped into full laughter as they circled up to her twitching toes. Once they converged on her arches, though, she lost it, her laughter now a booming cackle.
“Eeeeeahahahaha! Nahahahahat theheheheere! I hate it! Hahaha!” She tried to cover one foot with the other, but they were spaced too far apart, and the deer seemed to take a special interest in the centers of her arches. This was all wrong. Deer were supposed to be her food, not the other way around. Retroactively, falling to her death no longer sounded so bad.
*
She awoke with a start, to find herself staring at the wooden ceiling of the enchanted cottage. “Huh?” She raised her head. The walls around her looked different. White plaster surrounded her. Off to the side, sat a wooden stool and an easel with a half-finished painting of the youthful man she’d seen on the wall of the other room.
A small circlular wooden table was off to the side. Beside it, Titania, sipped from a porcelain cup of tea, leaning back with one leg folded over the other, twirling a dangling foot in the air and hula-hooping the vine anklet around it. “Mmmmmm…” she hummed to herself as she finished last of her tea. “Herbal Nectar and Honey. My favorite.”
Elanda tried to sit up, but couldn’t move any of her limbs more than an inch. Vines bound her wrists to the large wooden table she lay upon, pulling her arms out to either side of her, while another set of vines tugged at her ankles, keeping her bare feet outstretched in front of her. She could not see where the vines were anchored. Knowing fairies, it would not have surprised her if the vines were part of the table she lay upon.
She pulled at them, grunting and cursing, and they stretched, but did not break. She fell back against the table and the vines were quick to re-tighten around her. “Blood of Orcus!” she cursed. She tilted her head up and glowered at Titania. “Untie me, you coward!”
Titania unfolded her legs and got up, walking over to where Elanda lay, while sporting a dull frown. “You certainly live up to your name, Blade of the Wilds. You seem to do all of your thinking with that sharp hunk of metal.” She reached for Elanda’s sword which lay against the wall behind her. Grasping the bone hilt, she titled it away from the wall, only to stumble as gravity pulled her downward into an unladylike, stooping squat. “Urrrgh! How do you even wield this thing!?” Her royal hands shook as they grasped the hilt, but even as she went red in the face, the hilt of the sword would not lift an inch.
With a heaving groan, she released the sword, nearly falling over as she let it drop to the ground with a heavy clang, missing her polished toes by inches. She wiped her forehead, giving the weapon a scornful look as she caught her breath. “Well, I guess that rules out giving you the poetic finish with your own sword, but I was getting ahead of myself anyway.” She approached the table and stared down at the half-elf warrior, grinning in a way that made Elanda feel even more naked than her fur and leather two-piece normally allowed.
“What’re you looking at?” Elanda said.
Titania blinked and shook her head as if Elanda were a statue that had just come to life. “Oh, pardon me. I’m quite the appreciator of aesthetics, you see, and I’m certain I’ve never before seen such elegant elven beauty mixed with such raw savagery. I find it hard to believe those glowing golden curls, sharp blue eyes and that smooth chin belong to the powerful body they’re attached to.”
Elanda returned a blank stare. “Well, uh, they are,” she said, unsure whether or not she was being complimented or mocked. Comments like these were not uncommon for her whenever she left the solitude of the forest. Elves would sneer at her, and most civilized non-elves would avoid her, watching her from a distance. In the seedier parts of town, the few who weren’t put off by her dress and temperament would attempt to get close to her, often sporting a bold look, as if she were dangerous game to be hunted.
Titania continued to examine her. “And then there’s that sparse orcish garb, if I can even call it that. If these were made of cotton, I would call them undergarments. Honestly, what are they intended to protect? You really leave yourself exposed.” She made her point by placing her hand atop the half-elf’s bare belly and tapping her finger. “Imagine, if my hand was a dagger.”
Elanda hissed and sucked in her gut. She struggled to meet the woman’s gaze. “Yeah? Well, if you think you’re such an expert on combat, untie me and show me what you’re made of.”
Titania did not acknowledge the remark. “Of course, most enchanting of all is that attitude of yours. Such a boorish, brutish attitude. Nothing I’ve ever seen from an elf or a half-elf before. Honestly, it’s that very attitude that got you into this mess.”
Elanda looked the fey woman in the eyes, recalling the big fall, the grasping grass, and the foot-loving deer. “Enough useless words, fey woman! What did you do to me?”
“What did I? Oh! Right.” Titania laughed. “Did you enjoy your first whiff of fey spores? They can be quite the treat at parties, but the first dose tends to hit a lot harder than the rest.” She giggled as she stared at the ceiling. “I remember my first time. I had assured everyone that I had the presence of mind to try some fey spores without embarrassing myself. After taking a long and confident sniff, I woke up, trading tongues with a frog, while lovingly fondling a bottle of wine. Even after six hundred years, no one has ever let me forget that.”
Elanda squinted, trying to piece the information together, then she gasped. “So, I just dreamed all that stuff?!”
“Most likely. What did you dream?”
Elanda’s blush returned. “None of your business, fairy!” Crossing her feet, she rubbed her toe along the sole of her other foot. It was wet. Her eyes narrowed. “What did you do to my body while I was out?”
Titania put a finger to her lower lip in thought. “Well, I did not have to do much. Maybe a push here, a nudge there. You were very compliant. With my guidance you walked right over to that table and lay down. I secured you in those vines for reasons even your savage mind should be able to figure out. I also hand-fed you some berries, because your stomach would not stop rumbling. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“And my feet?”
“Oh, I gave them a quick scrub. They were tracking dirt all over my floor.” Titania giggled. “You really were quite the kicker. It was rather cute.” She leaned over the table, looking Elanda in the eye while her dainty, long-nailed finger began tracing around the shield tattoo atop Elanda’s right foot.
Elanda could barely even see the tips of her toes over her own chest, but she could feel Titania’s touch, and tried to ignore it.
Titania grinned at her while her red gaze seemed to stare through Elanda’s blue, deep into something beyond. “You are in a lot of trouble, you know. I still haven’t forgiven you for trying to cleave me in two. If we were back in the Feywild, I would have no shortage of fitting punishments for you. You could be my new pet frog, or I could make you into a nice little dagger for me to give to my darling, King Oberon.”
Elanda’s foot twitched, unable to keep still as Titania’s finger continued to tease it, her long, shining, red nail seeming to spark across Elanda’s suntanned skin, following the outline of the shield no matter where the foot in question moved.
She jerked her foot to the side which only made things worse as Titania’s nail slid down from the very top to tease her instep. Elanda clenched her hands and resisted the urge to snicker. Did this woman know what she was doing, or was she just being coy? She did not seem to be paying attention to it at all, but those astute eyes would notice if she let any weakness show.
“However,” Titania said, “it seems that my powers are not what they were back in my kingdom, so I’ll have to make do with answers instead. Would you care to explain why you tried to cut me down? This is not how you treat all fairies is it?”
Elanda was in no mood to talk. Focusing on two things at once outside of combat was never a strength of hers, and at this particular moment, she cared more about maintaining her stern, giggle-free expression than she did about answering anything this woman would ask her.
“Is there a problem?” Titania said. “Was my question too hard for you? I know, it must be difficult, having to ask yourself why you used your sword on someone. This must be a new concept for someone like you.”
Elanda glowered at her but did not respond.
“Very well, we’ll start with a subject more fitting for you. Tattoos for instance.” Stepping back, she pressed her other finger to the sole of Elanda’s other foot, tracing over the curved sword design that had been tattooed there.
Elanda suppressed a gasp and fought to keep her face muscles in control, but with a finger running across each of her feet, it was all the poor half-elf could do not to break into a goofy grin.
“Such an impressive design, and so detailed. On the sole of your foot too. I hope you were not ticklish.”
Elanda gasped, the word “ticklish” nearly triggering a stream of giggles as it sent a tingling wave through her body.
Titania began to trace slow circles around the ball of her foot, and soon the stubborn half-elf’s lips were clamped shut, while she struggled to regulate her breathing.
Titania droned on. “I’ve always wanted a nice design like that for my feet. Maybe a rose or a drop of dew, but of course, if I let someone do that to me, I would need to be tied down like you, because I would be laughing and kicking nonstop.”
“Dohon’t touch me!”
The sharpness from Elanda’s booming voice caused Titania to step back, giving the swordswoman a welcome break from the tickling. “Oh my, someone is sensitive. If my touch was bothering you, there were plenty of nicer ways to let me know.”
“Only the strong can lay their hands on me,” Elanda said, free at last to speak without worrying about giggling. “If I wasn’t tied up, you’d be on the floor right now, dead or unconscious.”
“I see,” Titania said, nodding. “That is a fairly draconian code you’ve set for yourself. You warriors seem to always care so much about your codes. Or in your case, perhaps you’re just ticklish?”
The question came out like an afterthought, followed by an amused grin, leaving Elanda unsure whether or not to respond, but her strong feet responded by crossing.
Titania put a hand to her mouth, giggling through her fingers. “Oh my! Was that a reaction I just saw? ARE you ticklish?”
Elanda’s feet betrayed her again, crossing and curling before she could even think to stop them. Still, she shook her head. “Don’t be stupid! Maybe if I was a spoiled princess, a little girl, or a fragile fairy, I would be, but that isn’t a problem for warriors.” She grinned, nodding to herself, certain that it sounded as convincing to her captor as it had to her.
However, Titania had an inquisitive squint that made Elanda worry. “I’m not so sure about that. I was pretty certain I heard a hint of a giggle when you snapped at me.” She moved in closer, until she was standing right at the edge of the table, one curled finger away from touching Elanda’s feet.
Her cherubic eyes narrowed, giving an air of malice to her grin. “Not that you would want me to find out of course - if you are ticklish that is.” She laid her hands atop the pair of feet in front of her, touching them but not tickling. Their presence made Elanda’s heartbeat skyrocket. “I know how much you warriors care about your pride. Just imagine, a formidable warrior like you, bested and broken by a dainty little flower like me, all from something as silly as tickling. Truly a horror, no?”
Elanda swallowed but forced herself to nod. “Y-yes, that’d be pretty bad.”
“If you were ticklish of course.”
“R-right! Yeah. So, uh, good thing I’m not. Heh.”
“I suppose you wouldn’t mind me finding out then?”
Elanda furrowed her brows. “Yes, I would mind. No touching, unworthy one!”
Titania placed her hands on her hips and stared down at Elanda. “Well, if you’re really so afraid of being touched, then can you truly say that I’m unworthy of touching you? You said only the strong can touch you, but this reluctance of yours really makes you look rather weak.”
Elanda’s eyes shot open, and a faint memory flickered through her mind.
A dead elf slave lies on the ground, run through with a sword. His orcish killer looks down at him, curls his lips and spits. “Weak,” the orc mutters under his breath, giving the body a final kick before walking away.
Elanda’s fists clenched and her nostrils flared. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “I survived orc captivity for forty long years. Many others died.” Her angular eyes became downcast, but her fists and jaw clenched. “Weaklings! The whole craven lot of them! Damn them! If I was some weak no-sack, like them, those damned orcs would have me lying dead in a flaming ditch right now!” Her head snapped up, her eyes drilling into the startled gaze of her captor, while she wrenched against the vines holding her. “You know nothing of strength and weakness! Take that all back, you flaming fey whore!” Once she had finished, she was panting and Titania was backed against the wall.
She stared at Elanda without speaking. After a long pause, she raised a hand and brushed some brown strands of hair away from her face. “Sorry. It seems that my choice of wording was poor. Let me try again.” She spread her hands and spaced her words out, as if she were speaking to a foreigner. “Would you like to show me that you are strong, by letting me see if you are ticklish?”
Elanda felt calmer about the question this time, but the damage to her pride still lingered. “Why – why waste your time? I swear, if you come any closer.”
Titania came closer. “Relax. I’ll just give your feet a quick tickle. Just a little bit. If nothing happens, then I’ll stop.”
“Nothing will happen!” Elanda said, trying to push the fairy queen away with her glower.
“Well then, leeet’s find out,” she said with a musical flourish.
Giving up, Elanda fell back. I am a warrior. I can handle this, she told herself, clenching her long toes in anticipation. She felt a finger press into the ball of her foot, just below the toes, tracing up and down in very light, fluid strokes. Her lip began to quiver, but she forced herself not to grin. “S-see? Not t-ticklish.”
“So you say, but your feet seem to say otherwise.”
Elanda opened an eye, daring to look ahead and sure enough, her foot was twitching, and trying to move away, toes curling in defense when Titania approached the top of the foot, and flexing as the finger wandered further downward. She could tell that she wasn’t selling her “not ticklish” claim very well.
She willed her foot to remain still, but that only made the tickling worse as the finger explored the wide sole of her foot like a lost ant, sending a lone tingle along her sole, that was so hard to ignore. She broke into a grin and her lips began to part, but her teeth remained clenched in a strained yet mirthful smile.
“Hmm… I don’t hear any laughter, but what if I add another hand?”
Elanda’s eyes bugged out as her other foot received a tingly visitor of its own. She shook her head, willing all the accumulating giggles to remain in her gullet. One finger scratched along the lower end of her foot, straddling the invisible line between her sturdy heel and her smooth arch, while the other flicked back and forth along her long toes alternating between the tops and bottoms as they curled and flexed in response.
“Impressive! We have a sturdy little warrior woman here. Truly, an unshakeable rock. What if I added a finger to each hand?”
Soon, the lone wandering fingers were replaced by pairs, alternating scratches along her ever-wavering feet. She couldn’t keep them still any longer. Her feet began to wiggle again, trying to outmaneuver their pairs of ticklers but it helped less than she’d hoped. Pressure built up in her head. How long was “Just a little bit” supposed to be again?
“Such a toughie we have here,” Titania cooed. “Not ticklish at all. Three fingers?”
This was too much. Elanda was positive she’d never tried so hard not to laugh before. She sucked in her breath and held it. There was no other way. The three-fingered tickling was maddening and the simple act of breathing without breaking into frustrated laughter had become impossible at this point. The trios of fingers circled around Elanda’s arches, mirroring each other, with one approaching her heel while the other circled up towards the ball of her foot. Her face began to flush red, while pressure built up in her head. She doubted she was proving anything at this point.
The tickling stopped and Elanda let out a deep sigh, her bare belly expanding and contracting as she caught her breath.
“Well, it looks like I was wrong after all,” Titania said. “My apologies for doubting you, Blade of the Wilds.” With a light bow of her head, she turned her back to Elanda, who let herself fall back as she relaxed her muscles.
“Butjustonemoreforgoodmeasure!!” Titania said. Spinning around, she plunged all five fingers into both of Elanda’s arches and began spidering up and down them together.
Taken completely by surprise, all those unused giggles erupted from Elanda in roaring laughter. “Hahahahahahahaha!” She slapped the table with her palms and shook her head, unable to stop herself.
“Oh my! What’s this? Do I hear laughter?” Titania reprimanded Elanda with a baby voice. “Oooh! Someone’s been hiding secrets from me. Someone’s a naughty little girl. Naughty little girls need to be punished.” Her fingers skittered up and down Elanda’s bare soles, one going from up to down, while the other went down to up, both traveling the full distance from heels to toes, and making Elanda shriek as they both passed over the centers of her arches together.
The poor swordswoman was beside herself. “Nohohohohoho! Stahahahapit! Stahahahahap!” she said, trying to put some authority into her voice so it didn’t sound too much like she was begging.
“Such a big, big lie. Such a bad girl. You’re not just ticklish. You’re very ticklish.”
“I’m nohohohohot. I swehehehehehear!” Elanda’s sides began to ache. How much longer was this fairy witch planning to tickle her?
Titania put a hand to her mouth. “Oh! You’re not? I was almost positive you were. Please, explain these wiggling toes, that red face, and all that cute laughter.” She then tapped her head while her eyes lit up. “Ah! Are you just doing this to humor me, so I won’t feel bad about being wrong? Is that what you’re doing, my noble swordswoman?”
Elanda’s grasp of irony was feeble enough in those precious moments when she wasn’t in the middle of a manic fit of hysteria. As she lay there, weeping tears of laughter, Titania’s teasing praise had her mind spinning in circles.
“Really, you’re so sweet, but you can stop now. This has gone on long enough.” She waited, but her fingers continued their work, one hand tapping under Elanda’s toes while the other clawed at the center of her arch.
Elanda let out a hysterical wail, feeling assured that she’d reached new depths of degradation, but she could not stop laughing. Not even close. She was certain she could stop a war hammer swung from horseback with her bare hands if she tried hard enough, but trying to halt her own laughter for even a moment? No, she wasn’t that arrogant.
Titania sighed and tapped her red-nailed toes on the floor. “Look, I appreciate all the effort you’ve put into indulging me, but this is enough. The thought is appreciated, but you can really stop.”
“I cahahahahan’t hahahahaha!”
“But you SAID you weren’t really ticklish right?” Titania gasped. “NO! You weren’t lying to me again, were you?”
Elanda had run out of patience, or whatever passed for patience with her aggressive temperament. Each laugh hurt like a punch to the sides and she found herself struggling to breathe. “JUHUHUHUST FLAMING STAHAHAHAHAP ALREADY! HAHAHAHA!”
