This story contains the following: D/s, Master-slave dynamic, Blood fetish, Fantasy Romance
Notice: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the authors imaginations or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Somewhere in the seven valleys nestled in-between two rival territories there lay a fortress of dense brush, nettle and crooked woods. Beyond that was the cluster of Draeyth Mountains better known as the Telestic Precipice. Between the clans it was called many a name but the place was one and the same.
Keely Greyson had travelled a fortnight to reach this place. Shrugging on the withering cloak of night, she slid from the stolen mount and gave its rump a good slap to get the mare to gallop away. She looked after the animal a long moment mouthing a silent prayer for its safe return.
Then turning back she looked about her and eyed the dense forest muttering something in an old forgotten tongue. She took one wary step after another maneuvering the thick vines and log that impeded her path. After several hours she stopped and pulled a strip of dried meat from her satchel and rested upon a fallen log. Looking over a well-worn tattered map, she used her finger to trace along the path. Looking up she heard the croak of a frog and knew she had to be near water. Good thing for her flask was nearly empty. Finishing the bite she had in her hand she ambled off in search of water. Could it be one and the same? Scenting the air after a time, she reached it only to discover stale water sitting on the surface. Green slime and algae floated along and her nose turned up. This was no good… Keely would have to press ahead; the healing waters were here… She only had to find it….
The humidity was intense and as Keely went further along into the dark wood it seemed as if to swallow her whole. Sweeping back her forelock with a grimy mud-caked hand she leaned against a tree struggling to catch her breath. The sun was beating down but aside from a few rays littering the path before her, the forest was all but cast in shadow.
She’d taken acorn seeds with her to help keep her going in the right direction. Just a few feet ahead she spied one of her acorns and frowned. Walking towards it, she bent down to pick it up and sniffed to be certain. It carried the scent of lavender and she knew that for the past several hours she had been walking in a very big circle. Her temper started to flare; collecting the acorn she tossed it into the satchel and unrolled the map yet again. In silence she thought…. “I should be right up on it… if my calculations are correct it’s here… “
Glancing around she made a mental note that nothing looked familiar. Sighing heavily, she leaned against the tree and chewed on the inside of her cheek deep in thought.
No this wouldn’t do. Removing the cloak, she wrapped it and folded it before putting it into the satchel and re-adjusted the weight on her shoulder. The crown style braid she wore her hair had loose wispy tendrils framing her face. It looked dingy and dirty from the heavy pomade she used as well as the grime and sweat of the journey. Absently she reached up to scratch at the nape of her neck in bitter frustration. Glancing down at the black beneath her fingernails she shook her head in dismay. She wanted a bath and a comfortable place to rest, free from the bugs and sickening heat but she would have neither it would seem.
Pushing off from the resting place, she ventured further in. Dropping an acorn here, counting silently she would drop another. Her stomach started to growl and she winced. Her provisions were limited. A few more hours and she fell to her knees before a rumbling creek and silently thanked mother earth for her respite. It wasn’t the healing waters but it would provide clean drinking water and as she watched the circles bead up on the surface she knew it contained fish. She rolled up the men’s dingy breeches she was wearing and waded in. The water felt so cool and refreshing. She bent down and scooped sand from the bottom in an effort to wash her hands before cupping some and drinking. She had to be careful, if she drank too much it could further sour her stomach. After many minutes she proceeded to wash her face and then without regard she waded in further, clothing and all, and got wet. She was careful to keep her hair dry.
She stood in the waters a long moment before finally wading out to collect a stick. The sharp snap seemed to echo through the forest and Keely looked around worriedly for a long moment. Nothing seemed to change and so she started to relax. It wasn’t long and she was fishing with her makeshift pole, and before long she stabbed a trout with the sharp end and tossed it onto the bank before wading out.
As the sun started to set and with Keely’s clothing now dry, she made a makeshift fire and grilled the fish she’d caught. It was plain but good. After such a long tiring day, Keely’s form stretched out beside the fire, she dozed heavily. Little wisps of smoke curled up and the glow of amber firelight slowly crackled.
The birds chirping high in the forest trees awakened Keely from the clutches of sleep the next morning. Sitting up she turned her neck and moaned softly in pain, she’d slept on it wrong and thus began the task of massaging the kink as she gathered her satchel together. The fire had died out sometime in the night so there was nothing left to extinguish. She yawned and stretched before padding over to the creek barefoot and bent down to refill her flask.
It wasn’t long and the satchel was slung back low on her shoulder and the worn-out boots were back on her feet. Her neck still sore she rubbed at it as she ventured further into the forest in search of the healing waters.
Notice: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the authors imaginations or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Somewhere in the seven valleys nestled in-between two rival territories there lay a fortress of dense brush, nettle and crooked woods. Beyond that was the cluster of Draeyth Mountains better known as the Telestic Precipice. Between the clans it was called many a name but the place was one and the same.
Keely Greyson had travelled a fortnight to reach this place. Shrugging on the withering cloak of night, she slid from the stolen mount and gave its rump a good slap to get the mare to gallop away. She looked after the animal a long moment mouthing a silent prayer for its safe return.
Then turning back she looked about her and eyed the dense forest muttering something in an old forgotten tongue. She took one wary step after another maneuvering the thick vines and log that impeded her path. After several hours she stopped and pulled a strip of dried meat from her satchel and rested upon a fallen log. Looking over a well-worn tattered map, she used her finger to trace along the path. Looking up she heard the croak of a frog and knew she had to be near water. Good thing for her flask was nearly empty. Finishing the bite she had in her hand she ambled off in search of water. Could it be one and the same? Scenting the air after a time, she reached it only to discover stale water sitting on the surface. Green slime and algae floated along and her nose turned up. This was no good… Keely would have to press ahead; the healing waters were here… She only had to find it….
The humidity was intense and as Keely went further along into the dark wood it seemed as if to swallow her whole. Sweeping back her forelock with a grimy mud-caked hand she leaned against a tree struggling to catch her breath. The sun was beating down but aside from a few rays littering the path before her, the forest was all but cast in shadow.
She’d taken acorn seeds with her to help keep her going in the right direction. Just a few feet ahead she spied one of her acorns and frowned. Walking towards it, she bent down to pick it up and sniffed to be certain. It carried the scent of lavender and she knew that for the past several hours she had been walking in a very big circle. Her temper started to flare; collecting the acorn she tossed it into the satchel and unrolled the map yet again. In silence she thought…. “I should be right up on it… if my calculations are correct it’s here… “
Glancing around she made a mental note that nothing looked familiar. Sighing heavily, she leaned against the tree and chewed on the inside of her cheek deep in thought.
No this wouldn’t do. Removing the cloak, she wrapped it and folded it before putting it into the satchel and re-adjusted the weight on her shoulder. The crown style braid she wore her hair had loose wispy tendrils framing her face. It looked dingy and dirty from the heavy pomade she used as well as the grime and sweat of the journey. Absently she reached up to scratch at the nape of her neck in bitter frustration. Glancing down at the black beneath her fingernails she shook her head in dismay. She wanted a bath and a comfortable place to rest, free from the bugs and sickening heat but she would have neither it would seem.
Pushing off from the resting place, she ventured further in. Dropping an acorn here, counting silently she would drop another. Her stomach started to growl and she winced. Her provisions were limited. A few more hours and she fell to her knees before a rumbling creek and silently thanked mother earth for her respite. It wasn’t the healing waters but it would provide clean drinking water and as she watched the circles bead up on the surface she knew it contained fish. She rolled up the men’s dingy breeches she was wearing and waded in. The water felt so cool and refreshing. She bent down and scooped sand from the bottom in an effort to wash her hands before cupping some and drinking. She had to be careful, if she drank too much it could further sour her stomach. After many minutes she proceeded to wash her face and then without regard she waded in further, clothing and all, and got wet. She was careful to keep her hair dry.
She stood in the waters a long moment before finally wading out to collect a stick. The sharp snap seemed to echo through the forest and Keely looked around worriedly for a long moment. Nothing seemed to change and so she started to relax. It wasn’t long and she was fishing with her makeshift pole, and before long she stabbed a trout with the sharp end and tossed it onto the bank before wading out.
As the sun started to set and with Keely’s clothing now dry, she made a makeshift fire and grilled the fish she’d caught. It was plain but good. After such a long tiring day, Keely’s form stretched out beside the fire, she dozed heavily. Little wisps of smoke curled up and the glow of amber firelight slowly crackled.
The birds chirping high in the forest trees awakened Keely from the clutches of sleep the next morning. Sitting up she turned her neck and moaned softly in pain, she’d slept on it wrong and thus began the task of massaging the kink as she gathered her satchel together. The fire had died out sometime in the night so there was nothing left to extinguish. She yawned and stretched before padding over to the creek barefoot and bent down to refill her flask.
It wasn’t long and the satchel was slung back low on her shoulder and the worn-out boots were back on her feet. Her neck still sore she rubbed at it as she ventured further into the forest in search of the healing waters.
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