Chapter Fifty-one

CONTENT ADVISORY / TRIGGER WARNING

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS DEPICTIONS/STRONG IMPLICATIONS OF THE FOLLOWING THAT SOME READERS MAY FIND OFFENSIVE OR DISTURBING:

~ CRUDE HUMOR/LANGUAGE

~ PROFANITY

~ SEX AND INTIMACY

Eskil sat in the chair for most of the evening, getting up occasionally to stretch his aching body and to harass Libelle as she wrote in a leather bound book. His presence while she was writing seemed to both distract and frustrate her, and she'd swat her hand at him if he leaned too far over her shoulder.

She had left the room once and returned with large bowls filled with savory stew. Reluctantly, she had given him one and both ate in silence, enjoying the soft meat, fresh potatoes, and carrots of the salty broth. She returned to her leather book shortly after, staying nose deep until the room was dark, the only light being that of a single candle stick. She sighed heavily as she glanced at the half-burned candle, opened a drawer to retrieve a fresh one, lit it and placed it on another stand.

She closed the book and twisted leather straps around the pages before stretching her arms towards the ceiling. She had dark circles under her eyes, darker than they had been earlier in the afternoon. Despite her earlier rest, she didn't feel or look any more refreshed. Standing up, she kicked off her slippers before lifting the green quilted blanket that covered the feather-stuffed mattress. She didn't say anything to Eskil as he watched her slide under the blanket and roll onto her side to face the wall.

He waited, the candlelight flickering in his eyes as he listened to her breathing slow and deepen. She had fallen asleep, but he didn't dare move until she was in a deeper sleep. The blankets rose and fell with each breath, and her body twitched at random moments as her mind settled into a deep slumber.

An hour later she rolled onto her back, one hand settling across her chest and the other near her cheek. The blankets moved with her, twisting and shifting around her waist.

Eskil stood up, stepping lightly across the room to avoid the creaking floorboards he had found earlier. He stopped at the edge of the bed and stared down at her. She looked peaceful in her sleep; the stress in her expression was gone, and she finally seemed to be relaxed in her dreamland. He lowered himself onto the bed, sitting next to her before lightly stroking her cheek and brushing her blonde hair from her face. A light and drowsy moan escaped her lips, and her head turned away from his touch as his fingers tickled her skin.

"Libelle," he whispered, his words rough on his lips. "None of this makes sense to me. Here I am, stuck in the form of a pathetic mortal at your mercy, and I couldn't be happier. I have not had this much pleasure in anyone's company for over a thousand years, and it makes no sense to me. I hate you, but the longer I am by your side the more I grow to like you."

He sighed heavily, cupping her cheek in his hand and rubbing his calloused thumb over her lower lip. He lowered himself over her and pressed his lips against her forehead. "Good night, my little elf."

Slowly pushing himself up from the soft mattress, he turned and walked towards the door. Opening it as quietly as he could, he slipped out into the empty and dark hallway. He walked towards the railing, bending at his waist and resting his forearms on the aged oak banister. Another heavy sigh as his head sagged, his thoughts fleeing around rampantly in his mind. He didn't understand the feelings and emotions Libelle was causing him, and the only answer he had to the cursed sentiments was the damned spell she had cast over him. It was the only conclusion he could attempt to make sense of. That, or he was losing his mind.

He groaned and rubbed his temples as he closed his eyes and mulled over his thoughts. The inn was dark, and all of the tenants had turned in for the night and returned to their individual rooms. The foyer that had been lit with a large fire was now black and eerie, and a mouse could be heard scurrying across the floor boards. He rested his head on his arms and stood there silently, waiting for time to pass by.

"Ah!"

Eskil's eyes shot open as he heard an unfamiliar noise. He raised his head and looked around the second floor. Despite the blackness of the inn, his dragon-like eyes could still pierce the darkness. He didn't see anything, but then he heard the same high-pitched noise again. He leaned over the railing and looked down onto the main floor, glancing up and down the rows of tables. Nothing.

The noise echoed again, so he looked towards the innkeeper's desk at the far end of the room. Leaning back against the counter was the young working girl, her blouse wide open to expose her small breasts, and her skirt pulled up over her legs. She was holding the material of her skirt, and her chest was rising and falling as she panted with another high-pitched gasp. He squinted his eyes when he saw the middle-aged innkeeper kneeling before her, his head level with her pelvis. He watched as the man used his tongue and fingers to toy with the spot between her legs. Exciting, squeaky gasps and moans continued from the girl.

He felt a knot form in his stomach as a wave of realization hit him about what they were doing. They were mating. Loudly. In an area where anyone could spy upon them just like he was doing. He sighed again and pushed himself up from the railing. Turning around to return to the room, he heard the girl's lusty moan and curiosity, sadly, got the best of him. He didn't know how mortals mated, but he wanted to know how the act was carried out. It's not like he wanted to mate with Libelle, but if the opportunity presented itself, he wasn't entirely sure that he would decline. After all, he wouldn't want to humiliate her in such a manner.

He stood behind a wooden beam and hid in the shadows of the already dark room as he stared down at the couple. The man had lifted the girl onto the counter, and her back was bending at an awkward angle as the man's fingers moved between her legs. She cried out as the man dropped his pants around his ankles and slammed his pelvis against hers. Another moan. His hips moved back and forth for a few seconds before he groaned and collapsed on her chest with short, quick breaths.

Eskil snorted. If this is how the mortals fuck, I want no part of it.

He turned on his heels and slipped back into the room where Libelle was still sleeping. He returned to the chair he had spent most of the evening in, rested his back against the soft material, closed his eyes and tried to rest, but his mind was awake and his thoughts were moving in circles. There was a flash of lightning, followed by a loud rumble of thunder and the rain started to batter against the roof when the wind picked up speed. Outside it was howling with a torrential downpour, while in here it was relatively peaceful and warm.

He sighed and rested his head back as he stared at the ceiling.

Sleep. He needed to sleep.