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Resurrected as a Drow 2 Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2022-01-08 20:05:35 +0000 UTCHey guys, I'm really behind on this novel that's supposed to come out next week. I ended up taking too much time off over the holidays. I'm worried that I might miss the deadline, but I'm going to try to hit it. I'll know how close I am by Monday.
Stealth.
Being a drow was all about it.
I was coming to realize this now that I had a moment to myself to reflect and do some personal inventory.
After manifesting into this world through a last ditch Summoning Ritual, it felt as if I barely had a chance to assess my ass from my elbow, lately.
Not many had a christening into the world quite like mine in which I was responsible for helping the sole survivors of a ruined Claden’Du-- the Warriors of the Void-- claw their way back from almost certain extinction. From its inception, my existence had been a constant whirlwind of evading House Ozin-Na, making a pact possible between two estranged allies, and finally infiltrating my House’s enemy all to prove myself worthy of the Claden’Du name.
But after I’d slain the Matron Mother, Daria Ozin-Na, a week ago, I found myself laid up in recovery with enough time to truly take stock of everything.
Too bad all of that evaluation only took about a day or two, tops, to process, and by the middle of the week, I’d grown too restless for my own skin, much less the poor nursemaids who were tasked with trying to keep me in bed.
I didn’t feel too bad about taking a break, since I basically promised them all I would be on my best behavior after the way I woke up the first time directly following my fight with Daria.
In order to get the edge on the clever and ruthless Matron Mother, I had to put her in a position where she was completely distracted by the fact people were breaking into her part of the Noble Tower.
Fortunately, I was able to fake being her Second Daughter out for revenge with Madame Drindessa’s magical body changing potion, and I ended up tricking her into a formal Challenge between Daughter and Mother.
Unfortunately, it worked too well because it even fooled Daria’s Magic into accepting the sacredness of the rite to the point of trying to Transfer her culminated priestess Knowledge into a vessel incapable of bearing such magic.
That vessel was me.
And yeah, it baaaaaasically tore me up inside and out.
Almost quite literally.
However, I must have been a fast healer, even by drow standards, because despite my keepers’ arguments, I really did feel fine by like the second solid day of bed rest, and by day three, I’d already plotted six ways to escape, and two included the maximum amount of ensured silence from anyone who stood in my way.
Death.
Meaning death.
Or at the very least, horrible maiming.
And that was a little darker than I liked my morning mushroom tea, thanks.
So, to prevent any insanity and/or pointless loss of life, I set my busy mind to the task of engineering not only an escape, but to a stealthy, soundless re-entry back into my sickroom without anyone noticing I’d escaped in the first place.
This was the true challenge, and something complex and difficult enough to keep me from eating my pillow out of sheer boredom, and by the fourth day, I had perfected the routine.
On the sixth day after my usual morning elixirs, and after the general fussing by a pair of fae healer women was done with, I slipped out of the corridor in my cloak under the “Invisible” Command Word, and then I put my light footed drow prowess to work.
This body was really a compendium of lithe, yet strong muscles wrapped around nearly weightless bones. That, combined with my sharp senses of sight and sound, meant my dexterity was unparalleled.
I was also really adept at tactics that required a lot of spatial planning, which basically was to say, I was really good at climbing and jumping off things.
So, every day when I was left to my own devices, I would take the chance to familiarize myself with the Twenty Seventh level of the Tower without anyone’s knowledge, and I took it upon myself to gather my own intel about the goings on since I’d been out of commission.
Apparently, most of the meetings between the Matron Mother Sevahtra and her new kin-Matron Drindessa Bahna’Faar discussed how the “clean up” of Ozin-Na was going, and how they might possibly start to dig out Claden’Du from its caved-in state.
One of the biggest issues seemed to be getting at Sevahtra’s buried vaults, especially because Daria’s vaults had yet to be discovered.
Which was apparently odd, but most of the meetings I was able to drop in on from the back of a room, or one time on the high window sill from an egress platform, required I spend a minimal amount of time in one place unless I wanted to be Sensed by the two high level priestesses.
Fespius the hobgoblin was the one who surprisingly gave me this little bit of advice when he busted me around the fourth day or so hightailing it back to my room when the paranoid Drindessa sent a wave of darkness out from where it encompassed her and Sevahtra, and I nearly made myself sick with almost getting caught by the furious women. He said he would take the blame for me that time because he claimed it had been a while since “Mistress” punished him, and he missed it now that she was so busy, but after that I made sure not to blow my own cover again.
Ever since, I’d only dipped in here or there for brief snatches of the Matrons’ conversations before I moved off to spy on my favorite Claden’Du sisters.
Usually, the First and Second Daughters could be found around each other in one way or another. Either they were putting their heads together on some task, like the rest of the body disposal detail, or they were bickering about something or other.
Or most likely, both, because Hel and Dag in the same room for any amount of time were bound to devolve into some random or petty argument just for argument’s sake sometimes.
It was entertaining, but as fun as it was to watch the two catty twins go at it, their younger sibling, Tryss, was the one I was always so eager to catch up with.
From that first daring escape, and every day hence, I had made it a game to get the Third Daughter off on her own somehow so I could have my wicked way with her in the lewdest of ways in the oddest of places.
Mostly because not only was I pent the fuck up with energy, but so was she from having to share our space with Drindessa’s Daughters, the Bahna’Faar Blessed Eights.
The identical twins were also the same twins I’d impregnated through the pact between the two houses, and during the time, Bahna’Faar desperately needed to continue their line and Claden’Du desperately needed Bahna’Faar’s reinforcements to even have a fighting chance against Ozin-Na.
The link which made this alliance amenable for all parties was me and my “assets” as Dagwyn so aptly put it, and after I’d done The Deed and given Drindessa grandchildren, the twins had gone back to run the Madame’s Brothel in the underbelly of Oshara where they could prepare to move to her safe house near the Tower.
At first, I was concerned they were leaving before I was fully out of bed to escort them because they were carrying my young, after all, but Sevahtra assured me nothing was more lethal than a pregnant drow priestess, and if anything, Tasi and Eli were the true threats just by walking the streets. Apparently, a pregnant priestess’ magic increased exponentially in order to protect the offspring, and it had a tendency to lash out at the slightest perceived threat.
According to the ever knowledgeable Helera, sometimes even the fathers would lose their lives if they got too close to the pregnant Mothers.
This assuaged my concerns, especially in my still-delirious state where I was operating mostly on instincts gone haywire, but I’d picked up pretty quickly that Tryss was grappling with her own instincts which screamed at her and demanded no one but her should be filled with my seed.
She was rational and mature enough to realize the situation, but it didn’t mean it still didn’t suck for her, and when I had secured my temporary snatches of freedom out of my sick room, I made sure to let her know just whose child she was going to bear.
Today, after failing to eavesdrop on any Matron Mothers, and not having the patience or the attention span to listen to Dag and Hel’s bickering, I went straight to the punch and tracked the Third Daughter of Claden’Du down in the store room at the top of the giant planetary calendar where one of the celestial stained glass bodies made the perfect little attic space for storing the old purple and white Ozin-Na cloaks like she was doing now.
The diffuse light pouring in through the blue, green, and purple windows caused an effect similar to being underwater, and the flickering shadows were prone to playing tricks on the eyes. This allowed me to hide among the towering crates without the need to activate my cloak’s invisibility.
Which was a good thing because I’d noticed lately “invisible” was starting to just become a clear shape with a vague outline. This still worked if I stood absolutely still, but I noticed movement was starting to become more noticeable with every passing day.
No matter, though, because I was the epitome of stealth on two legs, and even my footfalls were deadly silent, so when I finally came up behind Tryss, she was completely unaware and unprepared.
“Oh! Fynn!” she gasped when I wrapped my arms around her and pressed our bodies flush with my front to her back. “You are getting so good at that.”
“I couldn’t wait to see you today so I hunted you down early,” I rumbled into her long sensitive ear and delighted in the full body shiver I could feel against my body. The semi-hard erection I’d been half sporting all morning at the thought of the scent and feel of her swelled to full mast now that I had the real her in my arms.
“I see that,” the sexy drow priestess purred as she ground her barely clothed ass along the ridge of my cock.
I groaned deep in my chest and gripped her hips so I could thrust against her even harder due to her lusty antics.
“My, my, so impatient.”
“You’re one to talk,” I grunted as I reached around her and pulled aside the leather g-string she was wearing so I could dip my fingers inside her wet pussy. “You’re soaking. And what’s this little number you’ve worn for me today? I definitely don’t remember seeing this among your typical wardrobe.”
The outfit in question was an ensemble consisting of a skin tight halter top followed by said matching black g-string, and both garments possessed the barest amount of material possible to still be called clothes. Both were bedecked with the finest diamonds and amethysts, and sprouting from the pointed hips of the skimpy bottoms was a panel of black sheer satin that acted like an elegant train on the back of a gown.
It was almost as appetizing as what was hiding underneath, and I relished the way she curved back into the shape of me until her head of soft white hair was against my shoulder as I continued to run my fingers through her slick and around her tender opening.
“Oohhh, Fynn, I was h-hoping you would find me here today,” she stuttered and thrust her pelvis back against my erection when I got to her engorged little rosebud. “I was pl-planning on staying all d-day if I needed to.”
“Naughty,” I growled before I nibbled on the shell of her long ear. Her thighs trembled, and I could feel her lower belly flutter under the palm I was using to hold her tightly against me while I trapped her clit between the V of my first two fingers. “Does my lover like to fuck in all these hidden places? Does it cause your juices to flow?”
“Hhhrrrmmm,” she hummed and purred at the same time. This little ecstatic noise of hers was something I’d noticed most of the aroused drow females made on occasion, and I made it my personal goal in life to wring it out of Tryss in particular every chance I got.
For one, it caused my cock to twitch and pulse just by hearing it, but for two, Tryss’s lovely lavender complexion also deepened a shade or two every time, and when she panted, the swell of those blushing breasts was so delicious, I felt myself start to leak.
“Turn around, I need to taste you,” I demanded as I took my sopping wet hand away from her pussy.
She whined, and when she moved too slow for my liking, I took matters into my own hands, whipped her around, and hiked her up so her ass was resting on one of the closed storage crates.
Then I dropped to my knees, placed one of her sandal clad feet to rest on one of my broad shoulders while I held her hips, moved the panel of her g-string aside, and feasted on my prize.
“Ah--!” Tryss jammed a fist into her mouth to keep from screaming out because the chances of this glass chamber being soundproof were low. “Unf!”
I grinned internally, and I felt the muscles in her legs tense and relax as I laved my tongue along her moist folds and around the delicate pearl of her pleasure. By the time I wriggled my tongue deep inside her grasping channel, my chin was dripping with her delicious essence.
Goddess, she was getting stronger these days as she basically “grew into her nature” according to Sevahtra, but all that meant for me was the mere memory of her glorious scent and slick sweet nectar was enough to drive me mad. It was also adding to the restlessness I experienced being kept away from her every night, and in the back of my mind, I knew even these fun little trysts weren’t going to satisfy me forever.
For now, though, I turned my sole attention to making Tryss a gibbering mess as I used not only my mouth, but the pad of my thumb where she most wanted it so she would finally come.
And come she did.
Hard.
Drogu’s tit’s it was sexy, and I couldn’t help but finally free my throbbing cock from the confines of my pants so I could give it a much needed stroke.
Fucking Void, Tryss’ muscles clenched until my tongue was forced out, and when I attempted to force it back inside, I was rewarded with a strong kick of her pelvis as she gripped the back of my head.
With my hands, I moved her hips and encouraged her to hump my face as I worked her through one climax and then straight into a second one that had her squealing from the intensity.
“Off,” I ordered when I pulled my face away and then tugged the diamond studded g-string until it fell to the floor.
Tryss was still coming down from the aftershocks of her second orgasm, and before she could get her bearings, I spun her around again, bent her over the storage crate, and rammed my cock home in one brutal thrust.
“Hhiiik--!” The sharp inhalation of air caught in Tryss’ throat, and as I started to mercilessly pound into her slick pussy, it was all she could do to hold on. “Oh, oh, uh, uh!”
“Yeeessss,” I growled like some dark apex predator, and I slammed all the way in so I could grind as deeply as possible. “You like that, woman?”
“M-More, give me-- ugh!”
I kicked open her legs just a fraction wider, and something about the angle made her clench every time I pushed in.
“Oooh, is that your sweet spot, hm?” I asked as I slammed my hips into the back of her ass.
“H-H-Harder!” she wailed and pushed herself up on her tiptoes. “I want you to c-come inside meeeee!”
“Fuuuck!” I groaned as I slammed us together for the last time and unloaded all of my essence inside her womb.
“Yes, Fynn, uhh…” She shook as a third smaller climax crested through her wrung out body, and my cock finished squirting out its copious amount of fluid. “Ohhh, lover. I cannot wait until my time comes and you can impregnate me for real.”
I groaned again as my flagging erection gave a slightly interested twitch at her words, but I was too spent to entertain thoughts of a round two, and I carefully pulled out.
“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” I asked as I used some discarded cloth and gently wiped us both clean of all of our activities while she enjoyed her bit of afterglow still draped over the crate.
“You always ask that, and it’s the cutest thing,” Tryss giggled like she was a little punch-drunk after three orgasms, and then she straightened up so she could loop her arms around my neck. “Lover, you were exactly how I wanted you.”
“Well, I am nothing if not considerate,” I remarked as I held up the little g-string with the satin train attached.
“That you are,” she giggled again and slipped the scanty bottoms back on.
“I don’t even know why you bother, it’s not like it leaves anything to the imagination,” I teased and then pinched the right cheek of her perfect ass hard enough to add another mark to the plethora of little fingertip bruises already scattered over her hips and thighs.
“Oh, you,” she laughed and swatted my pinching fingers away until I was basically chasing her around the storage area like we were children.
She eventually tried to give me the slip by exiting the chamber, but I was in hot pursuit and following so close behind, I slammed into her when she abruptly stopped in her tracks.
“Ahem.” the Matron Mother of Claden’Du stood in front of us with her arms crossed over her ample chest and a singular flaxen eyebrow arched high on her dark magenta face.
“M-Mother!” Tryss gasped in shock and then flushed a pretty hue out of shame at being caught in an indelicate position only moments ago.
Because there was no way Mother didn’t hear what we were up to.
“Something funny, va-ulsen?” Sevahtra asked me, and my smug grin dropped immediately off my face.
Uh-oh.
I knew when she called me “her son” in the Old Language, I needed to check myself.
“Not at all, Mother,” I said with the appropriate amount of deference, and I even kept my eyes lowered in respect.
“Hm, well, since you obviously have enough energy for such… vigorous activities, then you must be well enough to be out and about,” Sevahtra said.
“Thank you,” I groaned as I threw my head back dramatically. “I’ve been trying to tell everyone that for days--”
“Which also obviously means you must commence with your studies at once,” she said.
“Studies?” I faltered, and the strange half-memories of sitting in an uncomfortable desk choking on the dust from ancient tomes flickered across my mind. “Oh… uh… ow. You know? I’m still feeling… yeah. Maybe I pulled something. Or, something.”
“Nice try, but you’re with me,” the Matron Mother huffed and crooked her finger in a way that meant I better do what she said. “And Tryss, I know you did not complete your chores. Quit prancing around in Daria’s wardrobe and organize the store room. I want there to be a clear system if any of us need to outfit ourselves in Ozin-Na colors. After all, if Fynn can act like a spy so effectively, then we can occasionally employ the tactic with our own spies.”
Tryss’ eyes widened in interest, and I could tell her clever brain was already setting her mind to the task the Matron Mother had set for her, but then she shook her head a little like she realized she was being tricked.
“Ugh, that’s so boring,” she huffed. “I want to watch what you and Fynn are doing.”
“And distract him? I don’t think so, you feral hussy,” Sevahtra said and poked her Daughter in the bejeweled bellybutton where a glittering amethyst rested.
I was apparently distracted by her other “jewel” a little further south because the gaudy ornament completely evaded my notice the first time around.
“M-Mother!” Tryss giggled and then danced away as if the scathing insult was more of a cuddly endearment, but the priestess used her Magic to conjure a long feather to tickle her sides. “Ah! Stop it!”
“If you are dissatisfied, I suppose you can help Helera and Dagwyn with corpse removal,” the Matron Mother deadpanned.
“N-No! I’ll organize the store room, st-stooop!” Tryss tried to avoid the feather until she could do nothing but actually teleport away from the instrument of her torture. “Gah! Happy?”
The younger female panted as she hunched over her knees while the Matron Mother disappeared her weapon of choice.
“If you honestly think I am ‘happy’ at that display, then maybe I will Conjure a venomous snake to get you to take your exercises more seriously,” she scolded. “So, as Punishment, you will accomplish your task completely by hand.”
“What--!” Tryss startled like she was slapped, but instead of a physical backhand, the smack was from a magical band of light snapping around her upper arm like a cuff. “Awww! I hate being grounded.”
“What does that mean?” I asked as I tracked my eyes between the two women.
“A task-sensitive binding cuff, that’s all,” Sevahtra said with a shrug, and this time when she crooked her finger again, I went to her side immediately.
“She used to do this all the time when I was a kid,” Tryss pouted as she glared down at the band of light. “It binds me from using magic until I accomplish a specific task, and it’s so annoying.”
I was still learning about the particulars of drow society and magic as a whole, but I knew I had an intrinsic mistrust of the concept of being bound. Technically, as a male, I was already a lower-class citizen on the whole, and for this reason, I was supposed to be bound similarly to the will of whoever I belonged to.
But fuck that noise.
Something in me raised its hackles at the notion, and the fact I was an unbound male was a bit of an open secret.
I just hoped that wouldn’t change any time soon, because I already had potentially more than one soul on the inside of this body. The two warring halves within me kept me at a constant battle for harmony, and I didn’t know if adding someone else’s will inside of this vessel was a good idea.
“And temporary, mind,” Mother continued to argue with her Daughter, and it was clear by her tone that she was nearing the end of her patience. “But this can be remedied, Tryskaylan. Don’t push me.”
“Yes, Mother,” Tryss said and eased off for good this time. “I’ll make the storage area the best spy wardrobe ever, I already have so many ideas.”
“I’m sure you do, brat,” the Matron Mother said even though she was repressing a smirk, and we both watched Tryss flounce back toward the spherical storage room. Then the austere priestess turned on her heel and marched over to a gated archway at the end of the corridor, and I knew I was meant to follow.
However, she was leading me toward something I knew as a levi-shaft, one of many vertical channels usually built into the Nobel Tower for people to travel up and down so the stairs were reserved for the lower servants Mother called “chattel.”
Just because all drow were born with the magical source in their souls called ether it didn’t mean magical servants or slaves like me were permitted to use the shafts all pell-mell. No, those “unbound” privileges had to be earned, and even though I may have been her first-slash-only Son in Claden’Du House, I hadn’t exactly learned much when it came to using my own Magic.
Even the strange undefined Light Powers that seemed unique to only me were something I understood very little of despite how useful that trick was on occasion.
So, when Sevahtra magicked open the gate to the levi-shaft, my steps faltered.
“We’re going up?” I asked on the off chance we would actually be going down, and I could just use my cloak’s Command Word and just “freefall” downward because I knew how to do that.
The Matron Mother, however, picked up on my trepidation like she did on so many other things and beckoned me to her side.
“The key is not to try to force your levitation upward,” Sevahtra explained as she held her hand over the opening of the long dark shaft. “We are drow, not fae with wings, after all. We do not have the ability of flight.”
“So, what do we do instead?” I asked and copied her behavior. I could feel a current of breeze flowing up from below when I put my hand out next to hers.
“When you ‘reach’ for your ether, imagine that the force field of weightlessness extends outside of where it envelops your own body,” she said and then brought her hands together so she could form an iridescent sphere in the faintest shade of magenta. “Try this first so you can create your levitation field.”
To demonstrate, she stretched the sphere by pulling her hands apart and then pushed them together again so I could see how she was able to manipulate the size of the bubble, and I tried to imitate what she was doing, but I felt a little silly when it only looked like I was just aimlessly moving my hands in and out.
But the Matron Mother was endlessly patient if not very forthcoming with her instructions on just how, exactly, I was meant to copy her.
By now, however, I was used to Sevahtra’s particular brand of sink-or-swim education and knew I would be met with more of the same if I were to ask any questions, so I took advantage of her patience and attempted to muddle through.
When Tryss walked me through using levitation before, she also combined her Magic with mine-- which was super against the rules-- so I wasn’t really sure if I remembered what “reaching for my ether” felt like.
But I persevered, and after a few minor corrections of my form from Mother, I suddenly felt… something.
“Woah,” I said when a faint silver bubble flickered to life between my palms.
“Good, you feel it, yes?” she asked and widened her sphere of ether until her whole body was inside.
“I think so…” I said as I concentrated on keeping my little light bauble going.
If I strained hard enough, I could tell where the epicenter of my Magic sat like a pool of water just behind my gut and nestled against my spine. With enough application, I could siphon out a thin stream through focus and force of will, and it was this stream I kept drawing out and wrapping it around the small point of light.
“Not too much, va-ulsen,” Sevahtra chuckled and then used her thumb to smooth the furious frown buckling my brow. “You want your sphere of levitation to be strong, yes, but weightless and flexible. Less is more.”
Then she pushed up on her toes so she was hovering above the ground as if she weighed nothing.
“Less is more…” I repeated and worked on just stretching what I had in my hands until I think I understood how to wrap it around myself like she did. “Hah!”
“Excellent,” she said. “Now, get yourself to the Temple, and do not keep me waiting. You know how I hate that.”
Then with a nifty little twist, the Matron Mother levitated herself into the levi-shaft and disappeared.
Fuck.
And here I was with my feet still on the floor.
This wasn’t even the formal training part yet, and I could tell Mother was going to give me a run for my money.
