After another night of Mae goading me into drinking way too much, I wake up with a dry throat and terrible headache, Alyx pounding on my door.
“Hattie! Hattie! Haaaaattie!
I moan and cover my head with the pillow. I’ll get up for Mae.
“Hattie! Don’t make me bust the door down.”
Oracle leaps to her feet with a growl, pacing over to my bed with her eyes always on the door. “It’s alright,” I mumble, but she snaps when the door judders. “Stop!” I yell, forcing myself up.
Alyx is waiting outside with a huge grin on her face and a joint in her hand. “Hattie!” she cries, hugging me and forcing me out of the room, Oracle snapping at our heels.
“What’s gotten into you?”
“It’s the Parade! Been looking forward to the Parade since I heard about it.”
“Two days ago?”
“Yeah, two days ago. Now let’s get over there and score some good seats.”
“Alyx, I’m in my underwear.” A new light blue set from Indel (you’d think I would have learned my lesson, but damnit if the clothes the girl gives me aren’t nice).
She blinks, seems to notice for the first time, and laughs. “You’re so enchanting you hardly notice anything’s wrong.”
“Stop it. We’re rivals.”
“No, not today. Today we’re all spectating together in the spirit of love and peace. Ceasefire! Ceasefire!”
A mote of yellow light hits my chest, and suddenly this is all a lot easier to deal with; hell, without the hangover Alyx is almost charming.
Mae bounds down the hallway as irresistible as ever. “You better get your uniform on!”
“Exactly,” Alyx says. “We gotta be front row on this thing or we’re fucked.”
After I’m dressed in my new uniform, also from Indel, the three of us are on our way (Alyx puts an arm around Mae’s shoulder, so of course so do I), and I turn my head to Alyx. “Why are you so excited about this thing anyway? You’re usually borderline-treasonous about monarchy.”
“This is about pure spectacle, my friend. Pageantry, performance, passion. That’s what I want to see.”
“Oh,” Mae says. “You want to fuck them.”
“Well, if one catches my eye-”
“No,” I cut in. “You want to fuck a Princess so you can say you’ve done it.”
“Oh please, if I were that desperate to catch up to you I’d just make it happen with Indel.”
“Hah! You’re not her type.”
“Well, maybe I don’t have those big orcish biceps, but I can drag a girl around with the best of them. You know that.”
“Girls, please.” Mae stops us both. “We have a big day ahead of us and I just can’t be worked up the whole time.”
Well, she is right.
With the ceasefire enforced by menacing warning slashes from her letter opener, we make our way to the stands.
Even with Alyx rushing us, we aren’t the first to arrive — Katarina stands at the very front, leaning against the chest-high fence, twirling her parasol over her shoulder. We take our spot a few metres down and the wineskin comes out shortly after.
“You sure you don’t wanna sit?” Behind us, the huge bleachers loom — there’s another set across the sparkly stonework, forming an artificial canyon around the runway.
“Nah, Hattie, we gotta be right here. Right up against the fence. That’s how we catch their eye. The vamp’s got the right idea.”
Mae takes the skin from Alyx and drinks deep. “And if your feet get tired, I’ll just fix them right up.”
It’s about two hours of standing and drinking before the stands are all filled and the first chariot appears, far off in the distance. A somewhat concerning start — the chariot’s an austere, functional thing, a square block of metal propelled by magic alone. It hits the runway with a thud and trundles down, a broad-shouldered Kothelli woman waving uncomfortably at the crowd. Her reptilian face is curled into a grimace, threatening with her black scales.
“Princess!” a voice behind us shouts.
“Citizen!” she calls back, in her thick accent.
“Princess! Princess!”
“Citizen!”
“Can you believe it?” Alyx says, wineskin back in hand. “They can’t even imagine a world without royals.”
Maybe that’s not such a bad thing!Maybe the world’s not half bad the way it is.
Even the total lack of ceremony to the Kothelli’s entrance can’t dull the excitement, though — all around us the crowd presses together, cheers, laughs, waves banners. And their joy doubles when the next arrival appears: a glacial thing, carved out of ice, drawn by eight enormous caribou.
From the carriage’s open top, an impossibly furred woman with tusks far bigger than mine waves and laughs. “Thank you all,” she booms above the din, “you honour me!”
“Far out,” Alyx says. “Her tits are bigger than yours.” Mae giggles and punches her arm. I laugh, a little bit, because the wine makes everything buzzy.
She must be the Princess of Croisan, the frigid kingdom to the north. Relations have been frosty ever since they lost Iceridge to the Empire. But you wouldn’t know it, watching the Princess, whose huge smile warms my heart and earns the whoops of the women behind me. “We love you, Princess!” one yells, and she calls back,
“I love you!”
“Oh shit, look!” Alyx points to a brightly coloured, pulsing dot in the distance. What seems the steady thud of war drums turns out to be, once the sound creeps closer, the rapid tempo bass of traditional Colbai music — it has a native name I’ve never been able to pronounce, but to the Empire it’s hoofbeat.
The hoofbeat blares and the lights flash to the rhythm, obscuring (for everyone but me! Alyx can summon servants, but I can see chariots) the fleet of Colbai carriages, huge whitewood carts filigreed in gold, silver, and bronze, all pulled by brightly coloured pegasai flying in formation. Along the outer wings are support carts mounted with arcane light projectors and floodlights, aimed towards the centre, where two soundcarts flank an enormous stage mounted on a cloud.
The cloud nestles onto the runway, so large and heavy that two dozen pegasai march before it. They rear their heads to the sky and bombard the crowd with excitement; my body responds, feet stomping along to the beat. Alyx whoops, spilling wine down her blouse.
A powerful voice booms from the soundcarts. “LADIES AND SUNDRY! The Kingdom of Colbai presents its favourite daughter; the Moon Dancer herself; She Who Trots On Stars; Fire, And Passion; the Barnborn Lady of Heavy Step; The Princess CORUSSSSSSSSSSSCANTER!”
Suddenly teleported onto the previously empty stage is the radiant, white furred Coruscanter, dressed in sparkly denim shorts and a mesh top that makes no effort to hide her perfect tits, two strips of black fabric arranged in an X over her nipples the only concession to modesty. The horse Princess bears a face befitting her station, beautiful and terrible.
“Welcome to the fucking party!” Behind her, a troop of equally gorgeous women appear, strutting about the stage and throwing things into the audience. A few rows behind us, up on the bleachers, the pigeon girl from Team Copper catches one — she holds it up, a white t-shirt emblazoned with Coruscanter’s personal sigil (a glittering ball flanked by two rearing horses).
“Princess, Princess!” Alyx calls, waving an arm wildly. Her other hand conjures a spread of six shots lined up along the railing. “Over here, Princess!”
And, as I’m blinking in stunned surprise, the Princess hops off the stage and dances over, my face filling with heat as her body vibrates towards us. Six of the backup dancers follow, and undulate around her as she leans against the fence. “Yes bitch!” she says, downing one. Alyx quickly downs the one on the opposite end. Both move one down. Coruscanter finishes her last shot, but Mae snatches Alyx’s away at the last second and swallows it herself. “Oh my God, you’re like, sooooo fun!” (The Colbai are monotheistic, I’m pretty sure — but the singular God doesn’t seem to fit my ear right). The Princess gives them both a quick peck on the forehead and returns to the stage.
“Holy shit!” Alyx shouts.
“Holy shit!” Mae agrees.
As the stage rolls on, the telepathically induced head-pounding excitement recedes, but the mood remains electric. The group next to us hassles Alyx for some shots, but she fobs them off with a wineskin.
There are only three visiting Princesses this year — in the best years, when the Empire’s at peace with all its neighbours, sometimes as many as seven come. Once there were eight. The rest of the parade is for the select few champions from other universities — there are plenty of inter-school events later in the year, but the Gauntlet is primarily for Vayal students. Mostly we use it as a way to poach, if you believe the chatter around campus. Soften them up with gifts, dazzle them with the Sky Dome, give them a good show with the Gauntlet, maybe you have a few dozen more students enrolled by the end.
“Alright, let’s get outta here,” Alyx says at last, a trailing slur to her words. “I’m uh, woof- I gotta lie down.”
“That’s soooooo true.” Mae, just as drunk, turns with her, eliminating any chance of me sticking around to watch the other schools arrive.
We press through the crowd, which eagerly fills our spots, and head out the narrow path between the bleachers. Alyx puts a hand across my stomach to slow me as Mae saunters ahead, oblivious. “Look at the way she sways her hips. Ridiculous.”
“You shouldn’t-” I begin, but it dies in my throat, because if anyone likes being leered at, it’s Mae. “Yeah. Ridiculous.”
“How are we to put up with a week of this?”
“The reward’s worth the wait.”
“Yeah, for me, maybe. But what’s getting you through it?”
“Alyx-”
As Mae abruptly turns off the path, into the gardens behind the bleachers, Alyx breaks into a sprint. I’m after her in a moment, as the shock wears off. I rip through a wall of vines, hastily conjured between a tree and one of the support struts. It closes up again behind me as I come upon Mae, hands against the bleachers and hips pushed out.
Behind her, Alyx whines and breathes in her ear. “Come on Mae. We’re all here. Let’s have some fun.”
“There’s a competition,” she says, but she doesn’t stop grinding her ass against the insistent deer.
“Fuck the competition. I’m tired of waiting.” She hikes her skirt up.
Mae turns to stare me in the eyes as she slowly rolls her stockings down, revealing a frankly ridiculous little thong, and it’s only then that I unfreeze, regain control of myself. In three long strides I’m there, moving Alyx back with one hand above her breasts and putting myself between them.
“There’s a competition,” I reiterate.
“Fuck the competition! Hattie, come on; you and me then.”
“Mae or nothing.” It’s not exactly how I’ve been living (I’ve tried), but it’s true Mae could have me entirely to herself if she wanted.
She adjusts herself behind me and steps forward with a smile, all cute and proper. “Here, since you’re so restless, Alyx, how about this: we’ll do a little Gauntlet pre-game. A point to anyone who can fuck a Princess before signups close tonight.”
Huh?
“What! That’s a free goal to Hattie!”
“Oh, I don’t know — I think you and Coruscanter had serious chemistry. Didn’t you think so, Hattie?”
I can’t tease like Mae, but Godsdamnit if I can’t play support. “When you did shots together?”
“Oh Gods, yes, Alyx, did you see that glint in her eyes? She’s into you.”
Alyx smooths her skirt down as best she can. “You gonna verify with my heartrate?”
“No — we’ll use Hattie’s orb.”
“What! Conflict of interest!”
Mae turns on me, hands up on my shoulders, big brown eyes pleading. “Hattie wouldn’t lie to me, would you Hattie?”
“I couldn’t,” I stammer, maddened by her intoxicating warmth so close to me, secluded here — if I were able to share her…
“That’s a good girl, Hattie.”
“Mae,” Alyx says, staggering forward and catching herself on me. “Sober me up?”
“Oooh, sorry Alyx — no magic without an instructor present.” She walks away, as seductive as always, and regards us with one last glance over the shoulder. “Clock’s ticking, girls!”
On a whitewood bench before the Aquatic School, I think about what to do.
It wouldn’t be hard to find Indel, and it wouldn’t be hard to fuck her, either — but can I really do that? She’s hot; I just don’t love her, and she loves me a lot. I don’t wanna exploit her.
Then again, Alyx would — in a heartbeat. And you need to beat her.
Still…
Maybe I should find out what Alyx is up to. If she’s not gonna pull it off, I can leave Indel be. Or… you could make the both of you feel good and fuck Indel to get a headstart in the points.
My perception leaps away, and merges into Alyx’s.
VILA VILA VILA VILA VILA
Where are you, Kitty? Your owner needs your help with something.
I bang on her door again, but there’s no reply. A few simple circles with my finger is all I need to bring forth a tiny jumping spider, totally soulless and still. Binding a spirit’s harder, but I keep myself practiced when it comes to bending wills, so after a few moments I’m on top of the psychic tangle, forcing a sliver of aimless soul into the spider.
“Go see if anyone’s in there,” I command, lowering the spider (balanced on my pinkie finger) under the crack of the door. A few moments later it returns and wiggles its head for no.
I release the spirit in a huff and head back into the grounds. There are no classes today, so if she’s not studying in her room… she’s probably studying in that stupid Diligence Compound.
But she might be out there, somewhere, and I have to find her.
Should be getting into the Honey Suites, with Canter, but hey, she’ll let me in. She has to. I can get her that Genna. Weapons-grade Korkoo. Straight spell factory runoff shit. Deal with this first.
Vila… So tight, so toned, so obedient. Knows what’s good for her, knows what she needs. Doesn’t make me wait. Sweet Vila. I need her.
She’s not in the library. She’s not in the statue garden. She’s not in the stands, watching the visitors arrive.
As I’m slinking away from the huge bleachers with my fists balled in frustration, there’s this fishhook feeling in my stomach that drags me off the path and into the overgrown bushes of the West Gardens. Vila? Mae? If it’s Mae I’m seizing her with my drunken fingers and getting knocked out cold before I can do anything, but Gods at least each attempt is some kind of relief.
My staggering brings me to a central ring of bushes, a snarling green citadel that I struggle through like an idiot, tearing strips off my blouse and skirt. At least it’s an excuse to talk to Mae again, get her to repair my uniform — I’ll be naked while she does it. She won’t mind if I jack off.
(What a mistake it was, getting into Alyx’s head.)
But it’s not Mae! It’s not even Vila! It’s just Nym, who jolts up from the ground as I emerge into the tight circle. “Woah,” I say, standing over her. “Whatcha doing?”
“Hiding. From Syrene. I think she’s mad at me.”
“Now what reason could she possibly have to be mad at a sweet girl like you?” Of course, I know full well what it is, and am almost certainly going to tack more on.
“You should get out of here.”
“Yeah, yeah, I- I know.” I drop to the grass next to her and put a hand on her hip. “It’s just, Nym, I’ve been all over campus looking for you. I can’t get you out of my head.”
Her eyes go wide, then turn away from me. “R-really?” she whispers.
“Really,” I lie. “I can’t stop thinking about you in that uniform. Shame you don’t have it here.”
“We could, we could go back to my room and-”
“No, no, no.” I’ve got her blouse unbuttoned. It slips to the grass. I run a thumb over her bare shoulder, hook it under her bra strap. “I can’t wait. You’re so fucking hot you just make me desperate.”
Nym moves my hand away. “I can’t do it again.” But she makes no effort to get her blouse back on, so I know what she really means — I have to pretend I don’t want it.
“That’s- that’s fine. I don’t wanna come between anything. Just let me,” I pull my cock free, “take care of this. I love those tits.” It’s not all a lie. She’s not as hot as Mae, she’s not as hot as Hattie, she’s not as hot as Vila. But it’s a nice bra, and leather’s a sexy touch. She’s not my first preference, but she’ll do.
Her face goes red as I stroke my cock. “You really like me, huh?”
“Like I said, you drive me crazy. You’re all I’ve thought about since-”
Nym shifts onto her side and glances around at the wall of branches around us. “I can take my skirt off, if you want.”
“Gods, please, Nym. Let me get a better view of that fucking ass.” And she does, wriggling it off so she’s before me in just her bra and panties with a pitiful, anticipating expression. “So fucking hot,” I growl.
After a silence broken only by my low moans, she turns her head to the sky and hums. “This is okay, right? This is just helping a friend.”
“Yes, fuck, Nym, yes — it’s because you’re so generous. You’re so kind. You don’t want to work me up without giving me release.”
She shifts closer so our warmth entangles. “Are you close?”
“I just can’t seem to get there. Maybe…” I trail off as my eyes trail down, to her hands. She bites her lip and reaches out, taking over for me with delicate elven hands. Soft, warm, and better friction than fur. “Fuck. Thank you.”
I reward her steady stroking with moans in her ear and some more whispered praise. “Can I tell you what I’m thinking?”
She nods her head eagerly.
“I’m thinking about a tight elven hole,” and then, making a snap judgement about Nym, “and a body made for deer cock.”
She flushes brighter than I’ve ever seen and shakes her head. “We- we can’t.”
“I know. I’m just fantasising. Surely I’m allowed to imagine you bent over?”
“I guess so.”
“I think I might need some more help, Nym.” With a tight grip on her hair I pull Nym’s face against my chest, and then down, down, and she takes my twitching cock into her mouth without question or protest. She even moans around it.
“Fuuuck. Good girl.”
It only takes one hand to keep her head in place, but I plant both anyway, firm on either side of her head as my hips buck and I use her throat. There’s some surprised sounds, muffled beyond recognition, but they quickly give way to moans. “Good girl,” I growl. “Taking it like my good little slut.”
Vila’s so much better at this. Vila would be sliding her tongue up and down like her life depended on it. This is more like… a toy.
I roll over, straddling her chest, and her face disappears under my skirt. The feeling stays, though, and after another false start with Mae it’s not long before I’m pinning her head against the ground and cumming down her throat.
When I pull off her, she rolls onto her side and coughs cum and spittle onto the grass. Water fills her eyes and tears roll down her cheeks; spit shines on her lips. She seems pissed, until I wrap my arms around her and whisper, “thank you so fucking much,” and any hostility drains in an instant.
“Can we- can we do me now?”
“I mean…” My fingers gently run up her thigh, across the front of her panties. “We could. But then it wouldn’t be you helping out a friend. Are you ready to cheat on her?”
She turns her head down, up, then back to me. “I guess not.”
“I owe you, though.”
Before she can ask what sort of favours she might get, I’m already up and adjusting my skirt. “Mmmm, Gods.” With a hoof between her breasts I force her flat against the ground, and her blush somehow deepens. “You make me so happy, Nym. Makes me wish I didn’t have to run.”
I walk away to the sound of Nym’s hand down her panties, her quiet moans lost in the bushes.
Fucking hell! How does nothing satisfy this woman?
I can’t judge her for wanting Mae; anyone who sees her should want Mae. But Gods, do you need to have every single thing you want?
She does, which is why she’s on her way to fuck a Princess! You can’t let her win!