Voldamar Books
Demesne New Beginnings
Demesne Challenge
Take a look inside the Cassiopeia
A Visit to Orodreth
The tall man standing near the window turns and moves up behind the graceful lady sitting at an ornate desk with a quill in hand. He stands next to her chair for a moment, silently contemplating the woman that has changed his life in so many ways. Solen Telendris does not contemplate his families role in the elven realm, he does not even think about his time, or position in Orodreth. He just marvels at the woman before him.
The smooth, dark hair stops just below her shoulders. She is about a head shorter than he is, and like him, she is lean and strong. Her soft features hide the strength within, which is well beyond any he has encountered. Most of it is in her determination, will, and abilities than, in her body. But don't count out that body, he thinks to himself. He watches the long, tapered fingers handle the delicate quill as she records the entries in her journal. She turns her head from time to time to contemplate what she has written, and he notices her amber eyes twinkling when she looks at him, then refocusing on the task at hand. He is amazed that she is so warm and caring, after all the events of her past. Her death at birth, rebirth, and then the destruction of her family. Being hunted, though she knew it not, until she faced those that were hunting her. How finding an old man changed her life even more, as she became tied to this valley and to the others here, as one of their protectors, as a part of the seal of containment.
Leaning over, he moves the dark hair from her neck and kisses the soft, smooth skin. She scrunches up her shoulder and giggles lightly, turning her head to kiss him, and then she looks up at him with warm, adoring eyes, full of love.
His own eyes mirror hers as he stares into their depths, and then he turns his head and looks down. "What are you writing now?" he asks curiously, peeking at the journal.
"I am just making another entry about the day's events. Nothing ... telling. Well, maybe a little telling," she says with a mischievous smile.
"Well, then," he replies softly as he nibbles her earlobe and then whispers in her ear, "Maybe I can give you something else to put in your journal." He wraps his arms around her and gently pulls her out of the chair and onto her feet.
"Solen!" she exclaims in mock protest, but then her lips become too busy to say anything when his kiss stops her from speaking. When he pulls back finally, she asks, "What about my journal?"
He picks her up, scooping her off her feet, and she nestles her head against his bare chest. "I think your journal will just have to wait for a little while. The sun has been gone for some time, and the moon is full," he says as he walks over to the bed and sets her gently on its edge. "Lady Aithera Kilbray Telendris, I think it's time for bed."
"Yes, Milord," she replies with a breathless, radiant smile.
Aithera slowly opens her eyes and blinks as the soft light of day invades her vision. She takes a moment or two, trying to remember where she is, for her memory seems to be fuzzy. Then a smile slowly lights up her face and her eyes sparkle as the memories of the previous night come flooding back, and her cheeks begin to flush as she remembers. With a nearly cat-like purr, she stretches, raising her arms high above her head, and with a very contented sigh, she brings them back down. Starting at her hair, she fluffs the long tresses out from under her head on the pillow. The hands travel along her cheeks, feeling the warmth in them as they travel along her neck, over her shoulders. Over the prominent breasts, shivering inside as her hands brush the sensitive flesh that quickly comes to attention. Her hands travel along the ribs and over the flat muscles of her stomach that ache from lovemaking. Her hands move smoothly over the hip bones and partly down her thighs, which also have a pleasant ache from the evening, with her lover. She turns onto her side, resting her head in the palm of her hand. With a soft sigh, she admires the man lying next to her, sleeping on his back. The chest slowly rises and falls with his gentle breathing, and his face is serene and relaxed.
Her smile gets bigger as she carefully reaches out and brushes a stray hair off his forehead, and then her fingers gently trace the narrow face, marveling at the softness of the skin. She runs a finger lightly along the strong jaw, neck, and over the shoulders. Then her hand flattens out as she lightly skims her flattened hand over his chest. An involuntary shudder runs through her and she gasps quietly as her hand rests on his stomach. She jerks and her eyes flare as his hand gently covers hers as he rolls to his side. His deep eyes sparkle as he studies her face, smiling contentedly.
"Morning," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
Aithera's blush gets deeper as she replies, "Morning, my love."
Solen smiles as he gently rubs the back of her hand. "Been awake long?"
Aithera smiles tenderly. "Not long, did you sleep well?"
He chuckles. "Very well, and you?"
"Oh yes," she breathes. "I think I passed out," she says, and his smile gets bigger.
"Well," he replies, "I think I was not far behind you." He sighs contentedly. "So, what do you have in mind this morning?"
The window to their room slowly opens. A large bird of prey glides in, and with a rustle of feathers, it lands lightly on the foot board, chirps, and then turns its head upside down and back upright as she thinks, <What have you been up to?>
"Good morning to you, too, Chaka," Aithera replies and then chuckles. <It's none of 'your' business, dear.> The bird turns its head upside down, blinks, and then chirps at them before turning her head right side up and chirping again.
Aithera ends up on top of Solen as he rolls onto his back, and she leans down and kisses him. Then she sits up and smiles wickedly. "More?"
As Solen reaches for the prominent, flawless skin, presented to him so invitingly, there is a squawk of protest and a flurry of feathers as Chaka flies out the window, and the window closes on its own.
After they have rested from another round of play. He comes up behind her as she is brushing her hair, and leans down to nibble on her neck.
"Solen!" she exclaims and then giggles. "We cannot hide in our room all day. You said that we needed to go to Orodreth."
"Sounds good to me. Hiding in the room, that is."
Laughing, she lightly bops him on his head with the brush. "Be good now."
"I thought I was good," he replies with mock surprise, straightening up quickly.
Aithera laughs as she turns in her chair, looking at him with her head tilted slightly to one side. "Oh, that you were," she purrs. "Now, behave yourself," she says as she turns back to the mirror. "We have already been away from the others too long. They might get the wrong idea and get worried."
Solen laughs lightly as he goes and gets his robe. "Unless the room has wards around it, I don't think anyone will have the wrong idea. I think everyone knows how ... well, just how mellow you are," he adds with a wide grin. "Because I think you were broadcasting your feelings without much shielding last night."
Excerpt From
Demesne' The Challenge
S.F. Swem
This material may be protected by copyright.
The tall man standing near the window turns and moves up behind the graceful lady sitting at an ornate desk with a quill in hand. He stands next to her chair for a moment, silently contemplating the woman that has changed his life in so many ways. Solen Telendris does not contemplate his families role in the elven realm, he does not even think about his time, or position in Orodreth. He just marvels at the woman before him.
The smooth, dark hair stops just below her shoulders. She is about a head shorter than he is, and like him, she is lean and strong. Her soft features hide the strength within, which is well beyond any he has encountered. Most of it is in her determination, will, and abilities than, in her body. But don't count out that body, he thinks to himself. He watches the long, tapered fingers handle the delicate quill as she records the entries in her journal. She turns her head from time to time to contemplate what she has written, and he notices her amber eyes twinkling when she looks at him, then refocusing on the task at hand. He is amazed that she is so warm and caring, after all the events of her past. Her death at birth, rebirth, and then the destruction of her family. Being hunted, though she knew it not, until she faced those that were hunting her. How finding an old man changed her life even more, as she became tied to this valley and to the others here, as one of their protectors, as a part of the seal of containment.
Leaning over, he moves the dark hair from her neck and kisses the soft, smooth skin. She scrunches up her shoulder and giggles lightly, turning her head to kiss him, and then she looks up at him with warm, adoring eyes, full of love.
His own eyes mirror hers as he stares into their depths, and then he turns his head and looks down. "What are you writing now?" he asks curiously, peeking at the journal.
"I am just making another entry about the day's events. Nothing ... telling. Well, maybe a little telling," she says with a mischievous smile.
"Well, then," he replies softly as he nibbles her earlobe and then whispers in her ear, "Maybe I can give you something else to put in your journal." He wraps his arms around her and gently pulls her out of the chair and onto her feet.
"Solen!" she exclaims in mock protest, but then her lips become too busy to say anything when his kiss stops her from speaking. When he pulls back finally, she asks, "What about my journal?"
He picks her up, scooping her off her feet, and she nestles her head against his bare chest. "I think your journal will just have to wait for a little while. The sun has been gone for some time, and the moon is full," he says as he walks over to the bed and sets her gently on its edge. "Lady Aithera Kilbray Telendris, I think it's time for bed."
"Yes, Milord," she replies with a breathless, radiant smile.
Aithera slowly opens her eyes and blinks as the soft light of day invades her vision. She takes a moment or two, trying to remember where she is, for her memory seems to be fuzzy. Then a smile slowly lights up her face and her eyes sparkle as the memories of the previous night come flooding back, and her cheeks begin to flush as she remembers. With a nearly cat-like purr, she stretches, raising her arms high above her head, and with a very contented sigh, she brings them back down. Starting at her hair, she fluffs the long tresses out from under her head on the pillow. The hands travel along her cheeks, feeling the warmth in them as they travel along her neck, over her shoulders. Over the prominent breasts, shivering inside as her hands brush the sensitive flesh that quickly comes to attention. Her hands travel along the ribs and over the flat muscles of her stomach that ache from lovemaking. Her hands move smoothly over the hip bones and partly down her thighs, which also have a pleasant ache from the evening, with her lover. She turns onto her side, resting her head in the palm of her hand. With a soft sigh, she admires the man lying next to her, sleeping on his back. The chest slowly rises and falls with his gentle breathing, and his face is serene and relaxed.
Her smile gets bigger as she carefully reaches out and brushes a stray hair off his forehead, and then her fingers gently trace the narrow face, marveling at the softness of the skin. She runs a finger lightly along the strong jaw, neck, and over the shoulders. Then her hand flattens out as she lightly skims her flattened hand over his chest. An involuntary shudder runs through her and she gasps quietly as her hand rests on his stomach. She jerks and her eyes flare as his hand gently covers hers as he rolls to his side. His deep eyes sparkle as he studies her face, smiling contentedly.
"Morning," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
Aithera's blush gets deeper as she replies, "Morning, my love."
Solen smiles as he gently rubs the back of her hand. "Been awake long?"
Aithera smiles tenderly. "Not long, did you sleep well?"
He chuckles. "Very well, and you?"
"Oh yes," she breathes. "I think I passed out," she says, and his smile gets bigger.
"Well," he replies, "I think I was not far behind you." He sighs contentedly. "So, what do you have in mind this morning?"
The window to their room slowly opens. A large bird of prey glides in, and with a rustle of feathers, it lands lightly on the foot board, chirps, and then turns its head upside down and back upright as she thinks, <What have you been up to?>
"Good morning to you, too, Chaka," Aithera replies and then chuckles. <It's none of 'your' business, dear.> The bird turns its head upside down, blinks, and then chirps at them before turning her head right side up and chirping again.
Aithera ends up on top of Solen as he rolls onto his back, and she leans down and kisses him. Then she sits up and smiles wickedly. "More?"
As Solen reaches for the prominent, flawless skin, presented to him so invitingly, there is a squawk of protest and a flurry of feathers as Chaka flies out the window, and the window closes on its own.
After they have rested from another round of play. He comes up behind her as she is brushing her hair, and leans down to nibble on her neck.
"Solen!" she exclaims and then giggles. "We cannot hide in our room all day. You said that we needed to go to Orodreth."
"Sounds good to me. Hiding in the room, that is."
Laughing, she lightly bops him on his head with the brush. "Be good now."
"I thought I was good," he replies with mock surprise, straightening up quickly.
Aithera laughs as she turns in her chair, looking at him with her head tilted slightly to one side. "Oh, that you were," she purrs. "Now, behave yourself," she says as she turns back to the mirror. "We have already been away from the others too long. They might get the wrong idea and get worried."
Solen laughs lightly as he goes and gets his robe. "Unless the room has wards around it, I don't think anyone will have the wrong idea. I think everyone knows how ... well, just how mellow you are," he adds with a wide grin. "Because I think you were broadcasting your feelings without much shielding last night."
Excerpt From
Demesne' The Challenge
S.F. Swem
This material may be protected by copyright.
Books
