Chapter Text
Chapter Thirty-Six: Elder Tiana, Finally
"Thank you for coming, barbarian."
"If you'd like to call me Jorgen, Tiana, I suppose I'd allow it.
The aristocratic elf sighed, "Fine, Jorgen."
"Good. So, how are we going to make Selene the grand duchess?"
"I haven't a clue what you mean."
The pale, raven-haired beauty glared, betraying her casual dismissal.
Jorgen chuckled, "No? How about this? You're going to help me make your daughter the grand duchess."
"Jorgen, please. Let's not jump too far ahead. I want to tell you a story."
The ageless elder turned to her maid, "Sinea, tea please."
"Yes, elder."
Tiana led Jorgen to a pair of comfortable chairs, with one large enough for the barbarian. There was a small tea table between them, off to on side. She folded a knee under herself and settled in. Jorgen noticed that the curvy elf's dress had a long slit up one side, exposing a pale length of shapely leg.
Jorgen followed suit, leaning back into the plush seat.
"I will tell you two stories tonight," she opened, "The first is the story of the fall of the last king of Athea. But let's sit and wait for tea first."
"Alright."
"This is nice, isn't it? Spending time with one another, without your massive human cock shoved down my throat."
Jorgen chuckled at her casual delivery, "Did you not like my cock in your throat, Tiana?"
"I.. didn't say that."
"I wouldn't have believed you if you did. Show me an elf who's not a slut for my cock and I'll check for a pulse."
"I can't argue with that, as vulgar as it may be. Hence, the downfall."
Jorgen hadn't started the vulgarity, but he decided to let it slide. This was a good opportunity.
"Exactly. I don't mean to point that out cruelly. I suppose I'm laying the groundwork for my idea, about Aleisa's quest."
"I am getting a sense of what that might look like. I've had some interesting conversations with Arelyn."
Tiana's maid returned and the pair sipped their tea.
**
The elder began, "My first story, about the last king of Athea."
"I'm listening."
"A little over two thousand years ago, while the city of Areistea fell, we in Westhaven were awash with elven refugees from all over Athea. We put most of them to work, fortifying the border at Nathelas. There were also several hundred thousand humans, as you know."
Jorgen nodded. He was already hooked. Ancient history was fascinating to the barbarian. Ancient elven history, which he hadn't had access to in Palla, was even more fascinating.
She continued, "The King of Athea, Sinias Erovein, fled Areistea, which had been our capital for millennia. He led the remnants of his armies, his allies and advisors, and his royal guard to the Bastion. There they helped fortify the two hundred thousand humans holding that great fortress, and the mountain valleys behind it."
The barbarian knew that The Bastion was in the south of Areis, far to the east of Westhaven's mountain-border. It was still a major city and held the Areisian military's central headquarters, training complex, and war college. He had been offered the opportunity to become an instructor there. He was that good at killing orcs.
"Meanwhile, Westhaven was ruled by Duke Iolea Innare Atan, who happened to be the only wood-elven provincial ruler in Athea, a position always held by a duke. His wood-elven heritage is only an interesting detail, mind you. In any case, the current grand duke, Teiran Asata, is a cadet descendent of Duke Atan."
The aristocratic elf sighed, as if deciding to say more than she'd planned. Jorgen hoped she would. The barbarian was transfixed. The scope and scale of Athea's ancient history, the profound impact of it, he could almost feel it. Like lighting in the air.
Tiana came to a decision. She sat up a little straighter, and locked eyes with Jorgen.
**
"My name, though I'm not permitted to use it, is Tiana Eliniea K'Atan S'Erovein, the last of King Erovein's line. And of the main branch of Duke Atan's."
"Until Selene was born," she added, "So yes, it is my goal to put my daughter on the Grand Duchal seat, which will then become the throne of the birthright queen. How YOU came to that conclusion, Jorgen the barbarian, is a mystery."
"I suppose it is," he said, "I just.. knew. That she was a princess."
Jorgen thought momentarily of his seed, currently dripping out of an actual elven princess's pussy, one level below. The oversexed barbarian would admit to being a little twisted, if asked.
After a moment, he asked, "Does she know?"
"No. I do not believe so. A few here in the northwest know, and a few in Nathelas. Including the duke, of course. All have reasons to keep it secret, even from my daughter. Either for her well-being, or their own."
Tiana's blue eyes had glinted dangerously, for just a moment. It occurred to Jorgen that the formidable elven noble might have blood on her hands.
But he asked, "Why aren't you the Grand Duchess?"
"Because," she snapped, "I am denied the right to hold title!"
She closed her eyes and took a calming breath, then said, "We will get to that."
Continuing her tale, the elder said, "King Erovein's daughter, Tarei, who was his only issue, had a child at The Bastion. My ancestor, Esara Erovein - and she was not a pure elf. Her mother, Tarei, had fucked a human. She was tenarei. Sullied, ruined, along with her half-human daughter."
Jorgen nodded. He was intimately familiar with tenarei.
"After the war, my ancestors, mother and daughter both, were stripped of all titles and exiled to Areis."
"How-"
"Let me finish, Jorgen."
The barbarian nodded and gestured for Tiana to continue.
**
"Thank you. As I was saying, the orcs were defeated, the king was dead, the humans were leaving Westhaven, and Tarei had a rather one-sided trial.
"You have to understand that it was a fraught time for the elves. Westhaven was still coming to grips with the reality of the downfall, and anti-tenarei sentiment was high. A hypocritical thing given that our entire race was lusting for human males. We were also deeply ashamed of that lust. As hypocritical as it was, it saved us, for a time."
"I think I understand."
"Good. Ultimately, Tarei and her daughter were removed to the new Areisian empire - an entity that elves helped to create, by the way. Esara, the half-elf, was sequestered at Imestide, along with five hundred loyal courtiers and attendants - elves all."
"Imestide?"
"The Erovein estate in the Faewyld. Imestide and its lands were a protected enclave in the empire, much like Westhaven. In fact, they still are."
Jorgen raised an eyebrow but Tiana carried on.
"At the time of Tarei's trial, The official responses to tenarei, and to mixed-race offspring, were still being formulated and debated. A sympathetic councilor managed to include a condition in Esara's exile, and that condition became law."
Jorgen leaned forward, captivated. Tiana decided that that was a good time to refresh her cup. The teapot was still hot, and steam rose as she slowly poured the tea. The elf smiled innocently. The noble bitch was teasing him.
Tiana sipped her tea and the barbarian tapped a giant boot on her fancy rug. At least they were clean, and even polished. Lys was a good maid.
Finally. The elf flashed a grin at Jorgen, and mercifully continued her tale.
"The right of return. Elvish descendants may return to Westhaven, but only after our ancestors have bred true for seven generations. And we are allowed no title nor familial claims. Regardless, that is how I came to live in Selani village, though I didn't know any of this at the time."
Of course, Jorgen thought, Tiana had been an exile.
"As I said, there were only elves at Imestide. Other than Esara, that is. And though we dwindled, we bred true. Meaning that each generation of Erovein bred only with our pure-blooded.. companions."
She continued, "My mother moved us here when I was an elfling, as commoners. Under Westhaven law, Erovein's line died with him when he fell at The Bastion."
"So-"
"My story moves forward now, Jorgen, to the present."
"Apologies, go on."
"Thank you. The duke and his privy council have prepared a new edict: An elven line will be considered legally pure after ten generations of elven parentage. And its qualifying descendants may lay claim to old titles, and birthrights."
Jorgen's mind was spinning. The last of the line of elven royalty. Selene.
**
"Can I ask a question?"
"Yes, go ahead."
"I've been told that a masculine elf must be king. What role does birthright play, and how does that apply to female descendant?"
Tiana smiled, lighting up her porcelain features.
"Excellent question. First, you must understand that there's a separation between the innate needs of our elven species, and the reality of politics. We like to think we've evolved."
"Evolving makes a lot of sense to me. Especially considering that elves' innate "needs" are causing your species to slowly die off."
"Yes, Jorgen, exactly."
"The second thing to understand," the elven noble continued, "is that the reign of a king, or queen, is very long. The royal family becomes an institution in elven society. As such, the royal family has the first right of succession. They are given two full generations to produce an acceptable male heir. Once an heir is put forward, he may face challengers for the throne. In the meantime, a rightful queen may reign, or even a steward."
Jorgen wondered what constituted a generation for the long-lived elves.
"Two generations-"
"Yes, well, that rule is rather pointless, considering there hasn't been a single viable male to lay challenge, in at least two thousand years."
Jorgen noted the word 'viable.'
"Alright. What are the challenges like?"
"Arbitrary. The outcome is decided when sufficient elves, especially nobles, feel the desire to submit."
"Back to elven instincts. The command thing."
"Yes," she said.
"So, your plan is for Selene to become the Erovein queen, waiting for a challenger who may never come."
"Yes."
"Why? I mean, it's obvious to me that your daughter is meant to be a leader. But what end do you have in mind?"
Tiana sighed, and finished her tea.
"Originally, as a means to subvert the duke's plans for my daughter. But then the goddess visited me. She also has plans for Selene, as you have probably surmised."
**
Jorgen was caught up on the first part, "The duke's plans for Selene?"
"Yes," she sighed, "the edict that would grant the tenth generation its titles and claims. He isn't doing it for our benefit."
"How so?"
"Something I learned before Selene was born. I have been laying the groundwork for a revolution ever since. I won't have my daughter used to further that scum's purposes."
The raven-haired noble took a calming breath, and the barbarian considered her words. A revolution. He decided to withhold judgment, but he had no desire watch the elves killing each other.
"Selene is the ninth generation, Jorgen," Tiana continued, "The duke plans to marry Selene to his son, her half-brother, when that insufferable brat reaches the age of majority. In three years."
"Alright, obviously I share your concern there. Some questions."
Tiana nodded.
"How many children has this duke had, and how has he done it? That doesn't sound like any inorei I've heard of."
**
Tiana shifted in her seat, drawing the barbarian's attention to her soft, shapely legs.
"Here, the first story transitions to the second. Wherein Selene and I become more.. immediate victims."
Her next words were delivered with a detached gravity, "First, know that Grand Duke Teiran Asata is over five hundred years old. He is a fifth generation cadet descendent of the old duke, Atan."
Then the elder shook Jorgen's understanding of the elves' plight.
"And he is a male."
She continued before the barbarian could process that, much less respond.
"In fact, he is one of two elven males alive today. The Asata line has produced five such creatures, since the downfall."
"I thought-"
"The phenomenon has been studied, but our best guess is that they are such surly, stubborn, greedy, small-minded, selfish cunts, that some of the males survive the memories which should have destroyed their masculine identity. They have carried on driven by decadent self-indulgence, corruption, vanity, cruelty, and everything other than masculine pride."
Males, but not masculine, Jorgen wasn't surprised. Then he remembered Nelion, the barkeep in Areistea, who had said, 'No males, or very few and not prone to thriving.'
"Unfortunately for the elven race," Tiana added, "it seems to be a singular phenomenon."
She poured herself another cup of tea, and Jorgen nodded when she offered. It was still steaming hot. Curious, he lifted the delicate ceramic teapot, gently gripping its flowing handle between his huge finger and thumb. The color of cream, it was decorated with typically wood-elven nature designs in green and brown. The barbarian was ably to identify two subtle runes at its base.
The elf sipped her tea, then continued, "As to how the duke has reproduced. He has had five offspring. He had one child with his only wife, who is long dead, and that daughter was exiled as tenarei.
"But over the past century, sensing his mortality, the duke has become highly motivated by thoughts of his legacy. And he has resorted to extraordinary means to achieve his goals. He wanted a son, and he wanted an Erovein daughter to marry that son.
"Their issue would have a legitimate claim on the elven throne, and no viable challengers. His grandchild would be the first king or queen we've had in two thousand years. A true heir, carrying his blood twice over. As if it were his own child. For him, anything less would be an unworthy legacy."
Jorgen was starting to really dislike this duke.
"So, Jorgen, that is where I come in. The duke kept many females, including myself, in a harem of sorts. Inorei too, I should add. He used alchemical assistance that, in my case, amounted to rape, and used all sorts of other distasteful and often twisted methods to enhance arousal. You should also know that humans died in his experiments."
"Tiana, I-"
"Again, not the sort of thing that will help the elven people, just one very rich and twisted old elf. He was successful in this effort four times."
She held up a hand, "I'm almost done."
"It all finally stopped when the duke's male son, Norei, was born. That was fifteen years ago. His daughters, Raelys and Earys, are extras. Selene is the last piece. I was released, along with his other captives. But we were commanded to care for his children, with orders to secrecy upon pain of death."
She studied the barbarian, then said, "There you have it, Jorgen. Selene knows who her father is, but not how that came to be. Nor does she know that she is an Erovein. A few others know some or all of it. Most are my close allies, or the duke's. Raelys is one of them. Her mother and I were friends when we were captive."
Tiana waited patiently as Jorgen processed. This was all insane. Then again, it sounded like just the sort of insanity nobles would get up to. And, to some extent, he understood. Elven civilization was slipping away. A little insanity made sense.
Finally, the barbarian nodded, finished off his tea and set down the cup.
**
"How have you kept Selene's Erovein ancestry from her? I would think that the duke would have tried to entice her with his plan, or perhaps capture her. Why is she allowed to roam around, to get married to a commoner like Arelyn?"
"Aleisa was right about you, barbarian. You cut to the heart of it."
Jorgen acknowledged the compliment with a small nod, but gestured for the elf to continue.
"Right, yes. The duke can't be seen to associate with an impure line like ours. If he publicly acknowledges Selene and brings her close, he believes our heritage, which by treaty, the dukes have kept secret, will become public. He would then have to announce his edict earlier than he plans, and it will likely be unpopular."
"So," she continued, "He plans to announce his edict and his childrens' wedding simultaneously, effectively announcing our impure status and his.. Solution, I guess we could say. The return of an Erovein ruler would be popular, despite the stigma against those of us with impure ancestry. A stigma that my movement is also working to overcome."
"You said the dukes have kept your heritage secret, by treaty?"
"Yes, I told you about the condition of our exile?"
"The right of return," Jorgen recounted, "Seven generations of breeding-true, and the descendants would be allowed to return."
"Correct. However, the first Grand Duke of Westhaven issued an edict invalidating that law. Until the Areisian empress leveraged a treaty that guaranteed the right of return."
"What leverage?"
"South Drantyr County."
"What about it?"
"It was in the possession of the empire, well after the war. Our human allies had been responsible for defending the mountain passes in the south, which were passable for orcs in the summer months. They had a large population there, including many civilians. They built towns, farms, mines, and all the rest. There were soldiers on those southern walls whose parents and grandparents had been born in Westhaven. True enough all over the protectorate, but for the humans of South Drantyr it was their home."
Two thousand years ago, Jorgen marveled. The way the centuries-old elf spoke brought ancient history to life.
"After the downfall, the presence of humans in Westhaven, with no natural border, was a source of tension and concern for us. The Areisian empress was sympathetic, and amenable to the difficult task of relocating the human population, and ceding the land to Westhaven. She had a few conditions. One was the guaranteed right of return. Another was that our Erovein heritage be kept secret."
"Why was the empress so supportive of your family?"
Tiana smirked, then locked eyes with Jorgen.
"The first empress of Areis was named Tarei Erovein. The late king's tenarei daughter."
Holy fuck.
"Tarei's human husband, the first emperor, was the general who defended The Bastion to the end, and he was the father of Esara, my half-human ancestor."
Tiana wasn't done, and she kept the barbarian's gaze locked. He felt like he was under a spell.
"Tarei lived nearly seven hundred years, and her descendent sits on the Areisian throne today."
The room was dead silent for several long moments, until Jorgen couldn't contain his reaction, "Aleisa's cunt!," he boomed. A plate crashed to the floor in the next room.
Ignoring that, the barbarian ranted, "You are telling me that you and Selene are descended from the last king of Athea.. AND from the first empress of Areis?"
Tiana responded calmly, "And the old dukes of Westhaven, twice over in Selene's case, yes."
"And related to the current empress? Is she elvish?"
"Yes, cousins. And yes, Sinan's maternal ancestors have made a point of taking elvish men, as well as humans, to their beds. She has an eclectic bloodline."
"How old is she?"
"In her nineties. She visited Nathelas when I was sequestered at the palace, newly pregnant with Selene. Sinan and I met in secret. She was a very beautiful young woman. And very elfin. Between us, I was quite drawn to her."
Elves and their relatives.
**
The pair ate some finger sandwiches. Tiana's maid brought a towering stack of them for the huge barbarian.
Jorgen spoke up after few minutes of contemplative silence, "I had been planning to ask, when we finally talked: The duke should have heard of my presence by now, right? Selene told me there's communication magic between here and Nathelas. Am I a secret still?"
Tiana chuckled, "Hardly. He is aware. The rangers control the system of aligned crystals we use for communication, and not all the outposts between here and Nathelas are loyal to me."
She raised a hand, "He is not coming for you. At least not right away."
"Why?"
"Because you are holding Selene and Raelys hostage," she said casually, "and will kill them if he does."
"I.. am holding them hostage?"
"Yes."
More silence.
"Alright. It's a good tactic, Tiana. But I would have like to know sooner."
"It was on my agenda, Jorgen. As you said, 'when we finally talked.'"
"Fair enough. Since we're on delayed subjects, do you want to hear my plan for the ino-"
**
Tiana and Jorgen suddenly found themselves seated on comfortable chairs. They were similar to the ones they'd been sitting in moments ago, next to a similar tea table.
But the location had changed. They were in the center of a familiar marble platform, circled by pillars topped by statues of winged elven valkyries - Nikei, Jorgen reminded himself. A beautiful grassy plain extended to the horizon, under a blue sky with the occasional white, puffy cloud.
A third chair was set across the small table. Seated on it was a beautiful golden-eyed goddess, wearing a gauzy, nearly transparent robe. And a wicked grin. Jorgen noted that he and Tiana were wearing similarly indecent robes. At least he had clothes this time.
The champion decided to practice his divine flirting.
"Hello, beautiful."
The sex goddess blushed like an elfling.
"Hello champion," she purred, "and Tiana."
The elven noble blinked away her shock. Then she jumped to her feet and bowed low, smacking her head onto the table between herself and Aleisa. She didn't cry out, but it must have hurt. Jorgen appreciated Tiana's large (for an elf) breasts hanging down, with her thick nipples clearly visible through the gauzy robe.
"Tiana, I've told you we don't need to do this here in my realm. You're a guest."
"Yes, my lady goddess," she gushed, "Thank you."
The big man was just fascinated by the effect of the flustered elf's jerky, unsteady movements on her figure. The robes made it somehow more erotic than bare skin would have been.
She found her seat and Aleisa brought Jorgen back to the moment.
"I've been enjoying your conversation so far. I especially like it when you pray to my cunt, champion."
"It's deserved, goddess. You have a truly magnificent cunt."
"Thank you," she said, with a sweet smile.
"I decided to interrupt before our gorgeous, brilliant barbarian could lay out his ideas for the inorei, and elven fertility. He is onto something, but there's one piece of information he does not have."
"That is?," Jorgen asked.
The goddess's wicked, seductive smile gave him an instant, steel-hard erection. All the big man could do was sit back nonchalantly while Tiana's gaze dropped to the massive pillar lifting Jorgen's nearly-transparent robe from his lap.
The blessing, he thought. But Aleisa continued before the big man could focus on gaining control over his cock.
"Jorgen, my love, you are on the path to ascension."
Tiana gasped, as elves do.
"Ascend?"
"To godhood. I have finally convinced six of my peers that we need a god of masculinity, and you've been chosen."
"Uh-"
"That is, if you can overcome some challenges. it will probably take a few decades, depending. But that's nothing. I fought hard for this. You're welcome."
"Fuck me."
***
End of Book One.