Lady and King

This chapter is dedicated to wanderingaddict. Thanks for the review, I think it helped keep the creative juices (hehehe) flowing. By the way, let me know if you got any ideas for sexytimes. I got the next chapter all figured out but after that... fucked if I know, lol.

(Same goes to anyone out there reading this--I need some kind of inspiration guys, or else I might go back to playing WoW instead of writing about it. Oh fuck me, I haven't done JC daily in fucking days...)


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Chapter Two


Stormwind Castle
Stormwind
Alliance Territory

Penny the maid cautiously entered the Bluebell Room in the eastern guest wing. She noted in relief that the Lady Emma was still asleep and lay unmoving under the covers, her face in shadow. She waved the footmen inside and they quietly and efficiently brought in the large copper bathing tub filled with steaming hot water while she herself arranged the lady’s breakfast on the table by the window.

When she’d woken up this morning the entire staff below stairs was buzzing with the most shocking news: the king, who she’d never heard in her five years of service take a lover once, had… relations with some unknown lady—an unmarried lady!—last night during the ball. Penny had not been required in the main halls so did not witness it herself, but Hildy said—who heard from Craton who heard from one of the junior mages—that His Majesty and the Lady had been so… animated that Gestus had Mage Wythe put a silencing charm over the room!

It had been all so scandalous that Penny had not even heard a single word about the assassination attempt until she’d run across Colburn in the hallway who was scrubbing away the dried blood.

Then Majordomo Herst had come into the kitchens and announced that the king expected that the Lady Emma be treated with the utmost respect and deference, that anyone caught gossiping or spreading ill words about her person would be severely punished.

And in the court of King Varian Wrynn the words ‘severely punished’ should not taken lightly.

The kitchens had grown silent as the grave at the majordomo’s words. Penny had not understood the import of such an announcement until she’d caught Yvonne, one of the lead cooks, who’d told her in a furious whisper:

“Idiot! If we’ve specifically been told to defer to her then that means King Wrynn is taking this Lady Emma under the formal protection of his name and that can mean only one of two things: either he wishes for her to become his mistress, or his royal wife!”

Penny’s eyes had grown wide as saucers but before she could even begin to think about the consequences of such an event—a mistress! a queen!—the majordomo had pulled her aside and told her to prepare a breakfast and a bath to take to the Bluebell Room where Lady Emma was sleeping.

Penny adjusted the slant of the butter knife and worried her lip, wishing she’d thought to bring some fresh flowers in a vase along with the food. She heard that the Lady Emma was exceedingly beautiful and Penny was sure she would have preferred to have some pretty flowers to look at while she ate—

“A bath, just what I needed.”

“Eep!” Penny squeaked, jumping in surprise, the butter knife flying from her hand. She whirled around just in time to see one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen pluck the wayward spinning cutlery straight out of mid-air. “L-Lady Emma? You’re awake! I, uh, did not hear you.” Belatedly Penny sank into a deep curtsy and glared at the gaping footmen to bow. “Good morning, my lady.”

“Yes, good morning,” the Lady said in what must surely be the most melodious, lilting voice Penny had ever heard. She put the knife back on the table, her movements the very personification of grace even while wearing a wrinkled ball gown that was practically falling off her shoulders.

Oh, Penny thought, stars in her eyes as she looked at Lady Emma’s face as it was bathed in the bright morning sunlight, she would make such a lovely, beautiful queen! What gorgeous blonde hair she has—looking romantically tousled falling over her shoulders! How lovely and blue her eyes; how long her lashes! How flawless and smooth the skin of her shoulders, her breas—

“Dear heavens are you undressing?!” Penny shrieked.

“I wish to take a bath,” the Lady said, raising her eyebrows, gown hanging from her elbows, her breasts bared with nipples peaked in the crisp morning air.

Penny gaped for a moment before throwing her apron over Lady Emma’s torso and yelling at the drooling, bug-eyed footmen still in the room. “Leave us!”

“Ah, I’d forgotten how prudish you all are,” Lady Emma murmured as the men filed out of the room and closed the door.

“I’d think it’s just common sense!” Penny exclaimed, then said, coughing, “Uh, my lady.” Quickly she drew away the apron and set to work undressing the lady. Penny could not help but admire each new inch of skin uncovered; the lady was truly, uncommonly stunning. If Penny had not seen the rounded shell of the Lady’s ears herself she would think Lady Emma was one of those beautiful—yet horrible—Blood Elves!

Penny blushed as soon as the Lady was naked and averted her eyes from the dried white flecks staining Lady Emma’s upper thighs. Goodness that must be—the king’s—oh my!

It was easier to be professional when the Lady had lowered herself into the hot bathwater. Penny busied herself pouring bath oils and dried rose petals, unwinding her lady’s hair from her ruined coiffure and washing the heavy silken mass.

Having possessed herself a small amount of magic, Penny was able to dry Lady Emma’s person in a moment. She quickly dressed her in the light green morning gown that they had asked her House to send over.

As Penny threaded a pale green lace ribbon through Lady Emma’s hair in a simple chignon, she couldn’t help but imagine what it might be like having this beautiful and gracious—if a little odd—Lady as the Queen Consort…

She chanced a smile at Lady Emma’s composed, calm face over the vanity mirror. Penny imagined it would be quite lovely.

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Sylvanas had forgotten how tedious it was to be waited on and dressed by servants. It was all she could do not to strangle the silly girl with the ribbon the little maid insisted on attaching to her hair.

What good were hair ribbons and lace in a battle? She thought to herself derisively. By this time in Undercity she would have already crushed a band of renegade trolls and beheaded three traitors to her reign.

Not that there were many more of those left among the Forsaken, after the purge she’d led since Varimathras’ betrayal.

Finally the girl seemed satisfied by the proper set of her hair and the neat fall of her gown. And all for nothing, Sylvanas thought, as she planned on getting herself fucked by Wrynn and then seeing what information she could glean from his advisers as soon as possible.

When she awoke in this body and discovered that Wrynn had placed her in one of the royal guest bed chambers, and had clearly ordered the servants to not only attend her but defer to her, she realized that the fool was actually considering to make her his lover! After one night of—granted, quite excellent—fucking, the idiot man had let his cock lead his brain.

Sylvanas had almost burst out in laughter.

She had thought to use this body to gather information from some minor dignitary, but now she had the chance to discover all of Stormwind’s secrets when she gained access to Wrynn’s inner circle as his mistress. It was most delightful.

“Would you like a scone or a muffin with your breakfast, my lady?” Sylvanas flicked her eyes at the repast laid out before her and remembered that this body was one of the living and would need to consume food to keep its strength.

She kept forgetting that small fact.

However…

“I would would like to break my fast with the king,” she said, and stood to leave the room.

Flustered, the little human chased after her. “But, my lady! His Majesty usually has his breakfast with his advisers, during their morning session.”

Oh does he, really? Perfect. “And where is that?”

“The west parlor, but—but my lady!” Sylvanas ignored the rest of the human’s babble and used her senses to find the room in question. Although she’d never been in the keep’s private residential areas, her skills as a ranger served her well and she arrived at the correct door in minutes.

It was shut and two soldiers stood guard, but all Sylvanas had to do was imbue her voice with authority—and a touch of enchantment—and they opened it readily enough.

What a weak willed group of soldiers Wrynn had.

Every eye in the room turned to her as soon as she walked in and all conversation abruptly stopped. Wrynn sat at the head of a long table laden with food, his face thunderous as he’d been listening to some old man wearing the self-important robes of a priest beside him.

“What’s the meaning of this?” One dour looking noble stood and exclaimed. “Who do you think you are, barging into our meeting like this? Guards!”

Hm, she’d forgotten how prissy live court officials were.

Wrynn held up a hand just as the soldiers stationed outside reached for her arms. “Halt,” he said, his voice mild. The expression on his face was less annoyed now, and Sylvanas could see a touch of amusement in his eyes. “You have excellent timing, my dear,” he said, motioning for her to come to him. Sylvanas did, keeping her eyes on him while her other senses took in the reactions from the eight advisers around the table. She felt curiosity and wariness most of all, but there was also a hint of… fear? Ah, and resentment. How interesting.

Living creatures were so much more easily deciphered than the dead. It must be because they still gave off heat.

Wrynn stood and offered her his hand, turning her to those assembled. “Lady Emma Grey, may I introduce… my various advisers, or at least, some of them.”

There was a pregnant pause while everyone in the room absorbed the fact that the king had given precedence to a relatively unknown lady over a selection of his trusted advisers. Slowly they each stood and bowed to her, pretty, charming words spilling from their mouths while their shrewd eyes took in her dress, the way she stood, and the significance of Wrynn introducing her to them as she held his right hand.

Sylvanas kept a small, polite smile on her face even as her mind raced with possibilities and theories.

“Lady Emma is to be my guest for the foreseeable future, I trust that you will all endeavor to make her stay pleasant,” Wrynn continued, his voice deceptively soft and amiable. A delicious chill shivered down Sylvanas’ spine. Murmured assent rose from the men and women. “And now I would like to finish my breakfast in peace.” He held his hand up to forestall arguments. “I will think on your words and we shall continue our discussion this afternoon. Now leave us.”

One by one they all bowed and left, the priest—Father Belvedere—shooting one last look at Sylvanas before exiting.

“I don’t want to be disturbed,” Wrynn said to the guards who nodded and shut the doors firmly.

Sylvanas dropped the vacuous expresson on her face and raised her brows at him, eyes narrowed. Wrynn smiled and casually tilted her chin up for a kiss. “Good morning, angel,” he murmured against her lips.

“You just introduced me to your advisers as you would a consort,” Sylvanas said bluntly, moving her lips against his. The game had changed on her: Wrynn might have been fool enough to decide to make an easy fuck into his mistress, but he would not have presented her as a legitimate companion, no matter how much he enjoyed her quim. “You are planning something. Explain.”

She felt him smile. He gave her a final kiss and lick and then regained his seat. “Why is it that I feel like I’ve known you all my life when I only first laid eyes on you last night?” he asked mildly, reaching for a piece of bacon.

“My tight cunt has fooled you into thinking we’re best friends,” Sylvanas said, impatient. He laughed. “Now explain yourself, Wrynn.”

“Sit down and have some breakfast,” he said. Sylvanas waited a moment then took a seat. Wrynn placed a small plate of honeyed fruit in front of her. As soon as she popped a peeled grape into her mouth he continued, “the assassination attempt last night, did you notice anything odd about it?”

Sylvanas chewed and considered. She had two options: assist Wrynn with whatever plot he was hatching to gain his trust and confidence, or pretend stupidity while secretly discovering who wanted the King of Stormwind dead and help them. Both options had merit, but…

“He was too obviously dressed as a Defias,” she said. Wrynn smiled at her, eyes warming. “I’ve heard that forty Horde could not bring you down, and yet you are supposed to believe the Defias sent one lone rogue to somehow slit your throat. Someone wants you dead,” she concluded, “but it isn’t the Defias—or at least, not any more than usual.”

“Charming,” he murmured, eyes at half-mast, and pressed a piece of sweetmeat to her lips. She let him place it on her tongue and took the opportunity to nip at his finger before he withdrew. He leaned back in his chair and licked the digit. His eyes drifted to the cleavage framed by her gown’s neckline. “You know I never did get to see your breasts last night,” he said casually.

Sylvanas raised a brow. His pheromones, apparently as potent during the day as they were at night, had not stopped assaulting her senses since she’d walked in the room. Her quim had been damp even before they’d been left alone, as she was sure he knew. She loosened the laces of her gown and delicately tugged her neckline down until her breasts spilled over it, warm sunlight falling across them from the high windows, making her nipples peak and her bath-fresh skin glow.

“Lovely,” he whispered, staring, his eyes dark and his breathing deep. He seemed disinclined to move from his sprawl so Sylvanas lifted one hand to trace her fingertip around one aureole then cupped the breast, using the nail of her thumb to scratch at her nipple, making her gasp. “Yes, someone does want me to think that the Defias have become active once again.” Sylvanas continued to fondle her breasts, using both hands now, as Wrynn went on with his explanation. “This morning all my advisers tried to impress upon me the importance of sending men to crush what’s left of the organization. Men I could ill afford to send off in a fool’s errand.” Her blood running so hot now, Sylvanas moved to reach under her skirts, gods her quim was so wet. “Don’t!” Wrynn ordered, and Sylvanas glared at him before putting both hands back on her breasts, caressing them and pinching her nipples between her fingers.

Finally, Wrynn moved, shoving plates away. He plucked her from her chair and sat her on the table in front of him. He grinned wickedly at her flushed face and took his seat between her legs, slowly running his hands up her calves, thighs, raising her skirts along the way. “What do you suppose they’ll all think when I introduce you, a lady they’ve never even heard of—“ he flipped her skirt up, exposing her soaked drawers “—as my new consort?” He hooked a finger along the crotch of her underwear and tugged sharply, tearing the delicate silk with a rip.

Sylvanas keened as he stroked her uncovered clit, already so ready to be played with. She shivered through a small climax and panted as she watched him take a honeyed grape from a platter and slowly rub it against the swollen pink nub before pushing it inside her cunt with a strong finger. “Answer me, angel,” he ordered as he thumbed her clit and crooked his finger inside her, to hit that spot that—

“Ah!” Sylvanas cried, cunt clenching around his finger in orgasm. She felt the grape burst inside her. Her legs trembled around his shoulders and she gasped, “they—they’ll think I’ve ensorcelled you—“

“Yes,” Wrynn hissed and put his mouth on her quim, thrusting his tongue past her labia, licking up to her clit and sucking strongly. Sylvanas gripped his hair and screamed. He tore his mouth from her cunt. “What else?” he asked, licking at the crease of her thigh. “What will they do, angel? Tell me.” He licked into her again, letting her feel his teeth. She felt him rub at her hole.

“Th—they’ll try to find out who—ah!—who sent me, what I wan—ah!” Her cunt quivered and clenched around his tongue, climaxing as soon as he plunged one thick finger into her ass.

“Yes,” he said, suddenly drawing away and standing, kicking his chair back as he took out his cock and hauled her to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he fucked into her in one smooth, hard thrust. “And you know what that will get me, angel?” he panted, punctuating each word with a shove of his hips.

Sylvanas was beyond words, now, almost beyond thought, her neck arched back and her mouth open as he fucked little gasping cries from her lips. Gods his cock was so perfect, so hard, so big inside her. He always fucked her in the best possible way, hitting that spot, making her see stars.

“Time,” he growled, grinding his hips into hers. “It will buy me time to find out who wants to fuck with me—“ and yes, gods, this was the gladiator king, the brilliant military mind that she’d warred against for years “—and I will end them.”

He thrust, pressing a hard finger on her clit, and Sylvanas felt herself fall apart, screaming and bucking in his arms, clenching around his cock until she felt him jerk and pump his seed into her, flooding her cunt until he leaked out of her.

They clutched at each other, after, gasping for breath. Eventually Wrynn tilted her face up and kissed her lazily, his tongue licking at her lips.

“So,” Sylvanas panted, “I am to be a pawn in your games, then?”

Wrynn smirked. “Hardly, angel. You can be nothing less than a queen.”

Oh, Sylvanas thought as she traced a scar on his face with gentle fingers, the one that she had carved there herself with one of her arrows, if you only knew

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Mage Quarter
Stormwind
Alliance Territory

Cora Carstairs finished reading the missive in her hands and promptly threw the offending stationary to the ground. But even as she shut her eyes the words refused to fade from her sight: ‘the king seems unusually enamored,’ ‘ordered the servants to defer to her,’ ‘presented the Lady Emma formally and with precedence…’

Hate could not even begin to describe the ugly, twisting feeling taking root in her gut.

How dare she. How dare this bitch, this unknown guttersnipe, think that she can just waltz in and take what Cora had been working towards for a decade!

The queen’s crown was meant for Tiffany! The House of Wrynn was supposed to ally to the Carstairs—not some nouveau riche interlopers!

She bit her thumb and calmed herself: all was not lost. The king was just indulging himself in a bit of play with a light skirt… like all men, he was temporarily blinded by some slut’s easy cunt. The novelty will pass, surely…

But it wouldn’t hurt to help it along.

First, she needed to find out everything about this bitch. Quickly she began to pen a letter addressed to Iren Moonswallow in Rut’theran. The Night Elf owed her a favor, and would certainly be able to tell her everything about the girl’s stay in Darnassus.

Emma Grey would rue the day she ever thought to make an enemy out of her.

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