Flings and Arrows

By Andrea Trask

Half-elf Alleria, princess of her father's people, has agreed to travel with a human company led by dedicated paladin Swaen to fulfil an ancient prophecy affecting all the peoples of their world. They travel quickly, the impetuous young woman under their protection. None of them expected a thief in the night: Terrance, a man travelling alone who seems, in his own way, as dedicated as any of them to seeing the prophecy fulfilled.

Yet their romantic and physical entanglements - resulting from Swaen's intense focus upon his ward, Alleria's unabashed exploration of human sensuality, and Terrance's propensity for appearing out of nowhere in the night - may throw that fulfillment into jeopardy. Can they get Alleria where she needs to be in time, or will desire trump prophecy?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andrea Trask
• Release date: Jul 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310858291

Andrea Trask

Relentlessly cheerful and dedicated to the proposition that all people deserve happiness, Andrea picked up the name Bliss early in her college career, and it has stuck with her in the many years since to the point that she's far more likely to answer to it in a crowd.

Book preview

Flings and Arrows

by Andrea Trask

Published by Andrea Trask at Smashwords

Text Copyright © 2013 Andrea Trask

All Rights Reserved

Originally published in What Happens At The Tavern Stays At The Tavern edited by Jennifer Levine for Circlet Press.

Cover font: Unzialish, created by Manfred Klein.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and locations are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons or events, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

*~*~*~*~*

Dedicated to the Send Bliss Not Bombs donors

For helping send me far away

Table of Contents

Introduction

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

About the Author

Also By This Author

Introduction

The anthology in which this story originally appeared was born out of a very simple question – on epic fantasy quests, what exactly happens during the downtime? Around the campfire, at the tavern, under the waterfall, in what ways do the questers seek to alleviate the compounding stress of long journeys through strange lands under the weight of various prophecies?

And just how much of that is sex?

For Circlet Press, the answer quite naturally was lots! and out went the call for submissions. I began writing Flings and Arrows as a relatively short story, a single scene taking place in the woods whist the protagonists are stopped for the night. Yet as tends to happen for my best stories, there turned out to be much more than expected to not only the scene, but the sex, and the larger story encompassing them. The final story is triple the length, and of unexpected additional depth.

I may, at some future point, go so far as to write the epic fantasy quest of which this story is the behind-the-scenes, particularly since this story manages to blur the boundaries established by the original conception and call for submission. The behind-the-scenes of my behind-the-scenes seems discontent to remain hidden for long.

For now, however, I hope you enjoy this peek.

Andrea D. Trask

Flings and Arrows

One.

Given little other recourse for the evening, Alleria closed herself in her small tent and knelt to unlace the sides of the riding gown that kept her covered and relatively clean for the journey. One lantern flickered by the small bedroll that had been afforded her, giving her enough light to see as she folded her outer clothes into a neat pile to serve as a pillow. Too, it allowed her to carefully inspect herself; there was a smudge of dirt along the heel of her hand, and a few scratches upon the back of it and her wrist. It was from the thick underbrush they'd had to force their way through today, no doubt. She still did not entirely understand why they had taken a sharp turn off the fairly clear road two days ago, and started striking their way through the forest. Was that not why there were roads to begin with? So one needn't resort to such things?

There was a lot that she did not understand; the way that the small company of guards would only look at her sidelong, and not speak to her at all. Even Swaen, her gods-warrior companion (such as he was) seemed to avoid her, and she wondered if it were true that humans feared halfbloods, much in the way elvenkind looked upon them as something sweetly bemusing. One hand crept up to her elongated ear, delicately hovering over the upper end that was not quite the point one found among her father's people, and thence to her hair, stretching up to slip the ribbon out that kept her long auburn tresses plaited and then bound up into a loop, the less likely to be caught in the twigs and branches as she traveled.

Her green and yellow underdress billowed a little around her folded legs as she shifted on her bedroll to tend to her hair; fingercombing through, she plucked out a leaf here, a bit of twig there. It was tedious, feeling them out where she could not see, but she'd quickly discovered that despite her careful politesse, the several men now arrayed around the outside of her tent looked genuinely horrified at her request for assistance.

What in the world did they think was going to happen if they touched her?

She was resigned to the hope that when they got to wherever it was they were going, someone would see fit to enlighten her. For now, she did as she had the night before after Swaen made it clear there was no chance of staying the night in a tavern; twisting her hair into a long, loose plait, she stretched out and pulled the blanket over her. Linen and wool, it was thick and serviceable in its weight and warmth, yet she longed for the touch of the smoother blends left upon her bed at home.

Turning on her side, a twist of an outstretched hand doused the lantern,