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Truth May Be Stranger Than Fiction - But Fiction Is More Fun
A collection of original work.
"Mission Infiltrate" (I love Yujiin!)
A/N: I loved writing this scene, though now I'm kind of stuck... how can you top a scene like this?
I'll have to think of something, so that the story can continue.
Enjoy!


She uncurled her stiff body slowly, yawning. The ground was so soft this morning. She opened one eye lazily, and her whole body went rigid. How could she have forgotten that she was in the middle of the elvish stronghold? How could she have let her guard down so much?!

A soft step on the stairs made her sit bolt upright, ears and horns laid back, teeth bared. She would not be caught with her guard down. Oh, no, they would not kill her that easily.

The elf from the day before entered the room, stopping short when he caught sight of her expression. He almost looked afraid.

When she realized who he was, she quickly rearranged her features into something that would – hopefully – make him more comfortable. Odd. Why should she want to make him at ease? She could get more information out of him if he was scared.

“Um… hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

“How’d you sleep?” The cheerfulness in his voice was forced.

“Very well, thanks.”

“…Um, I brought you new clothes.” Over his arm were draped some heavy-looking garments.

“I’m fine. Thanks for the offer.”

He looked uncomfortable. “Er… all guests are to wear new clothes.”

She narrowed her eyes, inspecting the folded garments. It was likely that they were breeches and tunic, in the elvish fashion. They would be hot, itchy, uncomfortable, and – worst of all – they would hinder her movement. She was perfectly fine in her own clothing, though it probably didn’t count by elvish standards. She was wearing the bare minimum: ruby-red pieces of satiny material over her breasts and groin.

But she supposed sacrifices had to be made. She couldn’t jeopardize her position.

Sighing, she climbed out of the warm bed, and pulled at the knot keeping her scanty covering on.

The elf cleared his throat.

She stared at him.

“Well… um, I’ll leave this here,” he mumbled, laying the clothing on the back of a chair, “…and leave you in private.”

She glimpsed his face as he turned away. It was bright red. She smothered a laugh.

It had been a long time since she had had privacy.

She tossed her top on the end of the bed – where it slid to the floor – and crossed the room to the chair. Picking up the tunic – she had guessed correctly, she realized with an internal groan – she ran her hands over it, feeling its weight. Probably made of linen, it was much heavier than she was used to. She was going to boil. She had to remind herself that sacrifices had to be made; her work was too important.

She donned the long-sleeved tunic… and immediately felt way too hot. Putting on the breeches was out of the question.

She poked her head out the door, coming face-to-face with the elf. He was still bright red. She took a few seconds to enjoy that – and to let him absorb her change in outfit.

“I can’t wear these,” she informed him, holding up the breeches for his inspection. His face got even redder.

“Um… why not?” he finally asked.

“They’re too hot,” she answered tartly. “I’m going to get heat stroke if I have to wear them.”

“It’s a requirement,” he said awkwardly. It was almost an apology. Strange.

“So do you have doctors who tend to demon captives?”

“…Er…”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Look –” he began.

She ignored him, walking back into her quarters, heading for the washroom. She knew he didn’t have enough self-control to leave her alone.

“Hey – Rakira –” he said, following her for a few uncertain steps.

It felt very strange to be addressed by a name she hardly remembered.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Yes?”

“Um…”

It amused her no end that he was so awkward.

“I could help you –”

“Hm?”

“- er – make that tunic into a – a dress.”

She hid a smile. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Hey! Don’t take it the wrong way!”

She couldn’t help laughing at him.

He spluttered indignantly. “You – I – this isn’t –”

“You’re funny.”

“Hey!”

“What?” she asked innocently. Playing with him was a lot of fun.

He was tongue-tied.

She smiled and then announced, “I’m going to take a bath.”

“Right. Have fun.”

She laughed. “Don’t let your imagination run away with you.”

“Hey!”

“I’ll see you later.”

“…I suppose.”

She faced him fully. “You’d let someone else take over guard duty?”

“Well… no.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“How do you do that?”

She flashed a wicked smile. “You’re very obvious.”

“Aw, come on!”

“I’ll see you later.” She smirked to herself as she turned away from him.

“Fine!” he grumbled.

She stifled a laugh.

After she was sure that he had retreated, she almost skipped over to the arch that led to the washroom. Peeking inside, she took in the room with its whitewashed walls with a kind of ecstatic greed. It was so beautiful, and not just because of the exquisite carvings decorating the walls.





 
 
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