The Merciless Alpha(erotica)

Tavorwen and Creadean walked from the entry of the home they shared with their master.

“You think he can do it?” Tavorwen asked Creadean.

Creadean spread her hands, walking toward the barracks where the applicants she had been given stayed. They had split the potential battle maidens based on skill sets. Tavorwen would claim those more suited to direct combat, and she would take those better suited for tracking, scouting, surveillance and ambush.

“Who are we to tell him what he can and can’t do?” Creadean mused. “Can you think of a single thing he’s done that he has not done with great success? He was left to choose matrons on his own, and claimed some of the most promising applicants and the one matron we questioned just saved his life. He has turned two battles into resounding wins for us, and now seeks greater power to turn the tide fully in our favor. The Gods themselves appeared to bless our union, by the heavens!”

Creadean looked toward the setting sun. “We know as little of him as he knows of us, if not less.”

Tavorwen sighed, she hoped her worries didn’t bother Master Thomas overly much. “I just worry he is going to push himself too far and we’ll lose him.”

“Then we must be ready to catch him when he falls.” Creadean asserted.

“You’re right… You’re right.” Tavorwen conceded. “Very well, I will start with the Silver Ivy barracks, then I’ll go check the Bronze Maple. Between the applicants of those barracks I should be able to get my maidens.”

“I will start with Red Wolves. They may not be as respected as the Golden Stags and Azure Eagles, but I’ve had my eye on one of their maidens for a while. She didn’t apply, but… I think she’ll be the best. Then I can check on the applicants from the Stags and Eagles.” Creadean explained.

“Oh, what maiden is this?” Tavorwen pressed.Nôvel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.

“Her name is Risavis. She may be the most promising scout I’ve ever seen.” Creadean explained. “She struggles with people and I fear she allowed that to prevent her from applying.”

“Well, if you think she is the right choice… go. Master Thomas needs the best.” Tavorwen asserted.

“Oh, she isn’t the best yet.” Creadean replied, “But she has all the markers, and her current mentors don’t seem to recognize it.”

“Well, good luck. Happy hunting.” Tavorwen wished her, and headed to her old barracks. She had maidens to recruit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke early the next morning. Lymarith was still sleeping peacefully, so I had to carefully slip from the bed, being careful not to let the heat escape the bed. I grabbed my clothes and slipped into the front room, just in my two piece undergarment.

The house was still, the sun wouldn’t be rising for an hour yet.

I began to stretch. PT, physical training, had slipped the last couple of days, and I couldn’t afford to not be at my peak for the next couple of days. I could feel a surprising difference in how limber I was. While I was personally invested and I would protect my elven friends, and my new elven family, it was as though every time I started to stress about it, or it seemed to start affecting me, that strange cool calming peace would wash over me and the stress would just be gone. And it turns out, while stretching and exercising was great for stress relief, your performance was better if you came in without the stretch.

I found myself stretching further, holding longer, and feeling better than I had doing my morning PT on my last day on Earth.

The actual exercises went better too. I didn’t push myself but I wasn’t feeling pushed, exceeding the limits of my normal workout. I usually did a hundred pushups, but I called it at two hundred, my arms and chest hardly feeling it. Crunches, mountain climbers, pull-ups using one of the convenient branch-like structures that crisscrossed the ceiling, burpees, it didn’t matter, I could bust them out. Sure I was sweating, and I could feel that my muscles were being worked, but it was as though my old limits were mere suggestions now.

I kept going until every muscle group on my body felt primed. One perk about military life was you learned a variety if strange exercises that used weird muscle groups, because when you fucked up those were some of the training instructors favorite punishments. Especially in basic training. AIT, advanced individual training, wasn’t so bad, but after that… Everything was trying to weed out the weak. Getting into the special forces was no cakewalk. Now I was wracking my brain for every tidbit, advice, tip and trick I could to prepare for the coming engagements.

I went to the bathroom and found a surprisingly simple, almost modern, bathing setup. A single tap let out room temperature water, filling the tub deep enough for me to easily submerge. I used the same trigger word as for my rifle’s ice bullets, and felt the water cool. A second repetition chilled it further, and I repeated it until it was a good ice bath. I personally preferred warm baths, but the benefits of a cold bath had long been established.

I finished my bath, then dressed, coming into the main living areas just as Diamiutar came out to start breakfast. She was just finishing putting her hair up and out of her way, when she startled, realizing she wasn’t alone.

“Oh, Master… How long have you been awake?” She asked with concern. “You know you could have woken me and I would have prepared your meal.

“It’s nothing to worry about. I just have some before breakfast routines I need to keep up. Keep in tip-top shape so I can continue to function at the highest level.” I assured her. “I can’t let myself slip.”

I sat in the dining room, leaning my rifle within easy reach. Watching Diamiutar make a simple breakfast of toast, eggs, and some simple fruits and berries. I asked her about the various ingredients and what they were called. Some, the translation magic could directly translate; strawberries, razzberries, oranges, and wheat; others had no clear analog. Fasja, Otori, Nahavai, and Gahli were all new fruits to me. Fasja was incredibly sweet, almost sickeningly so, and soft and fleshy, almost like a pear. Otori was sour and reminded me of the texture of raspberries. Nahavai was bitter with a tangy undertone, but the texture reminded me of mango. Gahli was a flavorful fruit that made your mouth tingle, with a fibrous texture like a pineapple. When paired together they made amazing combinations. For example, Fasja mixed with Nahavi mellowed Fasja to a more pleasing level of sweetness and the Nahavi’s bitterness was softened to allow the undertones to really shine.

The other matrons trickled in, with Creadean and Tavorwen coming in last. Highly notable was the fact that Narusil was not wearing the traditional matron gown. Instead she wore a robe, belted at the waist and flowing to allow free movement. A tome hung from her belt. It was clasped to keep it closed with thick leather covers. One shoulder of her robe had a leather guard of some kind.

“I hope you weren’t out too late.” I worried. I needed them to guide me. If my sense of urgency had made them work late into the night and they weren’t functional today, I’d have shot myself in the foot.

“Later than I usually retire for the evening, but well within my capabilities.” Tavorwen assured me.

“Still turned in early compared to when I’m on the trail.” Creadean shrugged.

I sighed in relief.

“How did it go?” I prodded.

“My three have put in their transfer requests to their commanding officers and I gently informed them of the urgency involved.” Tavorwen replied, taking a bite of her well done eggs.

“It took some convincing for one of them, but all three of mine have put in their requests as well.” Creadean assured me.

I nodded, “You think they’ll be able to function as a squad, having just met today?”

The two exchanged a glance, “Master Thomas… Maidens who chose to become battle maidens start training from the age of sixty…. These maidens have all worked together before in the sixty years they have been training.”

I could accept that.

“Alright, well. I think the first thing I need to do is go tell General Jakarah my plans. Then this afternoon we’ll see how Durithana is progressing with my new weapons.” I explained, “If all goes well, we’ll be looking to begin our operation after that.”

I glanced at Tavorwen, “Are battle maiden transfer requests ever denied?”

Tavorwen chewed and swallowed, “It has happened. It is rare, but has happened. I doubt you’ll be denied, however, as you’ve shown to be an incredible asset. The fact that Durithana was put at your beck and call says volumes.”

I could believe that assessment.

“Let me accompany you. I want to see your weapons work and get an idea how best to help you.” Narusil asserted.

“As you wish.” I acquiesced.

Breakfast finished with little other discussion.

Walking out the door, the same great horned owl that Narusil had used to send her message yesterday landed on the leather reinforced shoulder.

My matrons guided me, not to the amphitheater of the elders, but to a bur oak elven building. The guards let us in and guided us to a room where Jakarah sat at a desk, seemingly grown into the very room and then only moderately modified.

“What can I help you with, Ranger Thomas?” Jakarah asked, opening another message scroll.

“I just wished to inform you that I plan to make aggressive moves against El’muth’ran. I don’t think I will completely clear the fort, but if we don’t put the shadow elves on the defensive, they’ll come with an army I can’t just chase off by killing a few of their beasts.” I declared.

Jakarah stopped. Her eyes lingering on the last words she was reading.

“How large a force are you planning on committing to this effort?” Jakara demanded. Her eyes still locked on the scroll.

“Just me, my three matrons here, and any of the six battle maidens that have been requested that are approved.” I replied.