Lucene dreamt. She dreamt of her past, of her princess, of the nights they would share together. It was strange, she was at once in a liminal dreamspace, surrounded by fleeting fragments and flashes, while simultaneously experiencing each moment as though it were the first time. Something brushed along her mindscape; a presence which she somehow knew was outside her own. It caressed her thoughts tenderly, leafing through her memories and prodding her to spread her mind wide. It lingered, watching intently all the things unfolding around it. An air of consideration, ponderance lingered in the not-air around Lucene as she was laid bare and examined. Just as she felt herself begin to understand something was off, something was wrong about all this, the presence coalesced. Like two grasping hands, it plunged into the heart of Lucene’s mind, seized a chosen memory, and dove right in, taking Lucene with it. 

 

* * *

 

There was only one place which Lady Lucene felt she could truly relax; it was within her princess’ bedchamber, behind closed and locked doors. There, the pressures and expectations of duty and appearances fell away, and the two women could freely express their familiarity and friendship. Just because she could relax, however, did not mean Lady Lucene always would; it never came easily. Out of habit, she stood at rigid attention, just to the side of the doorway, eyes forward. It was very important that she keep her eyes forward; if she did not, Lady Lucene might catch a glimpse of Princess Izelle, who currently stood before her bed, back turned, removing her court clothes. And yes, they were both women, but it felt wrong, lurid, vulgar to look. Lady Lucene knew well the sort of feelings such a sight would stir in her. She had caught many a lord, mostly old and lecherous men, staring longingly at her princess. The idea that she might be anything like them made Lady Lucene nauseous. 

 

Lost in thought as she was, Lady Lucene did not even notice her princess finish changing into her night clothes until Princess Izelle softly called to her. “Lucene, it’s safe to look now. It always was,” she said, a musical giggle ringing in her voice. Lucene nodded, and turned to face her friend. She wore a lovely, flowing purple nightgown which hugged her lovely body nicely, highlighting gorgeous femininity while casting an air of faux-innocence about her. And it was faux-innocence, behind closed doors Izelle was nothing at all like the prim and proper princess she presented to the court. 

 

“I am sorry, my princess,” Lucene replied, allowing her stiff shoulders to slacken ever so slightly. Izelle rolled her eyes and crossed the room, laying a warm hand on her cheek. 

 

“Was it bad, today?” she asked. “Those foreign dignitaries, I saw them approach you. They were murmuring under their breath as they left.” 

 

Lucene stiffened all over again, her mouth tightening. “It was nothing. They just hadn't ever seen a lady knight before. They asked if a woman truly could fit into armor so large, and then they… asked if I shared a bed with my comrades.”

 

It only took a moment, and the princess’ entire demeanor changed. She knit her eyebrows, her jaw set and her eyes narrowed; her fist clenched and unclenched as she took a slow breath then looked up to meet Lady Luence’s gaze. “I can’t fucking—no—that’s it. Armor off. Now.” 

 

At six foot three inches, Lady Lucene towered over most men. There were few she could not intimidate with the right look or pose. And yet, Princess Izelle, tiny five foot four waif of a thing, had her pinned with her back against a wall, nearly choking on her words. “Wha—bu—n—you can’t just. We’re not,” she sputtered.

 

Just a single quirk of a well manicured eyebrow, and her protest died in her throat. “Did you intend to sleep in your armor?” 

 

“Well, no, but so long as I am awake, I am on duty, princess. I had not intended on removing my armor until I retired to my chambers for the evening,” Lucene replied. 

 

A breathy chuckle disrupted the silence which followed, and Princess Izelle gave Lucene a sharp poke to the chest. “You know as well as I do how poorly that excuse holds. Regardless, you’re staying the night here.”

 

Sighing, Lucene shook her head. “Princess, we just did this a few days ago, we cannot do it again.”

 

“You intend to deny your princess her wishes?” Izelle asked.  “Is it not the case that as the head of my royal guard, your duties extend beyond simply my protection, and include providing me council, companionship and any other needs I might have within reason?”

 

Despite herself, Lucene could not fight the playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I simply think what you are asking falls outside the realm of ‘within reason.’ Besides, is it not the case that my duty to protect you takes precedence above all others?”

 

“So you admit that all the other nights we have indulged ourselves count as dereliction of duty?” 

 

Now it was Lucene’s turn to roll her eyes. “I suppose you are right, I am guilty.” 

 

Satisfied, Princess Izelle stepped back and crossed her arms, tapping her foot as she stared up at her night. “In that case, unless you want me to turn you in, you’ll do as I say and remove your armor so we can enjoy ourselves, will you not?”

 

Lucene nodded, sharing Izelle’s good natured smirk. “Well when you put it that way, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Finally relenting, Lucene gave her princess what she wanted. 

 

Freshly washed and unencumbered, Lucene lay still as she could atop Izelle’s bed while the princess ran delicate brush strokes over her cheeks. Izelle’s face was fixed in a look of intense concentration, her eyes locked upon her canvass. For the upteenth time, Lucene thanked every last goddess she could remember for the makeup which at least somewhat masked her deep blush. Even so, keeping still under such an intense, focused gaze from such a lovely face proved impossible. An errant squirm caused gentle bristles to tickle Lucene’s nose, and, try she may, she couldn’t hold back a sneeze.  

 

An amused giggle rang musically from Izelle’s throat, and Lucene found herself quite glad that she’d already turned away to sneeze. It would be hard not to look upon such a beautiful woman with anything but adoration after that. “Sorry,” Lucene chuckled. “Ticklish.”

 

“That’s alright, I’m about done anyway. Want to see?” Izelle plucked a pearl-handled hand mirror from her bedside table and passed it to Lucene. She took a moment to admire her princess’ work. The makeup was subtle, expertly applied, and, by this point, quite familiar. Lucene knew this look, she’d seen it many times; that didn’t change her appreciation. It was comfortable. “You really are gorgeous, Lucene.” 

 

A low chuckle rumbled in her belly. “Yeah, I know.” Her eyes darted from her reflection to Izelle. “Thanks for taking the time to remind me.” 

 

“Of course,” Izelle replied. She leaned toward Lucene, crawling forward til the two were side by side and face to face. Her fingers gently traced Lucene’s body, along strong, taut muscles encased in soft, regal silks. They were certainly a step up from the coarse cotton shirt and trousers Lucene wore under her armor. Their eyes locked, and Izelle inched closer, close enough that Lucene could feel her breath hot against her cheeks. “My dashing knight,” she purred, fingers tracing the curve of Lucene’s hip. Without warning, she pressed her lips to Lucene’s in a chaste kiss. It was hardly their first, and ladies of the court sharing a quick kiss among friends was far from unheard of, but Izelle was the princess, and Lucene could never keep herself from melting at the feeling of Izelle’s soft skin against hers. She felt a familiar stirring in her loins, and prayed Izelle would not notice the way Lucene’s eyes lingered on the pout of her lips, or the curve of her breasts. 

 

Forcing herself to focus on literally anything but the feelings which bubbled up inside her, Lucene averted her gaze, she clenched and unclenched her fist, mentally running through sword drills in her mind. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand rest on her inner thigh. Lucene gasped, and looked back to her princess. Something had changed about the girl. A look twinkled in her eye, intense, desperate, urgent. Her face was flush with heat, her lips parted, breath heaving in her chest. 

 

“There is so much I wish to give you, my brave knight” she whispered. Izelle’s free hand rose to her shoulder, slipping off the strap of her nightshirt, causing it to fall away and reveal the creamy, milky flesh of her breast. It was impossible to look anywhere else. “You wish to touch me, don’t you?” Something was different about Izelle’s voice. It lacked its usual playful, but refined lilt. There was a neediness to it, a whiny, desperate pleading that begged Lucene to seize Izelle by the shoulders, tear off her clothes and take the prize within. And oh, how desperately she wanted to do just that. To let instinct take over and claim her hero’s reward. 

 

The thought struck Lucene; she recoiled at the realization of what she’d just imagined herself doing. It had come so unbidden, so inelegant. How could she ever think of her treasured friend in such uncouth terms? Before she had a chance to consider that line of thought any further, Lucene found her attention called back to her bedmate as the girl before her gripped Lucene with her thighs, and pulled the young knight into another kiss. This, however, was not one of chaste, shy, soft kisses Lucene had grown used to. Their lips crashed together, open mouth meeting open mouth. Reflexively, Lucene grasped the girl beneath her by the shoulders, pressing her down into the bed and forcing her tongue into her mouth. 

 

An irresistible urge built within her. The urge to take, to use, to satisfy all of her most carnal desires. Lucene’s hand found the soft, yielding flesh of her partner’s breast, and with greedy abandon she squeezed and kneaded, rolling her thumb over the girl’s nipple as the pair began to rock into one another. Hunger burning in her loins, Lucene grabbed the delicate, silken fabric shielding her prize with both hands and tore. She hardly heard the tearing sound over the chorus of wanton moans above her as she buried her face into soft, creamy flesh. Her body surged with need for more, always more. Just as before, Lucene tore away the fabric covering her conquests’ lower half, exposing a glistening, ready sex. She did not need to be told what to do next.

 

Her fingers slid easily into the girls slit, and Lucene ground her own sex into her conquests’ thigh. All around her, eager, lustful maidens stroked and fawned over her, praying for an ounce of her attention, desperately wishing that they would be chosen next. And they would; Lucene would have all of them. Each and every last girl was there for her. Her champion’s reward, the prize for serving her queen well. Thrusting and grinding her whole body against the sweet little bed girl before her, Lucene coaxed a delightful tune of pleasure and submission from between those soft, pillowy lips, parted in a breathless expression of hedonistic want. Overtaken by the need to claim those lips as her own once more, Lucene grasped the girl by the chin and forced her to look upon her champion. Their eyes met, and Lucene froze. She had never seen this face before. 

Suddenly, her stupor was broken. This girl was a stranger. Who was she? What had happened? Where had Princess Izelle gone. The mere mention of that name in her mind lit a fire in Lucene’s mind, one which burned away the haze of primal lust. This was wrong, all of this was wrong. She knew this memory, it did not go this way. More importantly, her princess was in danger. Izelle had been taken and she needed rescuing. She had been tracking the dragoness and then been hit over the head and—with a start, Lucene bolted upright and into befuddled, bewildered consciousness. 

 

A chorus of delighted gasps, coos, giggles, and the splashing of warm water erupted around Lucene as she whirled about, in a wide-eyed panic. Tense and panting, she took in her surroundings. She found herself in a massive, opulent hall, seated within a tub the size of a small pond, made from polished obsidian and opal, the water inside was warm and floral scented. A steady stream of vapor rose from the surface, which was decorated with water-lillies, aquatic irises and a smattering of small, flowering trees. Candles and incense burned all around her, filling the dazzling, well lit room with a thick, heavy scent which made her head swim and vision blur. Lucene blinked hard, and shook her head, then opened her eyes once more. All around her were gorgeous women of all shapes and sizes, dressed in little-to-no clothing. They gazed up at her, smiling with wide-eyed infatuation and awe. 

 

A moment of awkward silence followed as she looked to each of them in turn, trying to understand what the fuck was going on, before deciding she was wasting her time and, with a start, stood suddenly. Another chorus of gasps and giggles came as she stood, revealing her nude form. They were accompanied by a yelp, which rang out behind her; Lucene realized only once it was too late that one of the girls had been actively scrubbing her back with a washcloth. She considered mumbling an apology, but was frankly at her wits end and far too suspicious of everyone and everything around her to bother with courtesies. Figuring out what the hell happened could come later, Lucene had more important things to worry about. She waded through the thigh-deep water, doing her best to ignore the constant din of giggles, whispers and sounds of women generally fawning over her as she trekked through the massive tub, toward the edge and the continuation of her quest. 

 

Just as she was about to haul herself onto the spotless polished tile floor below, one of the girls, a diminutive little waif with dark eyes and dark hair stepped in front of her. “Wait!” she cried, her voice edged with desperation and want. “You can’t leave. Mistress commanded us to tend to your needs, to give you a champion’s welcome. Don’t you want us to please you, miss? Such a brave, strong knight, you deserve all the attention and affection we can give you. Let us satisfy you, miss, use us, please?”

 

Lucene narrowed her eyes; a low growl rumbled in her throat. “I don’t know who your ‘Mistress’ is or what she wants with me, but I don’t care about her or her ‘champion’s welcome.’ I have a duty to fulfill, and a princess to save.” Despite her annoyance, Lucene could not bring herself to be truly cruel to an apparently innocent stranger, as such, she was sure to only gently push past the girl. She climbed from the tub, dripping water onto the surprisingly warm tile, and took stock of her situation. A few problems presented themselves immediately. Chief among them being Lucene was naked and unarmed, she had no idea where she was, and had presumably been brought here by the same person who had overpowered her and knocked her unconscious. If that entire fight had been some bizarre test, and this was supposed to be her ‘reward’ for passing it, she had neither the time, nor interest in these sorts of games. She whirled around, to face the girls. “Where am I? Where is my equipment? I have no time for these games.” 

 

The same girl who had addressed her before ran to the edge of the tub, and leaned over the edge as she gazed longingly out at Lucene. “We don’t know, miss. Mistress didn’t say, she just told us to make you feel welcome.”

 

Lucene groaned, and sighed, perhaps she should at least see if she could learn anything about the situation she’d found herself in before pressing on. “Who is your Mistress? I demand an audience with her.”

 

The girl nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, miss! Mistress had already planned on coming to visit you soon. She says you should be familiar with her. Most humans know her as the dragoness Tyranaxxia.”

 

Lucene felt her whole body lock up in fear. Had she already lost? Before she even had a chance to consider that question, the whole room shook as a gust of wind rushed through the room and the sound of beating wings drew near.