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Guen	By : BatPhace Category: A through F > Forgotten Realms Views: 2844 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Forgotten Realms of any of the characters within, nor do I make any money from the writing of this

Chapter List
- 1-Guen
- 1
A/N: This is not beastiality, believe it or not. By def, maybe, but it's an elf not a human so..... Enjoy XD
Drizzt sat in his corner of the Underdark, the corner of it in which he had carved out a refuge, silent as always when he was alone, staring at the intricately carved onyx figurine for the umpteenth time that day. He knew that he should save the panther's strength, for he may come across another hook horror, for there had been many of late, or some other monster that he may need Guenhwyvar's help with. He knew also that it had not been quite long enough since the time he'd called her last. Still, Drizzt did not put the figurine away. The drow only stared, fingering the details of the carved muscles, the curve of the noble head, the coiled tension present in the cat's stance; a perfect replica of the true Guen.
Drizzt wanted so badly to call to his only companion, to bring her to the Material Plane so that he would have someone to talk to, someone else there at all! Some other living thing that was not an enemy, that he didn't have to defend against or escape from. Someone he could share his thoughts with, even if she could not speak she still seemed to answer him in her own manner. It was a desperation that had clawed at the dark elf for the better part the eight years he'd spent so far in the wilds of the Underdark; growing stronger and more insistent the longer he was left to his solitude. Drizzt had become the Hunter to survive, to keep his life and principles from ending at the hands of a monster or some other enemy lurking in the inky black caverns that were his domain. He would survive, above almost everything else he had to survive. This place was unforgiving, especially when it came to lapses in guard. As the Hunter, Drizzt had honed his skills, both battle strategy and evasion techniques, to a point as fine as that of either of the scimitars he kept belted to his slender hips. The Hunter was ever wary survival instinct and cold rationality, the embodiment of the warrior spirit. The Hunter could not, would not, allow himself to become distracted. The Hunter was impervious to these desperate, lonely emotions.
Drizzt Do'Urden, who remembered the warmth of companionship and the importance of contact, alone with himself and with no one but himself to fight, was not. Finally, with a sigh of resignation, Drizzt set the figurine down on the ground in front of him and whispered, "Come to me, Guenhwyvar."
The familiar mist appeared around the figurine, but as it swirled and grew Drizzt noticed the shape was not right. It grew too tall to come to form his panther friend. He drew his scimitars with a grimace, too late to flee and find a better vantage point, prepared to battle whatever foe would show itself, however it would come. A sliver of cold fear slipped into the drow's gut. He worried for Guenhwyvar. Had Briza found a way to interrupt Guen's travel to this plane, or perhaps enlisted a Handmaiden of Lolth herself? Had some other enemy found him, someone from House Hun'ett come to avenge the death of Masoj?
Drizzt's lavender eyes widened in amazement when before him, out of the mist, stood a beautiful woman in the place where his panther friend should have been. A beautiful, naked woman, in fact. Drizzt's eyes narrowed in suspicion and his muscles tightened within a hairsbreadth of striking. Something he could not explain held him back, staying his blades long enough to examine the woman closely.
She was not drow. Long black hair, darker than even the starless night of the Underdark that surrounded them, fell down past her shoulders, perfectly contrasting alabaster skin that glowed with an otherworldly quality. Lean toned muscles gave the woman a svelte beauty. The strange woman stepped forward and on instinct Drizzt's scimitars came up defensively, though her presence did not truly alarm him, he realized. She glanced at the swords and continued her step to Drizzt's side, even that simple movement containing a feline grace that again spoke of another world. He stared at her face, soft yet angular cheekbones and jaw whispered of elven features, and when he finally met her eyes his own widened in disbelief. To Drizzt's startled surprise, very familiar, too large, too intelligent yellow eyes stared back at him.
The woman spoke, her voice a low purr that soothed Drizzt's shock, "But, do you not know me, my master?" The woman's language was not that of drow elves, but Drizzt understood every syllable; a trait of Astral Beings, he knew from his studies at the Academy. Drizzt understood then, truly comprehended the sight before him, and dropped his scimitars as if they had become red hot, sitting up straight as a stalagmite as the woman sat beside him with a radiant smile.
"Guenhwyvar? But how? How are you..." his words seemed clumsy to him, and came with difficulty, another drawback of constant solitude.
She smiled again, a bit of mischief in her expression. "You assume you know all the secrets of the figurine then? And the magic of the Astral Plane? Every thousand summers, for one calling and one alone, I may appear on this Plane in the form of my own choosing." She spread her arms out wide, smiling still, indicating the woman's body that she now held. “Stardust and spiritmist, black hair of course, and I admire your long hair and so chose it for this body as well. I chose elf-inspired features to be more familiar to you, and I approximated the height and weight, and the size of... well...” she looked down toward her chest, to her softly curved and supple breasts, and looked back up at Drizzt with absolute pride, “Is it not pleasing, my master?”
Drizzt took a deep breath. “Indeed,” was the only answer he could muster as he exhaled hard. Drizzt did admire the body Guen had chosen for herself. In fact, he noticed she was his mirror opposite in almost every facet; skin, eyes, hair, even sex. Her skin reminded Drizzt of the one time he had ever seen starlight. That body was certainly something beautiful to look upon, but the woman grabbed at Drizzt on a primal level as well, and would not let him go. He seemed drawn to her viscerally. Clearly reading her drow master's reaction, Guenhwyvar's smile became one of obvious self-satisfaction. She seemed about to purr, and Drizzt thought about all the times he had seen that very expression in her yellow saucer eyes after mauling some unfortunate monster, or pulling Drizzt's backside out harm's way the few occasions when he had bitten off more than his fair share of battle. This truly was his companion, his beloved panther friend. Just... a different body.
“You are certainly beautiful, Guen. As always,” Drizzt whispered. Guenhwyvar shivered and though they had not actually changed color, her yellow eyes darkened subtly. She turned then, pushing the drow back by his shoulders, gentle but with no room for argument, not that Drizzt would have argued anyway had she given him half a chance.
She spoke very softly, with an almost predatory quality, her face close to his own, and her intense eyes boring into him."Over these years, I've found you my equal, in strength, in battle prowess, certainly in heart and beauty. But also, you have been kind to me, more so than any other master that has held the figurine. Nor do you take the title for granted.” Her nostrils flared as she inhaled deeply, holding Drizzt's lavender eyes with her own golden orbs. He noticed her eyes dilate infinitesimally and her pink tongue flicker just inside her lush lips before she continued. “I know that in your eyes I am not just a clever tool, a weapon. To you, I'm a respected friend. A trusted companion that you can count on. And you have no inkling of what that means to me. I've come to care for you as I've cared for no other master. And I know that you care for me too."
She touched Drizzt's face, running a feathery soft hand down the right side to cup his jaw, "You have been so lonely here in these darkened tunnels, my master.” Drizzt started to protest, to dispute her claim, but she silenced him with the flat look in her eyes. “I see more than you think. Much more. More even than you, I'd say. Though it is by your own choice, it makes me sad to see you suffer so,” the back of her other hand traced down Drizzt's left cheek, a soft caress that Drizzt found himself drawn into, “I only wish to ease that loneliness for a time. To return the kindness you've shown me with kindness of my own." Guen leaned forward slowly, and Drizzt thought she would kiss him, and what would he do then? He knew what he wanted to do, and what his body wanted him to do. But she caught Drizzt off guard when she nuzzled softly against his neck instead, wrapping him in her arms and pulling him close.
For the first time since he was a very small child, Drizzt's eyes prickled and his throat tightened. He chuckled inwardly as he restrained the tears he felt coming. He would have thought Malice and his sisters had beaten all the tears out of him decades ago.
He wrapped his arms around Guen, pulling her down into his sleeping furs with him before he could overthink the decision, and she sighed contentedly as she molded her body to his right side. Drizzt allowed himself to savor her warmth, the soft pressure of her body against his own, the feel of her hair tickling his hands as he stroked her back. Propped on one elbow, Guen ran one hand through his hair, fingertips dancing and making his scalp tingle; the other hand gliding over his chest, and she made a little sound of dissatisfaction.
“May I remove your clothes, my master? I would like to feel your skin, if I may,” she murmured into Drizzt's ear, flickering her slightly roughened tongue across the sensitive tip and causing a fierce shiver to rush through his body, converging at his groin. He gasped and Guen took that as a yes and set to pulling off the dark elf's mail and undershirt, obviously admiring what she found as she ran delicate fingertips across his muscled shoulders down to the plane of his chest.
“How did you know? About the ears? How do you know....”
Again Guenhwyvar just smiled, but it was a melancholy thing this time. “You would be amazed and revolted by the things I've been made to witness over my life. From your ilk especially.” Drizzt winced at that, but her fingertips stroking down his chest and stomach to the belt of his trousers made him put the thought aside. Her touch, the touch that was not a battle wound, or the hard hit of an enemy, the feeling of her naked skin against his own naked skin was all the thought he could hold at that moment. Stimulation of tactile senses long dormant. Drizzt found himself bowing into her soft hands, delighting in the shivers she caused across his skin. Such sensation. The contrast in color was almost shocking to him as he trailed his fingers down her shoulder. Guen's luminously pale skin was cool and soft, with an almost airy texture that he'd never felt before. What had she said? Stardust and spiritmist? Indeed.
Guen sat up then, straddling his thighs and leaning forward to drape herself along his body, consequently trapping Drizzt's erection between them. Drizzt shuddered hard, closing his eyes and drawing every ounce of restraint to keep his hips from bucking into the weight of her. When he opened his eyes again, Guen's face was only inches from his own, framed by her onyx locks that almost blended in with Drizzt's skin as it ghosted over his chest, and her eyes held joy and contentment. He had seen that look before as well.
Guenhwyvar brought her arms up and pushed her fingertips gently into the drow's moonlight hair, pulling just a little while caressing his scalp and moving down to his face, sending a delicate tingle raging straight down the drow's spine. She traced her fingertips along the lines of his brow, and around his eyes, noting the primal fire that had budded in the purple orbs. Guen traced his lips, his jaw, sitting up to pull her fingers down his throat, feeling the thrumming beat of his blood, his life force, just beneath the surface and shuddering herself. Drizzt's hands were drawing swirling patterns across the silken flesh of her back and sides, all the way down to the curve of her hips. He liked that curve, he decided. Like the curve of a scimitar blade. Drizzt kneaded his fingers into the firm muscle there before moving back up her sides as she sat up fully. He looked up, lavender eyes searching for gold, and found profound desire. The look captivated Drizzt. Guen's hands continued down his chest, dragging her nails gently over the tight muscles of his stomach, leaving shivering flesh in her wake and making the dark elf gasp aloud.
Her hands paused at the junction of torso and thigh, fingers barely playing with downy white curls. “May I touch you, my master?” Her voice rang with a primal yet melodic tone.
Drizzt's answer hissed through clenched teeth, “Yes.” The sight of Guenhwyvar's pale hands so close to the coal black flesh of his erect member sent a shiver across his spine that shot out to each finger and toe. That shiver turned to an electric current in seconds as Guen's hands and fingers teased Drizzt to the brink of rapture a dangerous number of times. Drizzt felt an expanding pressure begging for release, and his body was eager to comply. The next moment, Guen thrust forward and impaled herself with a shuddering moan onto Drizzt's manhood. His shock gave way to a burst of pleasure so intense it exploded through him and then out of him in one great cry. He couldn't hold back. It had happened so fast!
Lost and stunned still, Drizzt noticed that Guen was moving her hips gently, keeping his spent member interested while his brain recovered from his release. In a matter of moments, to Drizzt's ultimate surprise, he felt that wonderful pressure waxing in him again. Guen's slow rhythm brought the dark elf fully hard, and her head fell back with a low purr as he filled her. Drizzt had no doubt that she was enjoying herself, but he reached up and stroked her left nipple gently, feathering his fingertips across her breast. She quickened the pace of her hips, enough to make Drizzt groan again, and in turn Guenhwyvar purred a bit louder. On it went, escalating exponentially, until the pace was furious with growling punctuations in two different tones.
Drizzt tensed suddenly and sprang up and over -and later he would wonder how he'd managed it because the angle was impossible- and landed atop Guen without disengaging and hardly missing a beat as he took control. Guenhwyvar willingly submitted to her master. The last she would ever have, she secretly hoped.
Drizzt pumped hard, feeling that coiled tension in her muscles, hearing the primal edge in her moans and growls. The sweet hot pressure was surging through him, warming every cell, and tightening every fiber like a bowstring. His whole body seemed to throb as it took over, and the drow pumped hard and fast, pulling at her hips as he felt Guen nearing her own climax. With a carnal cry reminiscent of a great cat, the woman came, every muscle tensing at once, and her inner muscles pulsing around Drizzt's manhood. Already so close, that was the last before Drizzt followed suit, careening into an eruption of pleasure so intense it spilled over into Guen and she came a second time. It seemed it would never end as they rocked, feeding the pleasured fires of each other.
And then Drizzt's body gave out. The drow collapsed to the side of the woman, noticing her hands over her forehead and her chest heaving with ragged gasps that matched his own. They lay for nearly an hour, soaking each other in and reliving the experience they had shared in absolute detail to deepen the memory. It was one worth keeping and keeping well in a long lifetime full of them.
They spent their remaining hours touching, laughing and reminiscing on previous battles, in which Drizzt was particularly interested to get his normally silent friend's view of things. He had so very many questions for her, and wasted no time in getting his answers. It was the most companionship that could be packed into so short a time. They knew though that the hours had a limit, for Guen had started to lag under the strain of keeping herself on the Material Plane. Especially considering her activities. Not battle, surely, but deliciously exhausting nonetheless.
Guenhwyvar's contented smile turned severe suddenly as she regarded her master. “I will do everything in my power to ensure that I never leave your side. You are the one who showed me that power and you have my word.” She lowered her voice to a velvety murmur, pressing her body against Drizzt's own, “And you had better stay alive another thousand summers, my master.” Guen leaned forward, and Drizzt expected the same nuzzle to his neck, but instead gasped as her full lips fell onto his in a fierce, fiery kiss that stole his breath. Drizzt nearly cried out when she just as suddenly pulled away; the only kiss they'd shared in their time together.
Again, Drizzt's eyes prickled, and again he restrained. “You will be safe in my hands, my beloved, noble friend,” he swallowed hard, “Now go rest, my Guenhwyvar, my shadow. Go home.”
And with that she was mist.
And then she was gone.
~~~~~~~}==0 0=={~~~~~~~
Two days later, the Hunter was on the trail of a band of thieving goblins and their prizes from his herd of rothe. The pitiful creatures were already dead, but the Hunter could not let the encroaching goblins go unpunished. He had circled around, knowing well these tunnels so nearby his refuge, and found a place ahead of them where the ways bottle-necked and he could set up an ambush. He would need Guenhwyvar to pull it off. Already in position, Drizzt pulled the figurine from his belt pouch, setting it down, and called quietly but anxiously to the cat. The mist came swirling around the figurine, momentarily solidifying into the great panther, already alert from the tone of her master's call. Guenhwyvar looked to Drizzt, caught his eyes with her own yellow saucers, and just for a moment Drizzt saw that ever confident smile again just before she leapt the thirty or so feet of empty space to the ledge across from him. Right where he'd intended to position her for the ambush, she landed with perfect grace and nary a sound, ready for the attack.
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