“How do I free you?” Harou asked.  Brise blinked, taken aback.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“I am a slave, I can be bought, for the right price.”

“How much?”

“I don’t know.  You would have to ask my master.  I don’t know if he’d be willing though.”

“I can be pretty convincing,” Harou said with exaggerated swagger, winking at Brise.  Brise laughed aloud and pinched Harou’s nose.

“I don’t want you to convince him the way you convinced me!  Neither of you deserves the other,” he said, shaking his head.  Harou chuckled.

“I would never,” he said.  “I have more than my animal magnetism,” he joked.  Brise snickered, and with great reluctance, he pulled away from Harou.  He gently set the lycan’s legs down.

“Hold on, there’s things to clean up in the vanity,” he said, sounding tired.  Harou wasn’t sure if he was worn out from the sex, or if the tiredness in his voice was actually resignation over the fact that sex happened in this dressing room often enough to warrant supplies for cleaning up after being stored here permanently.  Harou decided he shouldn’t ask that right now, for his own peace of mind.

Brise returned a moment later with two bottles and two cloths.  He handed one of each to Harou.

“The bottle is a gentle soap diluted in water.  It doesn’t foam up, so you can use it to clean up without needing to rinse it off when you’re done,” he explained.  Harou nodded and set about cleaning himself up while Brise did the same.  Brise took the cloths and deposited them in a tall, skinny wicker basket with a lid.  Harou guessed it was a hamper specifically for rags, and felt a little uncomfortable that such a thing was needed here.

“Hmn,” Harou grunted slightly as he stood up and put his shed clothes back on.  He winced just slightly, but Brise saw it.  The sylph quickly went to Harou’s side, his face a mask of concern.

“Are you alright?  Did I hurt your leg?” he asked, worried.  Harou smiled at him and held back a chuckle.

“I’m fine, it’s normal.  And my leg hurts only as much as it always hurts; you didn’t make it worse.  You’re just a bit more endowed than one would expect from someone as slender as you,” Harou said.

“Oh,” Brise blushed, “Th-thank you, no one has ever complimented me like that, even though I’ve been larger than most of my partners in the past.  Goblins…” he shrugged.

“I’m not surprised,” Harou replied with a humorless chuckle.  He pulled Brise into a hug.

“I’m sorry,” Brise said, his voice muffled against Harou’s chest.

“Don’t be.  Nobody will notice me walking funny when I’m already on a crutch,” he joked.

Brise pulled back his expression thoughtful.  He pondered in silence for a moment, his gaze fixed on where their pelvises touched in the hug.

“Um, Brise, are you alright?” Harou asked tentatively after a moment.

“Y-yeah, sorry.  I was just thinking… you’re significantly more endowed than I am, and far bigger than any partner I had in the past.  No matter how well you prepare me, I would still be sore for a while if you fucked me,” he said.

“Ehm, probably,” Harou agreed hesitantly.  “But if you only want to have sex like we did just now, I would be fine with that.  You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, especially if it would hurt,” he said, concerned.

Brise laughed and waved him off.

“No, no, I was thinking the opposite actually!” he said.  He laughed again when he looked at Harou’s confused expression.  “Remember what we talked about early?  About me being hurt in order to get my master to leave me alone?” he prodded.

Harou’s eyes widened and he blushed deeply.  He understood now where Brise was going with this idea.

“O-oh, you want me to fuck you so you’ll be legitimately hurt, without purposefully messing up your performance,” Harou said.  Brise nodded, his blue eyes bright.

“You got it, soldier boy!  Tonight, after my last show, I want you to fuck me until I can hardly walk!” he growled, pulling on Harou’s shirt collar aggressively and speaking directly into Harou’s ear.  Harou felt as if his face must actually be on fire, he was blushing so hot.  He’d never had a bedmate so forward.  His heart beat erratically, and his spent cock twitched.

“You’re insatiable,” Harou told the sylph with a nervous chuckle.

“I didn’t think I was, this morning,” Brise said softly, gazing into Harou’s eyes with admiration.  “See you after my last show, lover,” he said, voice husky.  Harou gulped, and decided to make his retreat before his cock convinced him to stay.

On his way out, Harou checked the show times.  He would come back for Brise’s last show.  In the meantime, he needed to return to his main objective.  He felt more motivated now than even before, thinking of the sex positions he and Brise could enjoy if his leg was cured.

Harou wandered the colorful tents and bustling stalls of the goblin market, seeking out apothecaries and purveyors of potions and magical remedies.  One of the first places he came to in his wanderings that might offer what he needed, was a tent adorned with mystical symbols, its entrance flanked by vials and jars filled with various concoctions. The sign above the tent read ‘The Alchemist's Haven.’

Entering the tent, Harou found himself surrounded by shelves stacked with potions, herbs, and mystical artifacts.  It was quite chaotic, and Harou felt like he would never be able to find anything in here on his own.  He supposed that might be the point.  It’s probably hard to steal something from this place if you can’t find what you want to steal.  Only a fool would steal a potion without knowing what it did, he thought.  He had no doubt the owner of this establishment had no trouble finding anything.  There was a clear method to the madness, though Harou had no means to discern it.

Harou made his way to the counter, where the owner awaited.  The woman was an elf, but appeared very old, with a wizened face and graying hair.  Her eyes were a deep navy blue flecked with silver, and gave the impression that she held centuries, if not millennia, of mystic knowledge.  The lycan was impressed.  Elves were nearly immortal, and elders were very rarely seen outside of elven cities.  To visibly look so old, she must’ve been truly ancient.  He supposed she could be a young elf disguising herself as ancient, both to seem more knowledgeable in her craft and to make the ignorant customers underestimate her.  Harou decided he would accept her appearance at face value, but maintain a wariness and not underestimate her.

“Welcome, young pup.  Are you here about that leg?” she asked, her voice rough but strong.  Harou blinked a bit, surprised despite himself that she so easily determined his race.

“Um, yes, as a matter of fact,” he said politely.  “The venom from a poison drake lingers in my leg long after the bite has healed.”

“Mmm, yes, it’ll do that,” the elven woman nodded.  She pulled a book out from under the counter and began thumbing through it.  “I don’t have anything in stock for that, but I believe I have a recipe for an elixir that would help.  Most do not survive encounters with such monsters, you know.”

“I…” Harou hesitated, thinking of his decimated unit.  “Y-yeah, I know.  Even the other lycans who fought it with me didn’t make it.”

The old woman nodded as she continued flipping through the pages.  Harou waited, shifting his weight to alleviate the pain in his leg from standing still too long.

“Ah, yes.  Here it is,” the woman said, stopping on a page.  Harou peered down at the book, but he couldn’t read it.  He knew enough to recognize elven script, and he had a strong hunch it was written in a cipher.

“Can you make it?” he asked tentatively.  The elder elf looked up at him with narrow eyes.