Mild NSFW

The route through the Witling Forest to the foot of Velmund Drum was filled with cheers and laughter. For the crowds, that is. The Warlock's party were leading a sorrowful procession in comparison, despite the joy hemming them in on either side. 

The Counsel had passed out after Ursa's attempts at feeding him, and Fiepet had still not overcome his frustration with the so-called friends that allowed it to happen. The sooner he could find Delph and have the Warlock magick them back to Grunterbad, the better things would be.

Delph, as it happened, was in no rush to go home. 

It was difficult to continue averting his eyes for modesty's sake, when everyone around him was extolling Lyre's virtues as a dancer. Mistress Hen had been no less impressed, and was in danger of the wind changing, and living the rest of her life with the fixed grin that the performance had elicited. From peeking through his fingers to now applauding with the rest, Delph was beginning to enjoy himself.

So when the lake by Velmund Drum came into view and Lyre quickly abandoned her craft, he joined the others in their disappointment that the show had come to its end.

"Another! Surely?" cried a musician from behind, "You're barely out of the forest!"

"And here we must part," Lyre told him, "For it is here I must refresh myself. A happy onward journey to you all!"

Hen's smile had yet to fade when Lyre crouched down before them and explained it was time to leave.

"You were wonderful," said Hen.

"Of course I was," Lyre replied with a wink, "You were watching."

The trio jumped down from the cart a short distance from where the crowds had already formed by the roadside, eating and drinking their fill while they waited for the Warlock to make his appearance.

"Are you sure this is wise?" asked Hen, "There are many people here..."

"It would be more suspicious if the three of us were in search of a place to bathe in private," answered Lyre, "Here, no one will be looking; they care for nothing but their own business."

"We are going to bathe..?" asked Delph.

"See for yourself young master," said Lyre, directing him to get a better view of the water, "All manner of folk are here to play, clean, and cool themselves. But surely even you can see that none are divested of all their clothing? Despite the free-flowing wine, the subjects of the Madning Isle are not without their sense. None would dare appear in the nude with the Warlock and his bride on their way."

"But..." whispered Delph, "The bride... he isn't coming, is he?"

"It's no matter," said Hen, "Let the people enjoy their happiness. It is not every day that they have chance to steal a glimpse of the Warlock."

"Exactly!" Lyre declared, "Nor is it every day that people have an excuse to abandon their work and make merry. Let us make the most of it too! Come Master Delph, I wonder what you'll make of the waters in this world..?"

Delph's singular recollection of the river that brought them to the Madning Isle, was how it seemed to have a life of its own; throwing them around without a care as to whether their bodies drowned beneath its surface. The lake was bound to be more peaceful.

Aside from a few swimmers closer to the road, most of the citizens were sitting by the shore, or trailing careless fingers or toes by the water's edge. As predicted, none had any interest in the three newcomers making their way to the quieter side of the lake, furthest from the parade route. Beside a large group of boulders, Lyre and Hen removed their shoes, but Delph seemed hesitant.

"It's quite safe," Hen assured him.

"It isn't that," Delph replied, "It's just... all this water... I think it better I first, um... go and take care of something."

"Might I be able to assist you?" asked Hen.

"No! Um..."

"Go take a piss if you must," said Lyre, "But don't go too far that you lose sight of where we are. And do not remove you hood, you understand me? We're quite some distance from the Catary but there are travelers here from all over."

Delph nodded gratefully, sunk deeper into the folds of his cloak, and left to find a suitable place to relieve himself. Lyre wasted no time in his absence, stripping down to her chemise and submerging herself in the water, washing her body clean from the sweat of her spirited performance.

"Will you join me?" she asked Hen.

"Perhaps to cool my feet," Hen replied, "But I shouldn't like to dampen my gown."

"Then take it off as I have done," Lyre suggested, her arms casually wrapped around a boulder as she kicked her feet behind her, "You'll find it incredibly refreshing I'm sure..."

"I-"

The maid was clearly hesitant, and Lyre had no intent to force her; only to gently persuade her.

"If you're worried that Delphin Strahl might catch sight of you, then you should hurry and change before he comes back. Once under the surface there is nothing for others to see."

"I fear there would be plenty," Hen remarked, a glance at her ample bosom restrained by the fabric of her bodice, "This is far too public a place to-"

Lyre pressed her palms against the boulder and pushed her body up and out of the water, her wet and clinging undergarments adhering to her slender curves; the thin white chemise nearing complete transparency. Hen's mouth became drier than every other part of her. 

She should have told Lyre to cover herself, to hide her shame beneath the water, but Hen was transfixed. Two pale, pert orbs, much more delicate than her own; the hardened red-brown nipples like cherry pits. Between her breasts and down to the concave of her navel, a channel ran the length of Lyre's torso, just wide enough that Hen's finger could follow it. She traced it in her mind.

Arching her back, Lyre pushed her body further out of the lake, a dark tuft of unfathomable curiosity revealing itself beneath the gentle protrustion of her stomach.

"Are you sure, Mistress Hen?" asked Lyre, "That you wouldn't like to get wet with me..?"

If not for a sound to her left, Mistress Hen would have forgotten all decency and walked towards her fully clothed. Not once in her two hundred years had she found herself so seduced. 

"Please," she urged at the sound of another's footsteps, "Retreat once more into the water."

The charming blush on Hen's face was sufficient enough that Lyre complied with her command; returning to the safe embrace of the boulder as she plotted another opportunity to disarm her pretty companion.

Emerging from the trees beside them, it was not Delphin Strahl as they'd expected, but a pair of revellers, two men hoping to make the acquaintance of every young miss at the foot of Velmund Drum. Lyre and Hen were just what they'd been looking for. 

"Good day to you ladies!" tried one, "Do you mind if we join you?"

"Yes!" cried Lyre, rising dangerously from behind the boulder, "I mind plenty!"

Hen stepped protectively between them, subjecting herself to the men's gaze, diverted as it was to now travel across the shapely form before them.

"We await our friend," she told them plainly, "And have no desire to make any new ones. Continue on your way gentlemen, if you please."

Aware of Lyre's near-nakedness, Hen stood firm, her fist clenching in the folds of her skirt as she steeled her resolve to keep her from their undeserving sights. Lyre was charmed once more.

"Do not be so quick to dismiss us," tried the other, "We are all friends here! It is a day of celebration after all, let us not distinguish ourselves from each other when we share in the same joy."

"She told you to leave," said Lyre, obediently remaining behind her boulder lest she cause Mistress Hen discomfort.

"Ah," said the other, sensing her hostility towards them and breaking out into a snicker, "Are the two of you... together then? Close..?" 

His friend caught on with a knowing smile. "That explains why you don't want to play, but it's no matter. We don't mind watching. Why don't you tell your friend to come out of the water?" he asked Hen, "That you may show us just how close the two of you might be."

As he took a step towards the maid, a knife flashed at the corner of his eye, and then another. Two more followed in the vision of his friend, as Lyre's dolls surrounded them. The two men dared not move a hair lest the blades should cut them.

"I... I'm sorry," said one.

"I told you we should have stayed by the road!" said the other.

"Mistress Hen," purred Lyre, "Close your eyes my dear, and cover your ears."

"You won't-"

"Hush now and do as I say, or I'll step clean out of this water with every eye upon me."

Hen closed her eyes, and for extra measure, covered her ears as tightly as she could. Above the gentle hum of Lyre's dolls singing to mask the sound, Hen made out the cries of the men before they ran, desperate and stumbling as far as their clouded eyesight could carry them.

Two wet hands touched her own, pulling them down into a cool and clammy grasp.

"It's over and done," said Lyre, her unfastened gown clinging to her body, "Are you quite composed? Or is your heart beating as fast as mine?"

"Were you scared too..?" asked Hen.

"Oh terribly!" lied Lyre, "Can't you feel how frightened I was..?"

Guiding Hen's hand with her own, she fed it inside her open bodice, fingertips resting on her heart as the hardened nipple was cushioned beneath the warmth of her palm. Holding it in place against her breast, she reached across and touched a hand to Hen's chest in return; the firm and satisfying spring of her flesh giving way beneath Lyre's eager fingertips. 

"Are you sure I can't tempt you?" asked Lyre, "To undress? And cool off a little in the water? It might help in steadying your nerves, and my sisters can keep watch lest you fear another would interrupt us..."

Hen was tempted, her body buzzing with excitement as wet fingers slipped deeper inside her bodice.

"I'm so sorry I-"

Delphin was met with four angry women, clad in purple, and with ruby tipped daggers pointed suddenly in his direction. He raised his hands in supplication lest he anger them further.

"Master Strahl!" cried Hen, hurriedly retrieving her hand from Lyre's breast, and placing it behind her back as though to hide the evidence of its misdeeds, "You have returned!"

Lyre fastened her bodice and waved her dolls away, four knives clattering onto the stones below as their wielders disappeared.

"I'm sorry it took so long," said Delph, "I confess I got somewhat turned around as I was walking back. Did something happen in my absence? Was there the need for a man's presence?"

"A man's presence was precisely the last thing we needed," said Lyre, "Yet here you are."

"Oh," said Delph, "Ought I to go away again?"

Lyre's eyes lit up.

"No," reasoned Hen, "Mistress Lyre is simply teasing... I am glad you are safely come back to us. Why not remove your cloak now we are settled here, and come and sit by the water? I believe Mistress Lyre was keen to show you something."

"I was?" asked Lyre, confused for a spell that Hen had meant for her to disrobe again, before remembering their purpose. "I was!" she determined, "There is a rumor that foreigners to our land are able to find things in our waters that the citizens here cannot. Would you like to test the theory?" 

"What kind of things..?" asked Delph.

For two women who had never summoned the velvet water themselves, they were at a loss as to how to explain it. They could only hope that the witch's innate abilities would show themselves with time spent in the water.

"Oh," said Lyre, "Nothing bad... in fact... something like Mistress Hen's pocket realm I would expect! Can you show him? How it should feel?"

Hen nodded excitedly. It was certainly worth a shot. She politely offered her hand for Delph to take, then realizing why her fingers were still wet, exchanged it for the other. Lyre's annoyance that she should have to hold his hand at all, was quickly abated when witnessing so adorable a detail.

In the space between here and there, Hen led Delph's fingers to find the seam to her pocket realm; a strange ridge in the air that should not have existed. He felt it expand, marveling at the touch of the objects it held; things that had no business being found in the air around them.

"My goodness!" he cried, "How utterly bizarre! I can feel them yet they are not seen!"

Lyre smiled proudly at her ingenuity.

"Is this another cloak?" asked Delph, Hen allowing him to freely explore the magic that might unlock his own.

"No not a cloak," Hen told him with a laugh, "I should think it's the spare apron I thought lost!"

"And... oh, some coins too it feels like!"

"Aside from my cloak of travel there are only a few coins and pieces of jewellery I keep safe there," Hen explained.

"And a book," Delph pointed out.

Lyre's eyes darted to where the witch's hand met the pocket realm.

"A book..?"