gift-giver
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Gift Giver

Gift Giver

by looingforthis
19 min read
4.53 (15800 views)
adultfiction
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First is first, this story features no AI or AI help. This was all written using ye old creativity.

Second, this story has futa. Apologies for those of you who aren't into that.

Third, and most importantly, enjoy the story. :)

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The fires of war had settled, the smoke of desolation had cleared, the skies had little promise of incoming storms and the lands were not at war anymore.

20 years. 20 long years to war, bleed and cut stiff backs and arrogant eyes. The lords that populated the land were lesser now than what they had been 20 years ago, but the ones left willingly joined arms, and weapons, with them today.

Leisore had known many petty princes for a long time, but the title of "king" had long been vacant, and the crowns the lords wore too small to really fit the title.

But after 20 bloody long years, the crown had grown, the land unified inch by gory inch, and the lords once again gained their authority not from their might of arms.

But from the King's.

The whole world still laid broken beyond the lands that spoke a sensible tongue but, in Leisore at least, a first step had been taken in restoring glory that it had once known.

So it was, King Adze, first of his name, had called all of them together, his deadliest swords, his best warriors, as well as his ablest administrators and notable petty lords. Those who had dropped a knee to him dared not send someone in their steed, and those who had been made to do so had no choice in the matter; they all had to come.

The harvest had been good the last few years, and the land and seasons were getting warmer. Providence from the divine, no doubt, but the harvests that followed the Adzian Unification filled the pantries to bursting, and the markets to rotting. The calves grew big and fat, and the goat kids proud and strong. This was a time of plenty, a time of celebration, and, some were the whispers...

A time of gift giving.

Morrigan, who was part of King Adze's household, already knew the truth of course.

As befit a warrior, she was a red-haired woman of tall stature. Five feet and nine inches, if the tailors were still right, only now 40 years old. She had not been born in Leisore herself, of course, but the Druidic law lands of her childhood were but a hazy memory now. Her father, the exile, had fought for Adze's father and so had gotten her involved early on, opening the door for a proper career of bloodletting-ship.

Many thought it a pity, for war had stopped her from continuing her line and finding a spouse. Doubly so because many saw themselves as that spouse.

But they just didn't know.

Tall she might be, but Morrigan had long been considered something of a beauty. Aside from her red hair, her eyes were an uncommon gray that few other women shared in this land. Her nose was straight and upturned. Yes, even in her 40s. Her cheeks were naturally rosy, her chin small, her lips inherently red, and her eyes large. A face for looking and being looked at, her father had always said.

But most men looked at her body.

The rigors of training and battle meant that her shoulders were slabs of toned muscles, and her back muscles small pyramids that reached for her neck. Generally, however, fights tended to drag on, and the sort of body that best dealt with that particular rigor tended to be lithe. Her arms, which were defined with rope-like cords of muscle, reflected that. Her stomach, which was utterly flat, reflected that. Her legs, whose muscles were otherwise very defined, reflected that.

But for some reason, her tits and ass did not.

Large was the bust divine will had endowed her, and pillowy the ass that she sat down on. Her skin, being white, had freckles that went through it out all over, but these showed the most in breasts that were as large as catapult stones. It showed on her pasty ass, and dissapeared upon getting to her wide hips.

Morrigan had made of her body a temple to fight, but all most men who looked upon her saw was a brothel to fuck. Perhaps, she really SHOULD have gotten married long before now, if only to discourage such eyes and whispers in the dark.

But, as she stood guard on the long banquet of the palace being built on her lord's Capital, a hand came around to remind her why she hadn't.

It slapped her ass and made it jiggle, almost eliciting a gasp from her. It was a vulgar hand, a daring her, and one whose owner would have normally had to pay with a bloody lip for going that far.

But Morrigan didn't, because it belonged to the Queen.

"Having fun?" a woman who was 2 years her senior asked, a bit of white hair starting to show on her roots..

"Fun is something that those noble and rich do," Morrigan duly informed the black-haired woman, "As I am but a mere household guard, I only know duty."

"What a waste," the Queen slid her hand through Morrigan's ass, not a single person in the party there noticing that anything was amiss.

Morrigan's seniority in her Lord's guard meant that she could choose her own post for even this event, and she had chosen to observe the goings and comings of the King's party from the second floor of the still unfinished palace. It was a place that was hard to get to, and poorly populated, but it endowed her with an unparalleled ability to observe everyone below.

"How about you make it your duty to let me enjoy my fun, then?" the Queen asked, leaning against her in a way that would have raised many eyebrows if anyone could see them from this angle.

Because, as chance would have it, this spot also allowed the Queen to seek a spot of adultery with her.

"What of the prince and princesses?" Morrigan asked as the Queen stuck her hand inside chain mail shirt Morrigan was wearing, seeking out her tits.

"My boy's a-courting, and the girls a-courissing," the woman softly replied, "Or do you, perhaps..."

"Mean your daughter?"

"Pleeease," Morrigan hissed as she felt her queen pinch her nipples, "Anessa, please, don't repeat those words ever again."

"Oh, but we are alone here and now, you and I," the woman replied.

"Why hide the truth, especially when it's oh so intoxicating?"

"Because it's worth your and mine head should anyone know of it," even as sexual desire rose up in her loins, Morrigan couldn't help but drily reply.

"But they haven't," the Queen said, "And they never will."

"But should they," she said, "None of them would ever suspect that you have-"

She reached down into the armored skirt that Morrigan had, and sneaked her hand where Morrigan's panties were, "-this."

Cold hand touched the limp 9 inch dick that Morrigan had. But the touch was enough to make it start to grow and fill out her skirt.

When fully erect, it was full foot of dick that was rather hard to hide or wear around in her heavy mail. But the Queen had her ways of making it go away, so Morrigan leaned back, and allowed the woman she had been having an illicit, if dangerous relationship, get close to her face to-

"MORRIGAN!" the king's voice barked from down below.

Had the Queen been any faster in detaching herself from Morrigan, perhaps she would have made for a good warrior herself had she spent time training. As for Morrigan herself, she only had but too look around them to make sure that, yes, nobody had seen them.

And yet.

"MORRIGAN!" King Adze called again, "Come down, my good sword, come down and stand in front of me."

"The time to reward has come and I would give to those who first stood with me!"

Morrigan looked at the Queen in askance.

"No, I don't know what it's about," she sighed with relief, "But I am glad that he's doing it. You deserve it, after all."

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"If you say so," Morrigan frowned; lords gave members of their own house their gifts behind closed doors, though she supposed the whole kingdom was now his house.

"Apologies for making you and the gentlefolk gathered here wait," she bowed before her king a few moments after, having made sure that no sign that she had been about to engage in adultery showed, "The Palace promises to be large and a lot of the ways are still undone."

"A trifling, easily forgiven," a man whose hair was white and peppered waved his hand, "Especially since my daughters have yet to make their way to their seats."

"And they've been here in the hall all along," he drily looked at the 3 royal girls making their way to where the throne was, making them all flush.

"Peace, love," Queen Anessa appeared out of nowhere, coming to her own seat just in time, "None of us are used to such a sizeable crowd, and all of us are still getting used to this new home."

"I suppose this IS a time for peace," Adze hummed, making his family relax, "And suffering from my own success is hardly the worst curse a man could have. Very well, hurry to your seats, girls, I mean to give my gifts."

A boy, a man, really, was seated to Adze's left, while the Queen sat to the King's right. The rest of the seats for his family were for the girls, and they were laid out to the Queen's right. Many eyes might have been on the sole heir, and many eyes were on the princesses of Leisore but Morrigan's couldn't help but search for a particular girl here.

And it wasn't her Queen.

Black was the hair of the only bastard that Morrigan knew the Queen had given her lord, and aquiline, eagle-like, was her nose. The patrician nose was common to the people of Leisore, and it was thus a nose that the Queen had passed down to her, but the familiar gray of her eyes, and the shape of her chin and cheeks, gave truth to a reality no one else realized.

At 18 years of age, Agata, the second "daughter" born to Adze was a girl of great beauty, looking much the same as Morrigan might have. Save for the big lips the girl had, the set of features they both shared looked cherubic on her, where they looked beautiful in Morrigan. And the similarities didn't stop there.

Her bust size was great. Huge, point in fact. Matching Morrigan's pound for pound, her dress had to carry tits that were larger than her head. Her ass, too, was very large, and her hips, too, made her sway them as she walked. Her skin, too, was the pasty white Morrigan possessed but the freckles, thankfully, were nowhere to be found.

Too many similarities would have called things too much into question.

But, given that not many people knew that Morrigan was a rare futa, well, no one had ever made the connections.

Looking at her secret daughter was a vice of Morrigan's, but this was a situation when it could be forgiven, when all was said and done, so she took advantage of it.

But Morrigan did not expect, however, for the princess to be looking her way, of all things, as well.

By chance, Agata's eyes made contact with her, and Morrigan's breath stopped as she realized that the Princess had caught her looking above her station.

But, surely, that was normal, right? The princess, surely, wouldn't think this had a higher motive behind it, yes? Everyone was, and the Princess had no reason but to dismiss Morrigan's wondering eyes.

But the Princess did not look away.

No, instead, a smile split her face, flashing Morrigan her white teeth.

"Morrigan!" King Adze said again, shaking Morrigan out of the queer stare down she shared with her secret daughter, "No one gather here will begrudge you what I am about to give you."

The nobles gathered in the hall made noises of agreement and muttered a few "hear, hear" here and there. But then, it wasn't healthy to disagree with the king for being generous.

"I am yours to do what you see fit, my lord," Morrigan stepped up before his throne and knelt.

"Damned right, I am," Adze seriously nodded, "Which is why I am naming you Baroness of one of my recently conquered lands,"

A gasp rang out through the hall and Morrigan started to sweat.

"B-baroness?" she asked.

"A Lady of vineyards and wheat somewhere to the south," the king agreed, "It's my crownlands, otherwise, and I need someone to take care of them for me."

"But...land, me?" Morrigan dumbly said.

"Will anyone gain say me?" the king loudly asked and, this time, the hall was mostly silent.

Morrigan chanced a look around her and found, to her surprise, that there indeed was nobody showing disapproval.

Mostly, it was envy.

But then, a baron wasn't a particularly great powerful lord, nor was a baron-y a particularly big plot of land. Adze was making her powerful in relation to him, but not in true peerage to most of the lords gathered here today.

Still...

"If you-you say so, my lord," Morrigan swallowed the saliva in her mouth.

"I do," Adze said, "But that's not all."

"There's more?" Morrigan had to ask.

"Do you know which are the gifts that people most oft tell in tales, sword of mine?" the king chuckled.

"The greatest ones?" Morrigan ventured a guess.

"The first and last ones," the king corrected her, "Which is why we endeavour to make them great."

"My king's wisdom is beyond me," Morrigan bowed her head, because she didn't really have a reply to that.

Before continuing, Adze gave the Queen a quick look from the corner of his eyes, before turning back to Morrigan with a calculative nod.

"Tell me, Morrigan," the King began, "Have you ever become appropriately acquainted with Agata, my daughter?"

Morrigan looked at the king with confusion before the question hit any bells in her head.

But when she did-

"What?" both she and the Queen's gasps rang out in the hall.

"Baroness Morrigan, former of my household guard," Adze smirked, "I present you with my virginal daughter."

The King was gesturing at the illicit offspring of Morrigan and the Queen who, unlike her mothers, was standing up and looking at her father with... happiness?

Eagerness?

Her daughter was thrilled?

"Oh, father," Agata sighed, "I didn't dare hope you'd listen to my words. Thank you, thank you thank-"

"Absolutely NOT!" the Queen interrupted her, getting up and glaring both at her husband and daughter.

"But-," Agata choked back.

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"I didn't do this for you, little bird," Adze said, "Proud though it makes me."

"Though I do wonder why my lady wife thinks she can gain say me in my house in front of my own guests?" he casually asked, looking at his wife.

The Queen went slightly white.

"She-the baroness is a woman!" the Queen, at least, managed to get out, "That's unnatural! That's insane!"

"Oh, it's the height of hilarity to hear you say that," Adze said, "Considering the things that people can't tell apart."

Morrigan felt as though the bottom of her stomach sank.

Did...did he know?

"Such as our daughter's preference in spouse," the King went on, "Or is her reaction not evident enough?"

"Agata is just not attracted to men."

Murmurs filled the hall as Agata resolutely stood where she was, not daring to look away from those that observed her.

"That-that doesn't matter!" the Queen desperately said, "It still shouldn't be Morrigan!"

'And why not, my dear Lady wife?" The King had a sharp smile on his face.

And it was nothing short of vicious.

"Because....because..." the Queen tried to come up with a reason on the spot before her mouth clicked shut.

Anessa turned around and furiously left the hall.

"She'll come around to it," King Adze said to everyone gathered there, "Women, am I right?"

Everyone there laughed.

"But stand, Baroness Morrigan," King Adze bid her.

"What say, you?" his eyes pierced her.

"Do you accept my daughter's hand?"

--------------------------

My Lord, there are no reasons to refuse the gift except my own deficiencies. Might I have time to properly ponder a way to answer this proposal?

In the king's hall, her king's hall, there were no good ways to turn down either his threats or his gifts. No way to look like the loyal vassal she was if she would scorn the rewards he offered her. So she had done the best thing.

She had bid for time.

Rather than being wrought with her, her lord had given her an indulging smile, "Truly? Take your time, but don't take too long. I'll wait safe in a bit of knowledge that I am rather surprised my lady wife seems to miss."

"You, after all, do not lust after men either."

The murmur of the lords gathered there didn't seem surprised and made Morrigan realize what sort of rumors spread about her far and wide. But correct as they might be, the whole thing had generated significantly less backlash from the peeraged gathered there than she expected.

"They think you are being circumspect," the Queen had later explained when Morrigan managed to pull away from the party, "They know it would be stupid of you to outright refuse, but they think you are trying to avoid quarrel with your new peers by marrying so far out of your new station."

"But I hadn't even the thought that I would become a baroness!" she had complained to the only lover she had ever known.

"They don't believe that," Anessa said, then nodded, "But we can use that."

"We can avoid this damnable incestual disaster yet."

Things were still up in the air, like a game of knucklebones, and the hope that there was a way out gave lift to Morrigan's soul. Her king, well-meaning as he was, could not know what he was pushing on her. No, worse, it was something he shouldn't know.

And yet, that same ignorance...

A sound in the night stirred her from her pondering.

Morrigan was in her room, awake late into the night. Full moon filled the rooms of the palace with sparse light through wooden windows opened to let the cool night air in, but they only revealed so much. Most of her bed was illuminated with blue tint, but Morrigan herself had been stirring in the dark under her sheets. This was a hot night to sleep in nothing but breast wraps and loincloths.

A night in which worry drove her to think and consider things-that is, until she was interrupted.

New Baroness or not, the Feast of Victory still had a few days to be done, and the palace was still half done. Everyone who came here was garnered with habitation worthy of a host like King Adze, but that did not mean that showy, colorful carpeted rooms were given to everyone.

As a member of the house guard, Morrigan had enjoyed her own room in her lord's house for years now, and the move to this new palace did not change that. Neither did her ascension to baroness.

Last night she went to her bed a houseguard. Tonight she did so a baroness.

But it was still the same bed, in the same room, with the same things she'd always have. When she left for her new lands, when she entered her new home and met her new servants, things would be different, Morrigan supposed.

But some things never changed.

"Who's there?" the red-haired woman asked as she pulled a familiar dagger from underneath her pillow, hoping that it would be an errant servant getting lost in the palace again, but fully expected it to be a drunk noble making their way to the wrong bed.

Just as well, it could be an assassin.

Whatever it was, it did not answer her question.

But the hiss of cloth sliding along the stone floor still sounded, and it only got closer.

"I warn you," Morrigan glared at the direction of the sound, her dagger ready to fly, "I am not unaware, so either present yourself or get ready to die."

"Hmm," a familiar voice shivered in the dark, "Spirits know, I always admired that about you, Captain."

Morrigan's face lost its pallor as she recognized the voice.

"Or, should that be, Baroness?" the intruder into her room walked into moonlight, a single thin layer of night clothes to protect her dignity.

Agata, the middle "daughter" of her king, stood above her with her cheeks already flushing and her eyes already aflame.

"That sense of danger," Morrigan's illicit daughter whispered, "That strength so rarely found in a woman."

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