The Purchase: A Stop On The Road

	This story uses characters from The Purchase, which can be read here: http://pastebin.com/zdqRVbLE
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	We had been a week on the road, going by horse from Freke Galae to Siobhanstead, and had decided that rather than make camp upon the dusty road one more night we would treat ourselves to a much deserved respite at a nearby inn. It was a thin, tall place nestled in a copse of trees that stood like an island in the midst of clear-cut farmland. The building’s name was The Willowy Woman’s and the man at the counter explained that it came from a child’s ghost story.
	The Willowy Woman was a spirit, said to roam the wood, spying on lovers and young men. In life she was a witch, well versed in potions and brews and incenses who was said to give her services for free to any who would demonstrate their love in her realm. One day she had the misfortune of spying upon a noblewoman and her secret paramour, when she was discovered the noblewoman had her put to death so that she might take her knowledge of the affair to her grave. Now she walks what remains of her forest, seeking those who’s love inspired her to craft such wondrous concoctions, that one day she might find peace.
	This was, of course, not an uncommon tale; many such stories of voyeurs spying upon a noble in the midst of an affair only to lose their life for it were a penny a pair in rural areas between towns. Regardless, Liflyhn was quite taken with the tale, prompting the innkeep to divulge that many who came to visit would see her peaking in their windows or around their doors at night. This seemed to further Lif’s interest as it seemed that such spirits were far less common place in Norvenshj, from which Lif hailed.
	I paid for our room and while Liflyhn saw to the horses I opted for a stroll around the premises I purchased a light supper for the both of us and went upstairs to study, it was growing dark and the constant travel left little time to further my efforts in academia.
	When Lif returned we shared our meal and she informed me of a few tales from her homeland, of the Thin Man and the Snowbourn. It seemed that to Elves, ghosts and other non-living spirits where considered dangerous and fearsome, both unknowable and inhuman so to speak. They would snatch children from their beds or bring plague and rot upon villages, whereas the stories that were told on the Unbroken Band painted them as lost souls, often seeking something to bring them peace and rest.
	As the sun set over Liflyhn asked if there was anything I needed before she retired for the evening, ever apt and willing to serve. I gave her a warm smile, telling her she had done well this past week and to get a good night’s sleep. She nearly bounced with joy before blushing and remembering herself, she gave a single bow and thanked me before heading off into the small room attached to mine.
	The room I had paid for was a master’s suite, possessing a large room with a single bed and desk for the master’s use, as well as a smaller secondary room for any servants accompanying them. It provided both occupants a degree of privacy while necessitating that the servants could not leave without the master knowing. I knew that while Liflyhn would have been perfectly fine to share a single room, my own sense of genteel honor and decorum made me feel like a scoundrel for making a young woman who lacked any sense modesty share a bed with me.
	At least that’s what I told myself as I lay in bed, wide awake despite the fact that the moon had risen high into the sky. To be perfectly honest, I didn’t trust myself with the way I looked at her sometimes. When we had first met, I was able to keep a sense of mental dissonance, allow myself to see her as something separate from a person; but now I just saw a beautiful young woman, perhaps with eyes unlike those I had ever seen before, and ears that drew to a leaf-like point, but a woman nonetheless.
	And I knew that I held power over her, with a word I could have her naked before me and she wouldn’t say a thing to oppose it. And that scared me, frightened me at the prospect of what such an authority might transform me into.
	Yet still I could not push the thought of her bare form from my mind, the innocence in which she had stripped for me the first day I met her, the shine of water on her tanned skin as she bathed in a stream or the way her wide, ample rump seemed to bounce and sway when she did her morning stretches.
	It was somewhere amongst these thoughts that I heard it; a faint whimper coming from the room attached, Lif’s room. Focusing my attentions outwards, away from my deviant thoughts, I listen intently in case something was awry. Nothing save for the soft shuffle of bedsheets and the creak of wood came for several long moments, and then another whimpering sigh.
	Stealing quietly from my bed, I padded with as much grace as I could manage to the separation between our rooms, noticing that the door was cracked slightly ajar.
	Peering into the slit, I waited as my eyes adjusted to the dark, my ears now picking up on the heavy breathing from the room beyond. I beheld Lif laying on her bed, which was pressed against the adjoining the foot of which faced me, one leg was bent knee up and slightly to the side as the other spread outward, almost falling off the side of the bed. As per usual she wore no bedclothes, and 	I had an unrestricted view of her supple nethers, or I would have had she not shielding them from my view with one of her hands. I feared at first that I had been caught, until I noticed the slow strokes she made up and down the length of her slit. Squinting, I searched for her other hand and found it upon her breast, which she squeezed and massaged.
	I cupped a hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp as I looked on, my breeches suddenly feeling tight as I came to my length. My brain screamed desperately for me to turn away, to preserve her modesty, but a darker, animalistic part of me demanded I stay.
	Her breathing hastened as she worked, her deft fingers working over her plump slit and occasionally dipping further between her folds, and I could see the entire area begin to glisten with moisture. Her whimpers and sighs gradually became louder until she was forced to cover her mouth to stifle them. I could see the tension beginning to build in her thick thighs, her bent leg pushing her hips upwards off the bed until I could see the entirety of her voluptuous backside.
	Her hips bucked against her hand as her fingers began to slide deeper within, curling into her most intimate area until her entire form stiffened, only her hips crashing against her hand as fluid pulsed from within soaking the sheets below her as a low moan escaped her. Had I not been so close I may not have even heard it.
	Finally, she fell back upon the bed, winded from her exertions. I took this time to steal back away from the doorjamb, but not before catching a glimpse of a pale form retreated from the window and for a moment our eyes locked; mine staring into her pale red lenses as a small smile swept up her lips, and I knew then that we had both been watching the same event.
	I made my way back to my bed and feel into a deep, warm slumber; dreams of a pale-skinned woman watching over me, her pale red eyes keeping watch, filled my unconscious mind.
	The next day Liflyhn stood patiently by my bedside as I awoke, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. She told me of how she had felt a strange presence watching her in the night, but did not elaborate on her activities beyond that and I found it prudent not to delve into it. I knew what she had done and she knew what she had done, but I did not wish to burden her with the knowledge of my shameful leering.
	As Liflyhn prepared the horses, I took a short stroll around the building, searching for a ledge or sill upon which the woman might have perched the night before, but found no such thing. I wracked my brain as to how she might have gotten there, our room being on the second story and no trees being near enough to reach the window. At a loss, I decided not to think further on it, but as I turned to leave I found at my feet a small bottle; the contents a strange blue liquid, suspended in which seemed to be pomegranate arils of a deep red.
	Around the neck of the container was a note, attached with a simple white ribbon, it read: For a likeminded caretaker, let this balm soothe your worries and find you comfort within warm dreams.
	I never returned to the Willowy Woman’s, though I often recommend it to young couples; a simple inn nestled in a copse of trees, just off the main road. A lovely place for some much needed rest.