Author's Note

Welcome to the main story arc! This involves events that take place between chapter 8 and 9 of the main story, but once again, it shouldn't be necessary to read it to enjoy this. I attempted to give a quick but thorough explanation of who everyone is/what they're doing there, and how things arrived at this point.

After jumping in the deep end with the first story chapter, we're now backing off and starting a slow but quickly accelerating buildup towards additional action. No sex in this chapter as it's meant more to set the stage, folks, but there's plenty of worldbuilding and character development for you to enjoy.

—Firesight

Chapter contains: Some suggestive dialogue, but no actual sex.

8.1 - A Night to Remember: Tara's Temptations, Part 1

As she settled in to watch a post-dinner movie beside her old human and new griffon friends, Tara Fields, former bartender and geologist-in-training, couldn’t help but wonder if her stay in the Griffon Kingdom would ever be anything but equal parts eventful and surreal.

It had begun nearly a week earlier with their arrival in the Kingdom's capital city of Arnau as part of a human diplomatic delegation, which had the mission of negotiating a cross-portal trade agreement with their hosts. She and her two longtime friends, Christopher McClain and Marco Lakan, were various flavors of scientists tasked with examining the local lands to help determine what human crops could be grown and what minerals could potentially be mined.

But even as scientists, they were civilians, not soldiers or diplomats; they had initially treated the Kingdom’s griffons as no different than the Equestrian ponies they were already familiar with when they arrived. They were disabused of that notion quickly when her Filipino friend Marco had laid a hand on the back of two griffons they were taking a picture with.

It had provoked an immediate and very violent response from the female of the pair—a young adult soldier named Gilda—as it turned out that touching a griffon on their wings or flight muscles was tantamount to groping a human woman’s boobs.

The enraged eagless, as griffons called their females, had been ready to tear Marco apart for the transgression and had to be restrained by her partner, a younger male named Fortrakt, who pinned her to the ground while the three of them ran.

That was bad enough—Marco was a good and well-meaning friend, but he also had an uncanny knack for finding trouble, especially with the local ladies—but then just two days later, they’d gone on their first field foray into the countryside outside of the Kingdom capital, only for Chris and Marco to be menaced by two teenaged griffons who wanted to be the first to challenge and fight their human visitors.

She hadn’t been there for it, stationed in a different area as she was, but she’d heard the harrowing story. To his credit, Marco had held both attackers off with a collapsible baton long enough for Chris to find Gilda, who had been assigned to them as escorts along with her partner Fortrakt to make sure the initial incident with Marco didn’t repeat itself.

Despite her lingering distaste for him, Gilda had swooped in and saved him, using her new authority as a diplomatic liaison to order the arrest of the offending griffons for breaking a prohibition against dueling humans.

Though Marco seemed okay, perhaps in part because he’d acquitted himself well against the two half-feline, half-raptor predators—they’d quickly figured out that griffons were not all half-eagle; half-lion as human mythology held; they could in fact have the feline and avian attributes of any hunting cat or bird of prey you could name—Chris had been badly shaken by the incident; one it turned out that he, like Marco, had accidentally provoked.

As Gilda later explained it, he had tried to defuse the dangerous situation by speaking to the two griffons in their native tongue—they called their language Aeric, but it was actually an exotic form of Latin, which he had studied in college—but he had spoken it so poorly that they’d taken extreme offense, believing he was mocking them and not offering due respect.

“I’m a botanist and an agronomist, not a sociologist! I didn’t know!” Chris protested later that night before retreating in defeat to his room in their hotel suite, which was called the Winged Hall Inn; he didn’t emerge again until breakfast the next morning. The problem was, none of them knew, and it quickly became clear they needed a great deal more training in griffon culture to navigate it safely.

If they were not to run afoul of a society where warriors were revered and ritualized fights were commonplace.

A society where formal challenges and honor duels were still practiced; she’d even heard from the soldiers of the U.S. Marine security detail assigned to the Ambassador as the delegation’s diplomatic guard that griffons fought before mating.

Fight before sex… so are griffons more like Romans, or Klingons? Tara had the passing thought, wondering in turn what their hosts would think if they showed them some episodes of the various Star Trek series. And what would that mean for me, given Fortrakt seems to be interested in me? she asked herself for what seemed like the twentieth time, still uncertain what to do about it or even that she wasn’t just imagining it.

Increasingly, she didn’t think she was. She’d caught plenty of odd behavior from the earnest and friendly young tiercel soldier with cougar hindquarters, brilliant green eyes and the dark brown feathers of a golden eagle over the past several days, including furtive looks and an almost giddy reaction to when she’d invited him to inspect and touch the tattoo on her left shoulder.

He had also forcefully stood up for her that morning when she’d gotten in trouble for decking Dana Carraway, a civilian ‘observer’ whose only qualification for coming was that she was a Twitter terror and the daughter of an influential U.S. Senator.

Dana had deeply resented the inclusion of Tara and Marco on the diplomatic mission, believing them beneath her. Upon learning they’d been taken somewhere she hadn’t—the Kingdom’s Hall of Heroes Monument—she attempted to get them expelled by deliberately provoking them, insulting them and their griffon escorts to their faces. She’d been trying to record an incident on her smartphone that would leave the delegation’s head, Ambassador Alvin Goldberg, no choice but to expel them.

Sleepless and short-tempered after a nightmare-filled night—one caused by watching a recording of a harrowing wartime duel between a pony and a griffon at the Hall of Heroes the previous day—Tara had taken it upon herself to oblige the insulting and entitled girl, deciding that if anyone was going to take Dana down, it would be her.

It wasn’t hard, given Dana had no training or experience fighting, but Tara did. Her fists had been honed by growing up with three older brothers, and she’d later gotten plenty of practice using them putting handsy patrons in their place when she was working full time at a seedy bar, trying to pay her way through school.

She smiled as she recalled how badly Dana’s plan had backfired, as by insulting not just her fellow humans but also their griffon hosts, she’d run afoul of the Kingdom’s cultural rules far worse than Marco or Chris had.

And thus, Tara’s retaliation drew admiration rather than condemnation from the Kingdom, for acting exactly like a griffon would.

Admiration, and then asylum, as she’d requested it from the Kingdom to keep from being sent home by Goldberg, where Dana and her father would guarantee she would be arrested and jailed. Fortrakt had reacted with barely restrained delight at the news, and she was starting to wonder if something had happened with him immediately after the incident with Dana, when she ejected the insulting woman forcefully from their suite into the hallway and then headbutted her into submission.

One second he was acting all awestruck, and then the next he looked panicked and backed himself into a corner? Wait—did that boy actually pop a boner over me? She couldn’t help but smile at the thought, finding herself hoping that griffons were in fact far better endowed than the cats their rear halves were based on.

If she was being honest, she’d occasionally peeked beneath the tails of their bare hindquarters to see what their boys—and girls!—were packing, but couldn’t tell much other than that the former had a decent-sized pair of balls and a more rearward, down-angled sheath than the ponies. It gave her little sense of their actual cock size, while the latter had a quartet of teats on their lower bellies along with what seemed a larger and more prominent slit than a big cat would.

So maybe that bodes well for their tiercels’ stature? Not that I need to know or anything. Still, I bet Fortrakt would at least treat me well and probably be a better lay than most of the soy boys back home!

She blinked at the thought, then chuckled. A little hard up, are we, Tara? Well, it’s not like I’ve had any sex since that drunken fling with Marco a year ago… she recalled somewhat ruefully, but then smiled again.

Sorry, Dana, but this is one girl you can’t cancel! She allowed herself a smug grin as she settled into her seat beside Gilda, a mug of Sweet Apple Acres ‘Special Reserve’ cider in her hand while she waited for the evening’s entertainment to begin. As their griffon hosts had expressed interest in seeing a movie with human swordplay, and everyone preferred something a little more lighthearted after all the intense moments they’d had over the past few days, they’d settled on The Princess Bride.

It’s not a bad flick, to be sure. Haven’t seen it in like a dozen years. I liked it as a kid; so, I guess we’ll see if it holds up as an adult. I just wish I could celebrate putting Dana in her place with more than seeing a kiddie flick! she mused as Marco readied his laptop-wired projector to show the movie—he had several hundred films to choose from; she never asked how he got them but strongly suspected they were pirated—wondering what kind of nightlife the griffons had.

Chris said the food and everything else this night was in my honor, and to just sit back and enjoy myself. I have so far, but I still wish there was some real way I could properly thank him, Marco, Gilda and Fortrakt for standing up for me…

* * * * *

Tara had nearly downed a full mug of cider by the time Chris produced one final indulgence for the evening—a large vat of freshly popped corn that had once again been obtained from Equestria before coming to the Kingdom, which he portioned out into smaller bowls to be shared among everyone.

“Now we’re ready. Marco, will you do the honors?” he asked their longtime mutual friend.

“My pleasure,” Marco said as Chris stroked a crystal that activated a dimmer spell, lowering the light level of the room’s wall-mounted firegems to nearly no illumination. Her Filipino friend then pulled up the file with a series of clicks on his laptop keyboard, causing the projector to begin to glow and shortly project an image of the movie’s title and its opening credits, accompanied by the sound of a coughing child.

“Enjoy, folks! It’s a family-friendly fantasy adventure with a strong measure of both swordplay and humor. And Chris, could you pour me another mug of cider?” Marco asked as the opening credits rolled.

“Sure, dude,” her fair-skinned and red-headed friend replied, taking the mug and placing it beneath the tap of their cider keg. “Any other takers?”

“Me,” Tara said as she finished off her first mug and passed it back. Have to say, this is some of the best cider I’ve ever had!

Even though it wasn’t alcoholic—from what Fortrakt said, Equestrian alcohol was banned in the Kingdom, or at least heavily tariffed—she swore it was having some kind of effect on her, given there seemed to be a slight pinkish cast at the edges of her vision she barely noticed unless she looked for it. But what does that ‘special reserve’ label on the side of the keg mean anyway? Fancier apples?

The train of thought was stopped when there was a knock on the door of their Inn suite.

It came just as Tara had scooped her first bowlful of popcorn to share with Gilda, watching in slight fascination as she dipped her beak into the bowl to take a mouthful of it with a quick flick of her head like it was a liquid, proceeding to crunch on it quite happily.

She had the half-thought that maybe it wasn’t sanitary—who knows what her beak’s been in!—but decided she didn’t care, increasingly enjoying her time with the griffon eagless.

She’s tough, she’s proud, and she’s done right by all of us—even Marco after a rough start, forgiving him after he accidentally groped her. She also seems to genuinely like me and isn’t so standoffish now. You know, it’s really been a while since I found a lady I might honestly want to call a sister!

“Figures…” Marco growled as he paused the movie barely sixteen seconds in and went down the short hall of their Inn suite to open the door. “Oh! Hey, Robbie!” she then heard Marco call.

“Hey, guys,” they heard the voice of Sergeant Robert Reyes, their Marine security detachment liaison, call out. “Just checking on everybody, as promised. And maybe hoping to grab some of that greasy goodness we can smell you cooked all the way from the fucking dining hall!” he said as he entered, his nose twitching. “There better be some left for me!”

“Hey, we wouldn’t neglect the needs of our favorite leatherneck, Robbie,” Marco teased, leading him over to the platter of freshly fried chicken they’d saved him, being kept warm over the fading embers of the cooking fire. “Here ya go. And have some hot Equestrian cider, too.”

“Hard cider?” Reyes raised an eyebrow at him. “You know I’m on duty.”

“Nope. It’s as soft as Tara’s backside,” Marco promised with a teasing tone, causing Tara to look up. She saw Chris facepalm and Fortrakt blush while she exchanged a glance and eyeroll with Gilda—for some reason, Marco had been teasing her over their onetime fling a year earlier quite heavily that evening, though in fairness, she’d not only allowed it but encouraged it for reasons she still wasn’t clear on. “Want to try some, Sergeant?”

“So, is Marco always like this?” Gilda asked as she swallowed her first beakful of popcorn, watching as Reyes accepted the mug and took a long swig, his eyes noticeably widening in surprise as the taste hit him. “Seems really dweeby, even for him.”

“Actually, he’s in rare form,” Tara replied under her breath as she took a handful of popcorn of her own to eat from. “He usually doesn’t push it this hard.”

“Then just say the word, and I’ll push back,” Gilda offered with a wink and a devilish gleam in her golden eyes. “Verbally, or otherwise.” She flexed her claws before spearing a single piece of popcorn on a talon and popping it in her beak

“It’s okay, Gilda, really,” Tara assured her, finding Marco’s attention more flattering than annoying at that moment. And it’s not like I didn’t tease him just as hard, earlier. Sorry, Chris, but I guess we never really got over sleeping together that one time, after all… she mentally apologized to him, given he’d had to clean up after them when they got severely sick from their inebriation, and it then fell to him to try to heal their friendship when both realized they’d made a terrible mistake the next day.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I know how he seems sometimes, but at heart, he’s a good guy. And take it from me, he’s a good lay,” she felt compelled to add, only to blink. Huh? Why in the HELL did I just say that?

“I’ll take your word for it.” Gilda smirked, setting aside her empty cider bowl. “I didn’t think I’d ever say this a couple days ago, but I’ll grant he’s got plenty of good qualities to go with his bad. Then again, so does Fortrakt over there,” she added with a nod over to where her junior partner sat on a floor pillow chatting with Chris; Tara caught his gaze drift towards them for a moment before it was quickly averted when he noticed her looking back. “I may tease him. I may even embarrass him. But it’s only because I like him.”

“Then you’re a true friend,” Tara told the eagless, picking up her cider bowl to refill it. “And someone I’d like to know better.”

Gilda glanced at her. She looked for a moment like she was trying to find a way to say something, but she couldn’t before a second knock was heard on the suite door. And this time, it wasn’t Reyes, but First Lieutenant Jason Nantz, commander of the Inn’s U.S. Marine security detachment, who marched in.

“Okay, where’s the fried chicken?” he demanded to know in feigned anger, his nose twitching and hands on his hips. He was wearing a hungry expression as well as his camo fatigues and weapons belt which mounted both a pistol and more nonlethal options like a baton and taser, though there was also an interested and very striking young eagless who looked to be in her mid or late teens at his side. Her fur and feathers were almost completely white except for a spattering a barely darker spots on her feathered areas, all offset by brilliant blue eyes.

That was her guess anyway, given Tara noted the young eagless still had a few of the fluffier down feathers she’d seen on griffon cubs. “It’s been in my nostrils for the last hour! Do you know how distracting that is? We can smell it all the way from the second floor!”

“Right here, sir!” A grinning Reyes offered him the platter with the remaining pieces. “Of course, I saved some greasy goodness for our stern but benevolent bastard of a C.O.”

“By which he means I saved some, sir,” Marco offered helpfully with a tip of his mug, earning a glower back from Reyes.

Nantz pinned Reyes with a mock glare. “Flattery gets you nowhere with me, Sergeant—only fried chicken does. Now hand it over! I have to make sure it’s up to Marine standards, after all…”

“Sir, yes sir!” He immediately put two pieces on a plate and passed it to his superior, giving him an exaggerated bow as he presented it.

“Save the bow, Sergeant! I’m not your King, I’m your commander! So let’s see…” Nantz picked up a piece and inhaled the odor deeply before biting into it, then he closed his eyes and smiled, wearing an expression of pure bliss as he chewed. “Damn, that’s good… and you made this, Chris? My compliments! Have to admit, I never thought I’d miss fried food so much after spending a couple of months in Equestria and the Kingdom!”

“You’re welcome, sir—we just figured Dana’s expulsion called for something special in celebration. But who’s your griffon guest?” Chris asked, glancing over to where the young griffon female stood on all fours at Nantz’s side expectantly, her head coming nearly up to his navel.

“Oh! My apologies. This is Merlina Marcus, the daughter of the Inn’s owner. She’s been giving me Aeric language lessons after my duty shifts, and she was curious what the smell was. Here, try some fried chicken, Merlina…” He offered the young eagless the second piece from the plate.

“Oh! Uh, thank you, Jason,” the young and petite griffon female replied politely in excellent Equish with a bared throat, earning a smirk from Reyes at what Tara guessed was her use of Nantz’s first name. She watched closely as the young eagless sniffed at the crispy meat before taking a tentative bite, wishing to see her reaction, noting Gilda was doing the same beside her.

Their newest arrival did not disappoint. Her face and eyes lit up as she stared down at the oddly-cooked chicken in astonishment. “By my Ancestors, that’s really good…” she all but cooed as she started tearing off additional pieces of meat and crispy skin with her beak and chewing on them happily. “I never knew chicken could taste so… so fatty and juicy!”

“Well, that’s three griffon votes in favor of opening a fried chicken franchise in Arnau!” Chris proclaimed as he poured the Lieutenant a mug of cider next. “You know, we should tell Goldberg that they should be part of any trade agreement!”

“Fine, but just not KFC,” Tara noted with a chuckle as Gilda listened in some bemusement. “I’ll have you know I’m a Church’s Fried Chicken girl.”

“Then you obviously haven’t experienced the sweet tea and southern spices of Bojangles,” Reyes rejoined as he chowed down happily on a chicken leg. “They’re enormously addictive.”

“Forget those. If I’m not the one making it, then gimme the cajun flavor of Popeyes any day,” Chris responded.

“You guys are idiots. If you want fried chicken done right, you have to come to the Philippines. We’ve got a chain called Jollibee that puts them all to shame!” Marco boasted, at which point Tara noted the boys all started to argue, to which Nantz rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“You know, maybe I better get out of here before I get blamed for starting a war over the best fried chicken franchises.” He decided with a chuckle.

“Then have some cider to go, sir. We’re promised it’s Equestria’s finest!” Chris offered him a mug of steaming liquid

But instead of accepting it, Nantz eyed it balefully before he turned his gaze on Reyes, who already had a mug in his hand. “That better not be hard cider, Sergeant. You’re still on duty.”

“Sadly, it’s a non-alcoholic brew, sir,” Reyes replied easily. “Taste for yourself!”

“It is? Pity. Because I am off-duty right now!” He chuckled, but accepted a mug all the same. “Do you want some too, Merlina? If you like, we can eat and drink all this over my next language lesson,” he invited her, to which she looked at him in surprise.

“Oh! Um, sure, I guess. I just haven’t really tried pony cider before…”

“Really? I’m surprised the Caleponians don’t make it,” Tara quietly noted to Gilda, having learned that the Caleponians were the descendants of earth ponies who had settled in the Kingdom not long after the Great Pony/Griffon War, seven centuries earlier. They emigrated to the homeland of their former foe as a gesture of good faith in their armistice agreement; they helped the Kingdom grow crops and, over time, had gained hardier bodies, formed their own culture and even acquired an accent distinct from Equestrian ponies.

“They do, but it’s generally not as good,” she replied, taking a fresh beakful of the brown liquid from her bowl. “Apples and other produce just don’t grow as well here, even with Earth Pony help. And besides, most griffons prefer stronger alcohol than cider.”

“Then maybe I should open a bar and restaurant here,” Tara mused as she threw back half her mug. “It would serve human alcohol, and fried chicken!”

“Oh! Would you?” Fortrakt piped up excitedly from over by Marco, earning a smirk from Gilda. “Uh, I mean… such things are unknown in the Kingdom, and this fried chicken of yours would definitely be clamored for…”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Fortrakt,” she offered easily, then turned to a grinning Gilda. “He’s smitten with me, isn’t he?” she inquired in a low voice.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Gilda confirmed with a roll of her eyes and fresh beakful of popcorn. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll tell him to back off.”

“No, it’s just…” Her voice trailed off as she honestly wasn’t sure what it was to her at that point. She hadn’t had a boyfriend in a while, given Chris and Marco were off-limits—there were times she wondered if the former might not be gay given he’d shown no interest in her, while the one time she’d had a drunken fling with the latter had blown up in their collective faces, leaving it all they could do to salvage their friendship after.

She’d even tried a relationship with a female roommate she’d been sharing an apartment with. It was back when she was putting herself through school and was trying to save money, but that hadn’t worked out for several reasons. Not the least of which was she was a completely irresponsible idiot and social media addict! The sex wasn’t bad, though, she granted, wondering with a glance at Gilda if griffon females got into gay relationships. Or how would that even work with their beaks…?

“In that case, want some flavor for your cider, sir?” Marco waved his flask of buffalo whiskey at him, which they’d obtained from a stay in Appleloosa a month earlier. “Direct from the Buffalo lands!”

“Think I’d trust anything from you, Flip-boy?” Nantz all but twinkled. The title might have been a slur, but given the affection he and the other Marines had for Marco for supplying them with various forms of video entertainment during their long deployment, it was far more a term of endearment. “You’ve already corrupted most of my Marines. So now you’re working on our hosts, too?”

“Of course, sir! As you can see, I’m currently corrupting them with that most obscene and evil of movies... called The Princess Bride!” He motioned to the frozen image projected on the wall in front of them, earning chuckles from Tara and the other humans.

“The Princess Bride? How uncharacteristically wholesome. Sure you’re not sick, Marco?” Nantz mocked, to the laughter of Chris and Sergeant Reyes. “I’m surprised you didn’t foist porn on them like you do for my Marines.”

“He tried, Lieutenant. But for some strange reason, they weren’t interested,” Tara noted mildly.

“She’s not lying,” Gilda confirmed as she plucked another piece of popcorn between two talons. “At least, I definitely wasn’t, though I can’t speak for my partner over there…” she added with a leering grin and wink at Fortrakt, who blushed hard and shifted uncomfortably.

“Figures. All joking aside, please be careful about what you show them, Marco,” Nantz admonished. “Remember the rules.”

“Yes, sir!” He fired the Marine officer a mock salute—the rules that Nantz referred to were to show the griffons nothing that would give away the function and capabilities of Marine weapons, including and especially movies with gunplay. “Actually, would you care to stay and watch, Lieutenant? I bet even Miss Marcus over there would like to see this. It's a good movie and we’ve got plenty of popcorn!” he invited, offering him a bowl.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I’ve got a large stack of reports to write thanks to today’s incident with Tara, but only after Merlina gives me my nightly Aeric language lesson,” he said with a glance and grin down at her, earning a shy smile in return as she finished off her piece of chicken, stripping it of meat and then crunching down the entire bone before sitting back to lick her talons clean of the grease.

“Duty calls, huh?” Marco chuckled. “Then how about some dinner and cider to go, sir? We’ll even offer up a bowl of popcorn if you like.”

“Sold!” Nantz nodded as he took a long draw on the offered mug of cider, waiting for Reyes and Marco to put together a chicken platter that included the two side dishes Marco had made—hard-boiled eggs dipped in batter that had been fried, and a pork-and-vegetable noodle dish.

As they finished, the Marine officer stared down at his mug in surprise. “Wow, even without liquor, that is really good. You want some hot cider too, Merlina?” Nantz turned to his right, where the young eagless had been listening to the exchange in equal parts interest and confusion. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Oh. Um, yes. Please,” she nodded, to which Marco then filled a large thermos for them both rather than require them to carry multiple bowls and mugs down the hall. They’d learned that could be awkward for griffons, given it would require them to walk with three legs or attempt to fly without spilling them.

“Well, we’ll take our meal with us, then. But before that, I do actually have one piece of serious business I need to discuss,” he told them, his voice suddenly far more formal as he turned to face Tara. “Miss Fields, may I speak with you in private for a minute?”

Tara looked up in surprise but nodded and stood up. “Certainly, Lieutenant.”