20th Day of Goodmonth, 565 CY

Suderham, The Pomarj

A naked woman appeared in front of Aslan.

He gasped. He couldn't help it. It was only partly from surprise. The rest was from-

The paladin tore his eyes away, ostensibly to check the reactions of those around him. Elrohir, Talass, Cygnus, and Zantac looked almost as shocked as himself. Nesco, in fact, had averted her eyes, but seemed to be forcing herself to turn back to the scene. Even Tojo's inscrutable screen had been disrupted, but the samurai quickly returned his expression to its usual blank mask when he noticed Aslan looking at him.

Perhaps most surprising of all, Argo Bigfellow hadn't done more than glance at the woman. His gaze was fixed firmly on Aslan's face.

The paladin couldn't read Argo's expression at all, which was a rarity for him. It almost seemed as if the big ranger was trying to tell him something with those auburn eyes.

After a brief moment of surprise, Wainold and his allies all had faint grins on their faces now. Their gazes shifted between the woman and Aslan, curious to see what would happen next.

Sir Menn and Sitdale seemed to be sporting identical smiles, but when they looked at Aslan, the paladin could see pity in their eyes.

Unru burst into laughter.

"Is she that ugly, Aslan? Come on, look at her! You fear nothing, remember?"

He's right. You have to look at her. You started this, and you're going to have to see it through.

As the paladin steeled himself, trying to fight off a feeling that he knew should be impossible for him to be feeling, his eyes slowly turned back towards the woman.

Beware the temptations o' the flesh!

Aslan gritted his teeth. That voice had not been his own, but he knew it so well. It was ingrained in him like no other. He shook his head to clear it out. Unru laughed again, and this time one or two of Wainold's men joined him.

The woman was beautiful, there was no denying it. She was quite tall, a little over six feet, putting her at least seven inches over Aslan's height.

He did that deliberately. The paladin's mind struggled to maintain a dispassionate, analytical tone. It's going to look more humorous to everyone to see her towering over you. He considered. He could utilize his Talent to grow a few inches, to be even with her-

No! Unru will be looking for that! All that would do is confirm to him how insecure you are about your height.

Trying to get his breathing under control, Aslan looked at the image again- that's all it is, he tried to tell himself.

The woman was lithe, long-legged; athletic but still with supple curves. Her skin was absolutely unblemished. Her eyes were a brilliant deep blue, with long lashes. Her teeth shone white and perfect. Her hair was golden blonde, and there was a lot of it. It cascaded over her shoulders in bountiful waves, capturing the paladin's eyes and drawing them down to her magnificent breasts.

Aslan couldn't look away.

There was laughter again. More of it, this time.

It's an illusion. That's all it is. She isn't real.

Slowly, the woman began to dance.

She stayed in her position, but her hips began to sway. She raised her arms above her head and her torso began to move in synch with some unheard rhythm. There was no part of her form that wasn't beguiling, no part of her that-

Sweat beaded up on the paladin's forehead. His breathing was getting faster, despite his best attempts to slow it down.

Not real.

His eyes moved down further. His mouth opened uselessly. He had never even seen a grown woman's-

And then the sorrow hit. Sadness and anger.

You could have had this! His mind screamed at him. There was never anything stopping you! With your Talent, you could have had any girl you ever wanted! Becoming a paladin didn't change that- Svorlin knew women! You could have, too!

A strangled sound came from Aslan's lips. His eyes bulged, and the sweat began to pour down his face. His beard grew damp from moisture.

It was her! SHE did this to you! She made you stay away from all this, but SHE never did! She was a hypocrite! You had left- you were free of her! Why didn't you-

The paladin's eyes grew moist with tears.

"Stop it!" Nesco shrieked. She drew Sundancer and pointed the weapon at Unru. "Stop it, or I'll-"

"No!" Argo shouted.

Nesco looked over at her fellow ranger with disbelief. "Argo, tell me you hate Aslan so much that you want to see him suffer this way!"

"I don't hate Aslan, Nesco," Bigfellow replied quietly. "But this is his duel. To win or to lose."

Slowly, Nesco lowered her sword, but she kept a tight grip on the hilt.

"Not to worry, Lady Cynewine," Unru said cheerfully. "I'd gladly make her go away if Aslan just concedes defeat. What say you, oh holy one? Shall we stop this now?"

Aslan's light blue eyes moved to his opponent. Somehow, that seemed to give the tiniest respite. It was easier to focus on the illusionist than the woman, but it still took several deep breaths until he could focus on getting the words out.

"You… can go to Niflheim… do you know where that is, Unru?"

The illusionist nodded, a new smile curving the edge of his mouth.

"Have it your way, then. Or should I say, have it her way?"

Unru gestured and the woman stopped dancing and walked right up to Aslan.

The paladin thought he might actually faint. His knees were threatening to buckle.

My Lord, I can SMELL her!

And he could. She was wearing some kind of mild, flowery scent in her hair- honeysuckle, perhaps, but her skin had a naked scent that was new and yet familiar. He couldn't focus on Unru anymore- the woman was blocking his view. She was filling his whole world now. He couldn't think of anything or anyone else.

"Aslan."

The paladin's eyes jerked upward to meet those of the woman.

Surprisingly, they were kind eyes. Her face was that of a lover, not a predator.

"Aslan," she whispered, so no one else could hear. "It's all right. You don't have to be afraid."

He could feel her breath on his face.

All-Father, I'm going mad. Please don't let her touch me. It's a figment; there is no reality here-

The woman slipped her arms down around Aslan's neck. The soft skin of her forearms brushed by Aslan's cheek.

He was completely lost; looking up into her eyes, in her arms, in the feelings that she stirred in him. Feelings gone so long; he'd told himself they were dead.

Elrohir heard a slight sound that made him glance over to his right.

Nesco had turned away from the scene again. She was sobbing quietly.

"Don't worry, Aslan," the woman said softly. Every movement her lips made seemed the most important thing in the world to the paladin. His eyes drank it all in. "Don't pay attention to Unru; to any of them. I 'm not- I don't care about any of them. All I want is you. If you'll let me, Aslan. I'll teach you how. Will you have me?"

So soft, so safe. He felt his lips moving forward-

"She's evil, paladin- a temptress! Destroy her!"

Unru burst into laughter again, and half the room joined him.

But even as the laughter tore through his heart, the shock of it snapped Aslan back to reality. He couldn't see Unru- the woman was blocking his view; but just for a few moments, the paladin's mind started to think again.

You can't give in, even if you want to. It will show them all that you regret the choices you've made in your life. Even if you do submit to her, you'll be clumsy and inexperienced, like a young boy. They'll laugh all the harder, and once she vanishes, you'll feel emptier than ever.

Aslan tried to run through his options. Unru having noticed the paladin's hesitation, the woman had stopped where she was.

Destroy her, Unru had said. That was certainly easy enough. His cold iron longsword was lying on the floor near him, but he didn't even need that. He could change into Grock the ogre and-

No! That's the worst thing you could do! That will show everyone just how scared you really are of women!

Panic was setting in again. Fresh tears were welling up in the paladin's eyes. Rage at what he truly was inside was making his fists clench. He wanted to reach down and grab his sword; not for use on the woman, but on himself.

"There's nothing I can do." The whispered words trickled out involuntarily through clenched teeth.

Unru not hearing those words, the woman did not react to them.

"Whatever I do, it's going to play into Unru's hands," he continued, as the tears rolled down his cheeks again. "Why did I agree to this battle? I can't-"

Aslan stopped. It was as if an invisible hand from above had gently grasped him and stopped him from shaking. He glanced around quickly, seeing Nesco's tear-streaked face once again looking at his. Argo too; stone-faced, glaring at the paladin.

Battle. That's it! That's what Bigfellow was trying to tell you, you fool! This isn't a moral drama. That's what Unru wants you to think, but it's not- it's a duel!

The pieces started to fall together. Aslan's eyes narrowed and he straightened himself up to his full five-foot, six-inch height and took a deep breath.

Unru looked wary. The woman changed expression similarly, but she kept her arms around the paladin.

Aslan considered. This is still going to take more courage than you've ever shown in these matters.

"Have to start somewhere," the paladin muttered to himself.

He had to hurry. The woman was starting to excite all of his senses again. If he didn't act now, he would-

Aslan smiled broadly- if a little shakily- reached back behind him and gently removed the woman's arms from his neck.

Here goes nothing.

"My dear lady!"

Aslan's deep voice rang out clearly. He shook his head sadly at the image.

"You don't want a stuffy, inexperienced paladin! A creature as beautiful as yourself deserves only the finest specimen that mankind has to offer! The man no woman can resist- and here he is now!"

And Aslan used his Talent.

The tan skin. The brown hair and eyes. The mustache and goatee. The dark trousers and multi-pocketed yellow shirt.

There were now two Unrus in the room.

Following the involuntary lead of its creator, the woman took a step backwards in confusion.

Aslan plunged on ahead.

"Let's not waste time on the preliminaries, shall we?"

And with that, the false illusionist grabbed his trousers and pulled them down to his knees, exposing his linen undershorts.

Gasps sounded from around the room. Elrohir looked around at his friends. Everyone looked equally shocked. Even Tojo seemed transfixed by this display.

"Elrohir," Argo said, his eyes wide at the bizarre scene before them. "I think he's finally cracked."

"Behold!" the paladin shouted to the woman. "The true measure of a man! My dear creature, gaze upon the mighty Unru and be awed!"

And he yanked the undershorts down.

Nesco shrieked again and tore her head away.

She was just starting to cry again- it seemed that all her thoughts about Aslan and herself were irretrievably polluted now- when she heard gasps, and then titters.

And then the room exploded with laughter.

The ranger couldn't help but look.

Confusion was her first reaction. Aslan, or Unru, or whoever it was- seemed to have… nothing there between his thighs. Nothing at all.

Then she saw them. What every man had.

And despite herself, a broad smile spread across Lady Cynewine's face.

They were so small. She could have fit all of it in the palm of her hand.

Aslan looked down and assumed a shocked demeanor.

"Oh, blast! I forgot! I do apologize, my dear lady," he addressed the image. "I'm usually quite careful to have something adequate prepared."

And here the fake Unru's face twisted into a guilty grin, like a small boy caught in mischief and trying to talk his way out of it.

"After all, I am the master of illusion!"

If Nesco thought the laughter couldn't get any louder, she was mistaken. Now Wainold and his men, and even Sir Menn and Sitdale were howling at the real Unru.

Nesco Cynewine let the laughter wash over her. It cleansed the sorrow from her and made everything all right again. She let out a loud whistle.

"That's the way! Go on, Aslan! Show him what you've got!"

Her ears turned unexpectedly turned red. Nesco glanced over to see Bigfellow looking at her, a puzzled expression on his face.

She shrugged, assuming a faux-guilty expression of her own. "In a manner of speaking, of course."

Argo smiled.

The woman vanished. Unru looked around at the room. The tide had completely turned against him.

He did not lose composure, however. The illusionist simply let the laughter go on until it subsided.

"Well, well," Unru declared. "So the paladin has a pair, after all."

"More than you, apparently," muttered Sir Menn, who leaned against the adjacent Sitdale in a renewed fit of chuckling.

A scowl flashed across Unru's face as he glared at the knight but was then replaced by a tight grin as he looked back at his duplicate, who was pulling up his pants now.

"The game's not won yet, Aslan! Here's a little something for you- this is a conversation I overheard a few years back. I know you weren't there of course but tell us all what you make of it!"

Reverting back to his own form, Aslan watched warily as Unru strode over to Zantac, yanked his hat of disguise off the other wizard's head and slapped it on his own head before turning to face Aslan again.

Be careful, the paladin's inner voice warned him. Unru's no fool; he isn't going to throw something else at you that you can simply turn back on him this time.

Unru waved the fleece around, and he wove his magic again.