Disclaimer - I do not own the rights to the witcher 2 or to Iorveth. they are not mine, however the female character in this story is.

A / N - a one shot of Iorveth. i might continue to develop this, depending on what people think/ if i have the time. thanks, and enjoy!

Filthy dh'oine, thought Iorveth scathingly as he watched the young woman enter the forest. His forest, his territory. He balanced himself expertly on the branch he was sat on, high up in one of the trees, a bow and quiver of arrows hitched on his back. His hands twitched, ready to take an arrow and fire it through the human's skull. Yet he was curious as he watched her walk in trepidation, stepping through the undergrowth. She tripped over a protruding tree root and he bit back a malicious laugh. Evidently, she had rarely ventured through here before. Her stupidity was laughable as she crashed through a bush, unaware of what monsters lurked in the shadows and the waters, though the scoia'tael were a lot more dangerous than whatever creatures she would find here. Curiosity tugged at him as he wondered what she was doing here, what her purpose was… He had no fear that she had been sent to look for scoia'tael; she had only but a dagger tucked in her belt, hardly dangerous. Or had she been sent? One could never be too sure with disgusting humans. Iorveth despised them all, even this one – her obvious beauty would be no exception.

She vanished from his line of sight, and he hopped from tree to tree to follow her.

Lorella stumbled through the undergrowth, panic rising up inside her. The innkeeper of Flotsam, Dyson, had sent her out in search of flowers. Fucking flowers. For his wife, or whatever poor soul he was romantically involved with. Why he couldn't have done his own dirty work was beyond her. Deaf to her stammering insistently about monsters and Squirrels in the forest, he'd thrust a rusty dagger at her and practically thrown her out of the inn's back door, barking that he had an inn to run, he couldn't swan off looking for flowers. To emphasis his loutish point, he added that because Lorella was a woman, she'd know good flowers when she saw them. He had slammed the door in her face with the threat that if she wanted to keep her job, she would come back with something nice.

At first, Lorella scouted the market and stalls in the square. A futile attempt, for the vendors stocked nothing but wilted daffodils; her life wouldn't be worth living if she went back with those. Instead, she decided to ask Cedric on her way out of Flotsam if he knew of such plant life – sadly, he was nowhere to be seen in Lobinden. She was very much tempted to think 'fuck it' to her job as a cook and maid at the inn. It hardly paid much and she worked ridiculously long hours. She recalled one time how Margot approached her one night at the inn and offered her a job as one of her 'girls'.

"It would be good pay," Margot had muttered with a wink, so as not to be overheard. "And with a body like yours, men would be lining up to have a go."

Embarrassed and blushing beetroot, Lorella had stammered that she would think about it. Of course, the offer was tempting, but the thought of having strange men grope and pull her this way and that made her feel sick to her stomach. She would rather not men 'have a go' on her, though still remained sorely tempted by the prospect of an easier job and more gold. And now, she thought to herself furiously, here she was, having been sent on a ridiculous errand by a boss she despised.

She did her best to stay alert, dashing into bushes whenever she heard the slightest noise. She was hardly equipped for this. At least if she did die at the hands of some Drowner, then Dyson would hopefully think twice about pulling this stunt again. Or not. Either way, it sure beat looking for non-existent flowers.

What about scoia'tael? The thought struck her and she began to panic again. She'd seen wanted posters around town, a reward for their leader – Iorveth? Fear flooded her stomach as she tried not to imagine what would happen if they crossed paths, undoubtedly with the rest of his troupe. A rustle of trees overhead caught her attention as she felt numb with fright, trying to spot any inkling of an elven warrior. Gulping hard, she began walking her path again, this time clutching the rusty dagger in her hand just in case.

Damn it.

She had almost seen him.

Iorveth inwardly cursed his clumsiness as he became distracted for a fraction of a second and stumbled on a branch. Thankfully, the human could not distinguish him through the tree leaves. Stupid dh'oine and their pathetic senses. No wonder they were easy prey. He smirked maliciously as he watched her progress, darting into bushes at each sound. He couldn't help notice the white skirts she was wearing, how the fabric hung gracefully and framed her buttocks as she walked, hips swaying hypnotically…

No. He would not feel attraction to a human. They were all the same: selfish, sly, and murderous. Stupid, unintelligent creatures. They would achieve whatever means they had to for their own needs. He had lived for many hundreds of years – he did not forget, would not forget, what he had experienced that made him this way inclined. Throughout his life he had discovered that all dh'oine shared the same likeness as them all. He would not be fooled.

The human stopped momentarily as she stooped to inspect a cluster of plant life, several of beautiful colours. Iorveth saw the way her large breasts nearly spilled over her chemise – pale, flawless skin peeking over her top… He felt his crotch stir. However, he had no time to feel furious with himself as he heard a scuttling, his elven ears straining to find the source of the sound. Through the thicket, his eyes snapped onto Endrega – a queen from the looks of it – its pincers held open wide as it advanced towards the young woman.

As much as it would please him to see this dh'oine dead, he had not wasted his time and followed this human's wanderings all this time to watch some other creature take the pleasure in killing her. He quickly took his bow in one hand, arming it with an arrow before aiming carefully. The twang of a bowstring sounded through the forest as an arrow landed itself expertly right into the monster's brain. It collapsed with a thud, and the human woman looked around wildly, completely unaware of what had taken place. Her gaze found him, and her eyes became wide with fear. She was at his mercy down.

He leapt down from the tree branch, landing lithely in front of this human. His eyes narrowed suspiciously at her stance. The hand holding the bow flexed slightly, urging to put an arrow through her skull, too.

"What are you doing here, dh'oine?" he snapped, nearing towards her as she backed away slowly. Or tried to, at least – she wasn't leaving here alive.

"Flowers," she replied stupidly, amber eyes flicking around the clearing, looking for a way out.

"You cannot escape," he said bluntly, following her gaze. His own eyes drifted down to her heaving bosom, observing the tender flesh of her large breasts, then down to her narrow waist. He snapped his attention back to her, doing his utmost to remain resilient to her curvaceous body. "Answer me, before I take your life."

"I – I am looking for flowers," she said, her voice trembling with fear.

Iorveth laughed mercilessly. "Flowers? Are you truly as stupid as you look? There are hardly any that bloom here. Who sent you?"

"Dyson, the innkeeper –"

"A likely story." He neared closer to her, causing her to back away furthermore and hit against a tree. He grabbed the dagger from her hand and flung it aside. Now she was truly helpless.

"Please, I had no choice," she pleaded, her breathing coming in short gasps. She was going to die. That was inevitable.

"I do not believe you, dh'oine," the elf spat, reaching into his quiver for an arrow. "It was foolish of you to come here."

"Voe'rle," she whimpered, holding up her arms to shield herself.

Shocked, Iorveth relaxed the bow. How did this human know Elder Speech? He watched her cower pathetically. "Explain yourself," he demanded.

She opened her eyes and looked mildly relieved, though knew she wasn't safe yet. "I am a quadroon – my mother was half-elf and knew the Elder tongue and thought to teach me. I am not fluent in the language –"

"That may be," said the elf, cutting her off and coming back to his senses. His cold manner returned. "You still entered scoia'tael territory, and you must pay the price."

"I'll do anything, please, don't kill me," said the woman, falling to her knees, desperate to keep her life. Her breasts wobbled as she fell to the forest floor, giving him a spectacular view down her flimsy vest.

Watching her beg for her life was oddly arousing. Idly, he wondered if he could make her beg for something more…

"Take me as a captive, as a slave, anything, just don't take my life." She looked up at him through molten amber eyes full of tears.

Iorveth continued to survey her suspiciously. "What use have I with a dh'oine? You would give up your free life so willingly?"

She nodded vigorously. "I would like to live, even if not as a free woman. I can cook and clean –"

Iorveth held up a hand to silence her, tiring of her incessant babbling. By the Gods, humans talked too much. Especially female ones.

"I do not require either of those things."

Her mouth opened in shock, and she hung her head in dismay. Here, she will undoubtedly meet her end, at the hands of this murderous elf who enjoyed messing with people's lives, toying with their hope.

"What is your name?" he commanded.

"Lorella."

He snorted. "Stand up, and look at me when I speak to you. Show some respect."

It was evident from the look on her face that the last thing she desired to show him was respect. She glared at him as she brushed off debris from the forest floor.

"If," he began, stressing the word, "if I let you live, you still have to pay the price for trespassing, or you shall suffer my… displeasure." He relished the shock and fear that flitted over her face, before holstering his bow. He considered her appearance for a moment, taking in the chestnut brown hair that fell in loose ringlets below her shoulders, the flawless porcelain skin and liquid topaz eyes… Iorveth allowed his eyes to wander past her shoulders and lingered on her voluptuous breasts. Lorella fidgeted beneath his gaze awkwardly, but he took no notice. His gaze moved down to her narrow waist, her wide hips and lithe legs.

"Turn around," he demanded, "and put your hands on the tree where I can see them."

Afraid, and very much reluctantly, Lorella complied. In order to obey, she had to lean forwards slightly, and placed her delicate hands upon the tree bark. She felt the elf's gaze rake her backside, drinking in the roundness of her buttocks. Without warning, he grabbed her waist and slammed her into the tree, his weight pressing up against her. Through his leather trousers she could feel the inevitable hardness of an erection.

"Consider this paying your debt," he hissed in her ear, his voice containing no gentle emotion, only harsh intentions. She smelt the fresh scent of grass and herbs as he bit her neck, causing her to cry out in shock. A hand slid up her chemise and over her breasts, beneath which her heart beat erratically, threatening to burst out of her ribcage. His cock pulsed as he discovered the absence of a bra, continuing to massage her breasts as his length pushed against the fabric of his trousers.

He deftly untied his trouser laces and allowed the garment to fall into a pool at his feet. His length sprung free of its prison and he pushed it up against Lorella. She remained still and compliant, gritting her teeth as she knew what events were about to unfold. Iorveth pulled down her skirts, albeit a lot gentler than she had expected, and ordered her to step out of them. A gentle breeze blew against her naked buttocks and between her legs which, despite feeling afraid, had become moist.

"Let me see how wet you are, whore," rasped Iorveth, rubbing her sex. She gasped at the sensation, her juices coating his fingers easily. He inserted two digits, moving them around inside her as she moaned and pushed herself against him instinctively. He performed this act rather roughly, moving his fingers in and out of her pussy fast. She felt herself ooze more as he began to use his thumb to rub her clit, massaging in circles.

"Are you ready for my cock?" he asked, though needed no reply. He spat into his hand and lubricated his length, before teasing it about her entrance. He slid in almost effortlessly, feeling her stiffen in surprise and hiss in mild discomfort. Her pussy was so tight and felt glorious and he pushed the entirety of his cock into here, right up to the balls. Lorella whimpered as she felt eight inches move about inside her. Not only was Iorveth long, his girth was impressive too. It felt good but also painful at the same time as his huge cock forced her body to accept him.

He wasted no time in picking up a fast pace, the only sounds being Lorella's moans echoing around the clearing and the soft slap of the elf's balls against the woman as he proceeded to fuck her. In a swift move he picked up one of the woman's legs and held it up at a slightly awkward angle, allowing her pussy to open wider for him. This position allowed Iorveth's length to nudge her g-spot repeatedly, causing her to cry out at this newfound sensation. She felt her orgasm creep up on her slowly, filling her up, pushing her to the brink of ecstasy. The elf continued to pound away, hitting that sensitive area, until Lorella finally couldn't take anymore. Her orgasm tipped her over the edge; she cried out loudly as she came, squirting her juices over the forest floor. Legs trembling slightly, she felt Iorveth continue to pound, not acknowledging the mess she had made over him. Pussy juices continued to drip down her leg and onto Iorveth's cock, which added more lubrication. He revelled in this sensation, picking up tempo even more. Lorella's cries became screams the harder he thrust, almost becoming unbearable. She was so tender now, and was on the brink of telling him to stop, before she thought better of it. She knew he wouldn't take kindly into being told what to do. Instead, she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as Iorveth forced himself into her over and over again.

"Make me come," he hissed in her ear, letting go of her leg and wrapping his hand around her throat. She choked as he gripped firmly, though forgetting about this as he spanked her left buttock hard. Undoubtedly he had left a hand print there. "I said make me come, you filthy human whore. Do as you're told and moan for me."

She complied and moaned loudly, enough for him to voice his pleasure. "Does my cock feel good inside your cunt?"

"Yes." She gasped as his hand tightened around her throat momentarily.

"Yes, sir," he corrected her. She earned another sharp spank on the same ass cheek for this.

"Yes, sir," she repeated. "Your cock is so big and feels so good."

"That's what I thought."

Iorveth's moans became more pronounced as his thrusts became slower and harder. Lorella felt hot seed spill inside of her pussy, his cock twitching after several short bursts. Suddenly, he released her, as if afraid of contaminating himself. Without preamble he got dressed again and threw Lorella her skirts towards her. Uncertainly, she clothed herself. Could she go now? Perhaps it would be better to voice this?

"Can I leave?" she asked tentatively, watching as the elf laced up his trousers. As she stood still, she could feel Iorveth's cum spill out from her and trickle down her leg. Embarrassed, she hoped he wouldn't notice.

He approached her and this time she didn't move away. Her eyes darted over his handsome face, taking in every strenuous detail: the curved nose, the strong jaw, the scar above his lip and the way he held himself proudly.

"For now," he said in a dangerously quiet voice. "Your debt is not yet fully paid, young dh'oine." His expression remained hard and shrewd, and he reached up to move a tendril of hair from her face. She flinched slightly, to which he smirked. It pleased him that this beautiful human was still afraid of him.

He moved his face closer to hers before whispering, "I know where you live. And I will come looking for you again – if you do not find me first," he added somewhat threateningly. However Lorella knew better; his voice was laced with desire and he continued to gaze lustfully at her plump lips and svelte body. He knew that she interpreted this that their liaisons had only just begun.

Lorella watched him walk away, eyes on his behind. He turned back to look at her and gave her a strange look, and what looked to be a ghost of a smile playing about his mouth, before he effortlessly scaled a tree trunk and disappeared into the mass of leaves and branches. Lorella made her way back to Flotsam, not caring that she hadn't picked Dyson his accursed flowers. She felt her tenderness as she walked and couldn't help but smile. It was then she realised that she couldn't wait to see Iorveth again.