Chapter 7

Falling

"The expected always happens."
― Benjamin Disraeli


"Sahar, ya need to move ya bedroll over there," Rin informed his sleepy companion the following morning, as they prepared to descend from the loft. Sahar stared at him with bleary eyes before turning her head to glance at the opposite end of the loft, where a shallow heap of hay sat.

"Why?" She looked back at him incredulously.

"Because when ya be sleepin', ya keep tinking I'm ya boyfriend and I wake up feelin' like I am bein' held captive by an octopus, that's why," he joked, trying to make the profound awkwardness of their conversation less evident.

"You're nothing like Drannord," she stated quietly.

"Heh! He'd wish he could be as good-lookin' as myself." He was grinning cockily as he lowered the ladder, planting it firmly on the ground below. "But don't be tellin' him how ya be cozyin' up to me at night—I don't need some draenei seein' red comin' after me." He'd tried saying it in a lighthearted manner, but when he looked up, instead of a smirk or saucy grin, he found her to be frozen in place, an expression of helplessness on her face. He slapped both his thighs and sat back on his heels. "Ah, Sahar—it be nothin'. Let it go. I just be sayin' somethin' because all that…" He paused, searching for the words while remembering her curvy, warm body spooning his, her hand running down his chest to rest over his abdomen, her breath against his neck. "It be somethin' not intended for me."

"I'm terribly sorry." She nervously tucked a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. "My parents always said I was a restless sleeper. I've been told I tend to talk in my sleep." She bit her lip and averted her gaze. "I don't remember much after I wake up."

"Well, Drannord is a lucky man if ya be missin' him so. I take it ya aren't apart that often?"

She shrugged dismissively, still staring at the corner of the loft where he'd ordered her to set up her bedroll.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "How unpleasant for you," she apologized, but he detected a curious tentativeness to her tone that invited a reply.

He didn't realize what he was saying sounded like until it came out of his mouth.

"Not unpleasant at all," he told her. "I can tink of worse things than having a beautiful woman embrace me at night."

She didn't seem to know what to do with herself. She stared down at her hooves, her tail lightly swishing to and fro.

Oh, shit, he thought inhaling deeply. Let's try to master this 'shut the fel up' skill. If she wasn't uncomfortable around him before, now she would be completely put off by him.

"I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry," he began, drawing in a deep breath. "All I am tryin' to say is: don't feel bad about it." He contemplated the dreary and gloomy barn. Daylight hadn't even broken yet. "We're doin' da best we can, is all." What the heck had that meant? He began lowering himself down the ladder. "We all right, Sahar?"

She seemed to gather herself at last and nodded faintly.

All right my ass. I should've kept my big mouth closed. She probably tinks I'm a creep, taking advantage of her while she's asleep. Make it right, Rin.

"If ya like, I can sleep down here," he told her, gripping the side of the ladder and looking at the bales of hay piled beneath the sleeping loft. "Or outside." She glanced up at last. "Or back in Orgrimmar? I can just go away," he offered playfully. He couldn't read her reaction. Suddenly she seemed so stoic, with her silvery eyes betraying nothing.

"That's not necessary." She peered at him, her expression hardening. "You want to leave that badly?"

"No!" he quickly interjected. "That's not what I be sayin' at all! But if ya do, that be fine. Ya can leave. I can always ask those clowns at Feathermoon for emergency aid because they owe me, for makin' me come out here… Or if ya want me to keep my distance, I will—and don't tink twice about sayin' so. I mean, we be workin' together. I don't want ya to be worryin' around me."

She glanced at the ladder and he thought she was probably choosing her next words.

"Just help me down the ladder," she ordered, squatting by the edge.


"How we be goin' to do this?" he wondered, stepping down a few rungs so that Sahar could position herself.

"You go first and then I'll follow," she decided, gripping the ladder tightly as she secured one hoof then the other over some lower rungs.

Great. If she falls, she'll fall right on my head, he sighed. Just as he had the thought, her hoof slipped.

"Ma-no icta," she muttered to herself, freezing in place. "This isn't going to work."

He halted as well, looking up and resting his gaze on her shapely bottom. He quickly glanced away.

"I can go ask Leighton for a rope. That might be easier for ya."

"I don't want to just dangle here, waiting!" she complained.

"Climb back up, then!"

She firmly planted her hoof on a higher rung, but as she did so, the wood cracked. She gasped and hugged the ladder. They weren't at a vertiginous height, but jumping down would likely result in something bruised, sprained, or even fractured.

"Rin!" she implored. He quickly hauled himself up to her.

"I have an idea." He assessed their predicament. It was a decent solution but it would make their earlier exchange all the more ironic. "Lean against me and we'll go down together, slowly." He didn't know why, but the thought of "together" and "slowly" was wreaking all kinds of mischief in his mind.

Get ya head out of da gutter. Ya be in enough trouble, he scolded himself.

"All right," she agreed, trying not to look down. She began to lower herself, her back leaning against his chest, her head resting against his left shoulder. He held the ladder for dear life as he leaned slightly outward.

"Okie-dokie…Now, put ya hoof over my foot."

She hesitated

"That's a bad idea."

He huffed.

"Just do it."

She shifted slightly and placed her heavy hoof over his bare foot.

"Aiie!" he cried out sharply. She nervously pulled her hoof up, losing her balance and almost sliding down, caught only by his own body shielding her from going any further.

"I told you!" she scolded him.

"Ya did. Ya did," he agreed, grimacing. "Now what?" he puzzled.

She smelled good—a clean, flowery scent. While he was trying not to enjoy her proximity and focus on their conundrum instead of her perfume, she appeared to be wriggling against him and the ladder, thrusting her arm this way and that, gradually rotating until she was facing him.

"I think this might be easier. This way, I can hang on to you as we go down." She slowly and deliberately draped her arms around his shoulders. Their faces were so close that if he leaned in a bit, he could kiss her.

He chuckled.

"What?" She searched his amber eyes.

He shook his head.

"I tink we be destined to be in awkward positions with each other. Ya just gotta laugh, is all."

She smiled and as she drew herself up, he could have sworn she had intentionally pressed herself up against him more than necessary.

"It might be easier if I…" She stopped, looking down between them, trying to sort out the angle. "How about if I just do this?" She raised one of her legs off the ladder and wrapped it around his hip. When she did so, she briefly pushed her pelvis against his groin. He grit his teeth, the sensation igniting his desire. "Do you think you can go down the ladder with me holding you like this?" she asked innocently.

He nodded, dazed. He could feel the throbbing begin between his legs. He had to move fast or she would realize what was happening and have every right to be disgusted.

Her other leg encircled him and she was wedged tightly between him and the ladder.

"Let's do this!" he announced, mustering some phony cheerfulness. She embraced him firmly, her breasts conspicuously pushing up against his chest. He descended the ladder, slightly trembling and not just because of the strain of carrying her. They were halfway down at last when she began to squirm. "What's wrong?"

"I need to adjust myself!" she complained with unexpected annoyance, staring into his eyes. She shimmied her hips, pushing up harder against him. This time he was quite sure the motion was anything but unintentional. She was hugging him tightly, her cheek brushing against his.

"Sahar," he groaned warningly. "This is gettin' out of hand." He was about to yank one of her legs from around his waist when she caressed his neck and nuzzled his cheek with her nose. "What ya be doin'?" he asked bewilderedly.

"What do you think I am doing?" she uttered in a low voice. "How daft can you be?" she huffed. She brought her lips close to his ear. "You said you found me beautiful…I just seized the opportunity to tell you I find you handsome as well." She kissed his ear and let her fingertips trail down his chest.

His resolve crumbled; everything she was doing felt too good. It was his turn to draw her closer against him. She let out a soft moan and positioned herself more directly against his poorly-concealed bulge. She faced him with hooded eyes.

"Can we kiss?" she asked, examining his tusks.

"Oh, yes," he replied. "Just don't move suddenly." He released one hand from the ladder to cup her face and tilt it at the right angle to kiss her. Her lips were full, soft and yielding against his. Her low moans, sighs, and the urgent way she rubbed herself against him was setting him on fire. All he could think of was getting rid of those inconvenient trousers they were both wearing to feel her properly against him. They kissed more deeply and their grinding against each other grew more intense.

Too intense, he realized too late, their enthusiastic make-out session displacing the ladder and causing it to veer forward so that they were falling backward. They both eyed each other with expressions of panic before toppling to the ground.


Rin winced, slightly raising his head. The hay on the floor had broken their fall somewhat, but he'd still had the wind knocked out of him. He grunted loudly, taking in the scene: Sahar was draped over him and the ladder had fallen by their side. After a few seconds, Sahar shook her head and looked up at Rin dazedly before pushing up over him in alarm.

"Are you all right?" she asked worriedly.

He paused before replying, taking stock of himself for a moment. He'd hit the ground flatly, but not that hard. He would be hurting later on, he guessed, and perhaps there would be a bruise or two, but he was not in any kind of worrisome pain.

"I tink I am all right," he declared, rubbing his shoulder where it had struck the ground. "How about ya?"

"You broke my fall." She graced him with one of her charming smiles. "If you'd like, I can help you ease any discomfort," she offered suggestively in a low voice.

He snorted lightly and ran the tip of his tongue over his lips. He shifted beneath her, spreading his legs further apart so she was positioned between them.

"So," he began, "what did ya have in mind?"

She was still smiling when she leaned closer and kissed him. It was a sweet, playful kiss and when she began to laugh, his own laughter rumbled deep in his chest—he didn't even know why. The laughter faded as they continued kissing, their caresses growing bolder, impatiently seeking contact with each other's skin. She slid her hand up and down his thigh, just grazing his cock and driving him wild. He slipped his hand past her trousers' waistband feeling her warm skin. She closed her eyes and gasped against his mouth when he squeezed her bottom and then let his fingers wander further, brushing over her underclothes. Sahar's breath hitched and he couldn't help letting out a low grunt when he stroked her between her legs, finding her promisingly wet against the flimsy fabric. She closed her eyes again and pushed lightly against his hand.

"Oh, Rin," she whispered breathily, her eyes still closed as he caressed her. She was so sensitive, so responsive, he thought, flushing with excitement. Her hand stopped rubbing his thigh and landed over the front of his breeches, tugging roughly at the laces. The promise of what was about to happen, especially once she pulled him and began running her hand up and down his aroused shaft, made him suck in his breath and close his own eyes.

"It's… so... blue!" she said with candid surprise after a brief pause.

He grinned, not opening his eyes. It was taking all his concentration to keep stroking her, making her melt against his fingers, and not lose himself completely to the delicious sensations her hand sliding up and down his cock was giving him.

And he was quite certain that's how Leighton would have found them—he with his hand down her pants, and she with his big blue cock in her fist— for all the world to see once the barn's doors were flung open.

Except that he had heard the warning footsteps over the gravel outside as they hurriedly approached the barn.

"Shit!" he cried, both of them breaking away rapidly. Sahar sprung up, running her hands through her hair to make it look neater, while he tucked himself back into his breeches, nervously doing up the laces. The door began to creak open and Rin seized Sahar's hand as if seeking to have her hoist him up just as Leighton emerged before them.

"Good mor—" Leighton's voice trailed off when he saw Rin rising from the ground with a grimace and the ladder lying flatly on the ground. "What happened here?" he asked with concern.

"We fell off da ladder," Rin explained. It wasn't a lie, after all.

"I might need some rope from now on," Sahar quickly added. Leighton appeared confused. She pointed at her hooves. "They're too big for the rungs."

Leighton nodded slowly.

"I didn't think of that."

"Don't worry!" She smiled broadly. Rin noticed with satisfaction that she was still flushed and slightly out of breath. "A rope will do nicely."

"I'll arrange it," he assured her. "You'll have some by the end of the day."

He pushed past them with two large tin buckets.

"I have to milk the cows today." He glared in the direction of the farmhouse. "Hilda is complaining about some indisposition," he confided.

Uh-huh. Her ailment's called 'troll in da barn.'

The dour-looking young man from the previous day wandered into the room. Rin and Sahar exchanged conspiratorial glances. It was a good thing they had stopped when they did.

Well, relatively speaking, he sighed faintly.

"You've met my boy Ahern," Leighton pat the boy's back as he walked by them with a curt nod, two different buckets in his own hands.

Ahern fetched a small stool hanging off a hook on the wall. Rin caught the longing glance he shot Sahar before trudging towards the stalls.

"What are your plans for today?" Leighton asked.

Rin cleared his throat.

"Today we be collectin' various samples of soil and testin' them."

"We have had the soil tested already. Sent samples of it to our herbalist in town."

"And what did da herbalist say?" Rin wondered, crossing his arms. Sahar was staring unabashedly at his bare chest and muscular arms. A twinge of arousal coursed through him. He held her gaze meaningfully.

"There was nothing wrong, as far as he could tell. He said he was even able to grow some seeds from it. There is no reason for our crops to be failing," Leighton complained frustratedly. A steady "phish-phish" sound came from one of the bays where Ahern was milking one of the cows.

"Who is this herbalist?" Rin asked interestedly. "I would be likin' to have a word with him."

Leighton rubbed his chin.

"Perhaps going into town is a bad idea. Folks are a bit jittery in these parts."

"Then let Sahar go," he suggested.

"No, no…Just…I can invite him here." Leighton nodded to himself, growing more pleased with his solution. "Yes: we'll have him over. I'll ask him to come here."

"In da meanwhile, I'll be conducting my own tests," Rin warned him.

"Of course, of course. Do you need any help? I can spare Ahern for part of this morning and Inga, after lunch." His expression hardened as a thought crossed his mind. "If her mother is feeling better and can spare her, that is."

"No need. Sahar can help me—we be fine."

Sahar nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes. Rin and I, we work together well." She shot him another sultry glance. "Very well."

Rin pressed his lips together to conceal his grin.

Ya little minx!