Pillow Talk

Though Burguk protested, he did so weakly, with little conviction. The Nord looked close to collapse.

"Fine," he relented, glaring at the top of her head. It seemed the only feature she was likely to show when she spoke to him, and he was uncomfortable insisting on more. "See to the side gate, then. Ghak, you're on the front." As the women filed out, he stopped the miner with a hand on her arm. "Keep an eye on her. She has not slept in days." Ghak nodded and went out.

Turning to the others, he thought for a moment, then pointed at Oglub. "You're on patrol inside. It would please me if you also watched over Lily on your rounds. Make sure she doesn't fall asleep, but do not approach her unless there is a need."

"May I share the night's watch with Mahk?" the Orc asked, an ill look on his face. "I have partaken of something particularly foul, and I need to purge my system of the poison."

His back turned, Burguk didn't see the furious glare Shel directed at the miner. Arob had ducked her head to chuckle and also did not see the third wife's expression.

"You have always appreciated my cooking before," she laughed.

"It wasn't dinner," the man replied sourly.

Grunting with annoyance, the chieftain nodded. "See Murbul about your ailment. Mahk, take watch until Oglub is recovered. Mind you, do not forget your duty," he said pointedly to Oglub. He dismissed the men with a wave of his hand.

As the others filed into the sleeping room, Burguk turned to his own chamber, the tapestry still swaying from Shel's passage. He had no desire for the woman, he realized. Not anymore. It had taken a reunion with his first wife, his beloved Gharol, to make him realize he'd been acting a fool. There were many things more satisfying than the vigorous and often degrading play favored by Shel, and while it had entertained him for its novelty, such things grew stale over time. Now, she was undoubtedly awaiting him with her bindings and scourges. Part of him was grateful that Lily had insisted on being outside of the longhouse this night. He shuddered to think of her hearing...

"You are troubled."

Starting, he turned and faced Arob. Like so many of them, she slept unclothed, and was completely at her ease in the dining area in such a state. Sighing, Burguk allowed her to embrace him, and touched his forehead to hers. His hands found their favorite home on her hips.

"She awaits me," he growled.

"She is no executioner, just a woman," Arob murmured.

Snorting a laugh, he pulled his Hunts-Wife closer, stroking her bare back. "Would you despise me if I... if I told you I did not love her?"

"Not at all," she whispered in his ear, nipping the lobe playfully. "I would despise you if you said you did, for I would know it was a lie."

He shivered, and squeezed her. "I should chase her from my bed. It is you I want tonight."

"Come now, love," she chided. "You are chieftain. You must look to the needs of all your folk. Even if some needs are more repellent than others."

He chuckled and gripped her buttocks firmly. "Ah, but you have needs as well, I suspect."

Arob squirmed in his arms and grazed his neck with her tusks. "That is a good point."

"Our bed grows cold, husband," Shel snarled from the doorway. Burguk considered telling her to find a warmer bed elsewhere, but restrained himself. Knowing that wench, she probably would. Reluctantly, he released Arob and stepped back, his eyes lingering on hers for several moments. Her brow puckered with sympathy, then she turned and went into the sleeping room.

Rounding on his wife, he gave her a disgusted look. "I will sleep tonight, and you will keep your fucking hands off me." Then he stomped into the bed chamber.

Shel swallowed hard. If she did not give him a child soon, he would abandon her completely. Already, Arob had hooked him once more. With Gharol also seducing him away from her, Shel found herself again looking for a way to drive a wedge between Burguk and the other two wives.


Standing rigid with her eyes scanning the road and the hills beyond the walls of Dushnikh Yal, Lily pondered. There weren't many in the stronghold, but they each had a role, they each contributed something to the overall health of the community. Working with Gharol on the rough beginnings of the blade for her daughter made Lily feel... good. Useful. Valuable.

Gharol taught her many things that Ghorza had only touched upon. Even Umurn gave good instructions and urged her to try new things. He became less worrisome to her the longer she was in his company, for he only discussed matters related to the forge, not bringing up again Ghorbash and his... hunt.

He still called her ma-Lily, she thought sadly. Perhaps it was fitting, being desired by an Orc. She had been so thoroughly used by her own kind, it was unlikely any of them would want her.

Her father had always sneered at the Orsimer, describing them in such terms that made her believe they were all cutthroats and thieves. Only her friendship with Ghorza, accidentally begun and secretly cherished, taught her otherwise. She suspected her mother would sniff disgustedly, criticize her for squandering her one valuable treasure, and tell her she was only worthy of an Orc whoremaster now.

Yet what could he possibly want with her? The son and brother of chieftains. Valiant member of the Imperial Legion. Forbidden by tradition to take a wife...

Taking a Nord wife would greatly reduce their authority.

Moth's words came back to her, clear as if he were standing beside her on the walkway. Yes, that must be it. Ghorbash desired her body only, for anything more would shame him as much as it would Burguk's sons. He would likely not keep his distance until he had her, either, for men did not deny their lusts for long. If she let him have his way, perhaps he would be satisfied and leave her be. Even if he did not, and came back for more, would it make any difference? Perhaps he would be like Phane, only requiring a suggestion of another's claim to declare her his property that no others were allowed to touch.

The thought of Ghorbash taking her for his pleasure did not disgust or frighten her, but neither did it fill her with any sort of girlish fluttering. She wasn't sure what she felt. Regardless, it was far worse to anticipate a thing, never knowing when it was coming, than to just accept it.

A breeze brushed her cheek, and she realized it was wet.


"Gharol," Arob whispered in the sleeping room. Their beds were next to each other, placed more closely than any others, for they often spoke in the night.

"I'm sorry you are here tonight," Gharol said sympathetically. "And I am certain Burguk is as well."

Arob snorted with grim amusement. "That Shel is such a cunt. Even you have to admit that."

The Forge-Wife narrowed her eyes. "Such words are beneath you, Arob." Yet a smile tugged at her mouth. "Even if they are true."

They giggled behind their hands as they had done years before as younger women. "If I were as much a whore as she is, I would have insisted he have me in the dining area, upon the table if needs be."

"Not a whore's way, if memory serves," Gharol chided with amusement. "Did you not entice him into similar displays in those first few years after he took you as Hunts-Wife?"

"Well," Arob drawled with false modesty, "I was younger then."

"And so Shel is young now," Gharol replied, as if she'd made her point.

"Hmph," Arob snorted, unconvinced. "We have all heard what she favors. Likes a good beating, that one." Her brow furrowed and she shook her head. "It is not a good thing, what she wants of him. Have you seen his face when he has bedded her?"

"I have," Gharol said softly. "It troubled me to see him so. But we needn't worry that he will use such methods on us. He grows weary of her games."

"So he did not seek to apply her scourge to your backside last night?" Arob chuckled.

"I would have told him where to put her scourge if he had dared draw it forth," Gharol sniffed. Arob had to stifle an explosive laugh. The Forge-Wife smiled almost shyly. "He did not seek his own pleasures last night."

"Oh?"

"I suspect you shall find out for yourself when he next takes you to his bed," Gharol said knowingly.


Burguk lay with his back to Shel, a grimace on his face as he listened to her vigorously pleasuring herself. She did this to 'punish' him when he was not interested in satisfying her often humiliating desires, believing he could not resist such a siren call. More times than he cared to admit, he had given in to the temptation. Though he had sometimes found the will to resist, Shel did not seem to care that abusing a woman, even in play, was degrading to him. Taking pleasure in such abuse filled him with guilt. Even the thought of engaging in such things now that Lily had joined them made the chieftain sick to his stomach.

The thought crossed his mind for the first time that perhaps he should consider releasing the woman back to her father's stronghold. It did not sit well with him in any case, to have a wife he did not love. Having a wife whose mere presence cast a shadow over her husband that sapped his will was not acceptable. With war and dragons coming, he could not afford to be weak for any reason. Yet to do so would shame her, and he did not like that idea either.

"Are you quite finished?" he growled as Shel's activities seemed to be winding down. "I would like to get some sleep."

"Am I disturbing you, husband?" she snapped, pressing up against his back and sliding her hand over his hip. "Not many days have passed since you relished your time with me."

To his annoyance, her hand closing over his member caused it to stiffen. He did not suffer treachery from anyone in the hold, least of all his own body. "Do not touch me," he snarled.

"Burguk," she pouted, beginning to stroke him in the way that had always pleased him, though it made him ill tonight. "I would have you inside me."

"Were you not satisfied by your own hand?" he asked, his breath catching for a moment. Damn her!

"I am never satisfied," she breathed in his ear, nipping the ridge. Her hand's motion was bringing him close. "I only seek to please you."

To his shame, the fever Shel inspired weakened him enough to allow her to pull him onto his back and mount him. A few strokes inside her was all that was needed to finish what she'd started. He supposed he could be grateful for a swift ending, at least.

Still astride him, she looked down at his face and smiled. He didn't much like how that smile made him feel.

"Dearest husband," she said softly, "do you not want me to bear you a child?" Without waiting for his answer, she tsked and went on, "However can I fulfill my duty as your wife if you do not lie with me?"

"I have bedded you for months, at the expense of Gharol and Arob," he snapped. "It has done no good."

Shel's expression hardened. "Your best seed is spilled within women past their prime," she replied. His brow furrowed. "Have you not heard it said that when a woman's moon blood ceases, she may no longer bear children?"

"I have heard this, yes," he agreed. "But Gharol and Arob still bleed."

"They have told you that, have they?" she replied, seemingly shocked. "I am surprised."

"Why would you be surprised? They are not as old as you seem to think," he said with a snort.

"Nor as young as you think," she pointed out. "They have not bled once since I arrived, and it has been four months. If they were with child, Murbul would surely know by now. It would seem they may have told you a falsehood."

In all truth, Burguk avoided such intimate matters, considering them to be a woman's province and not a man's business. It was indeed possible that his wives no longer bled, but why would they keep such knowledge from him?

On the other hand, how important was it, really? Shel did not give him the opportunity to ponder this question.

"I want to give you a child, Burguk," she said, beginning to move her hips once more. "But I must have your full attention to do so."