Acts of Love

Come morning, Lily was still wakeful. She had not closed her eyes since Ghorbash returned to his bed. The brief rest she had the previous day was not enough, but her mind churned too much for sleep to take her.

He confused her. She could see his lust for her, could almost smell it on him. Was this a game he played? Keeping her always in fear of his assault, the better to enjoy her cries and struggles when he finally fulfilled his promise? It was a new one, she had to admit. Phane had never kept her guessing. His men never failed to do exactly what they said they'd do, as soon as they said it.

Perhaps Orc men did things differently. That would explain why Nagrub and Umurn kept their distance. They but waited for their leader, Ghorbash, to take the first bite.

But he rejected her. Clearly, he wanted her on his own terms. Her offer implied willingness, which was not a man's preference. It was little wonder why he retreated.

"Kit. I would like to speak with you."

Startled, Lily turned over and looked up at Ghorza. She had a grim expression on her face. Sitting up, the Nord glanced down at Ghorbash's shirt, still engulfing her spare frame. It smelled like him, a not unpleasant sensation. Her brow furrowed.

"Ghorbash told me what you did," the Orsimer woman said awkwardly. She sat stiffly on the edge of her own bed, gripping her knees tightly. She was glad Murbul sent the Nord to bed again, rather than allow her to risk all at the forge. The sleeping room was empty, for all were about their duties already. Drawing a shuddering breath, she said, "You do not need to... you owe him no such payment."

"I know," Lily replied quietly. "I understand now."

"Do you?" Ghorza asked. She arched her brow skeptically. "Tell me what you 'understand.'"

"I understand that he wishes me to love him."

"That is right," the smith said, nodding. "Do you know why?"

"So that he may... please me."

"Yes," Ghorza replied with relief. "He wants nothing more than to please you." The nearly expressionless look on Lily's face, however, made the Orsimer wary. Narrowing her eyes, she asked, "Do you understand what love is?"

"It is humiliation and pain," Lily answered. "It is fucking. It is..."

"No, it is not!" Ghorza cried, horrified. Lily started at her friend's sudden outburst. "Kit, that is not what it is!"

"We were lied to, Ghorza!" Lily wailed. Grabbing the Orsimer's arms, eyes blazing, she hissed, "They say we must desire a man's touch, and long for his kisses, but only to trap us. It is a ruse. Do not fall for their lies! Do not believe them!"

Ghorza slowly shook her head. She no longer recognized Kit in the woman before her. "No, Lily. You were lied to, it is true, but not the way you think."

Releasing her, Lily's face crumpled. Tears began to form in her eyes and her voice trembled. "If it was not a lie, what... what I knew before... then why... why did my mother disdain my father's touch?"

"I do not know what lay in your mother's heart," Ghorza said cautiously, "but what I do know of her, just from... rumor, is that... she married below her station. It is believed, by those who care about such things, that... they were... careless."

Frowning in confusion, Lily tilted her head. "What are you saying?"

Taking a deep breath, Ghorza replied, "This is rumor only, you understand. It is believed that... your father got her with child. Your mother's family was... upset, understandably. Shame enough for their daughter to lie with a mere huntsman, worse to have issue from such a tryst. Sometimes I wonder if the Reach is not too close to High Rock, for these are Breton concerns more than Nord. Regardless, I suspect your mother's... dislike of your father had more to do with a loss in position than fear of his touch."

"But... Ghorbash has position, and I do not."

"He only has 'position' if he chooses to have it, and he has decided against pursuing such claims," Ghorza explained. "Kit, he is a good man. He does not deceive you. If you cannot trust him, then believe me when I tell you that he wishes only to please you."

"Pleasing is fucking, also," Lily said dully. "Why men believe they must use all manner of words for it, I do not understand."

"Here, now," Ghorza said firmly, "I will teach you new words. To please is not to fuck. It is to give pleasure. That can take any form. If he gives you a lovely flower and you smile, then he has pleased you. If he gives you... his shirt to sleep in, for you are naked and cold, and you are warmed by it, he has pleased you. If he kisses you, and your heart flutters, then he has pleased you. Do you understand?"

"I... think so," Lily replied slowly. "It is not what I was taught..."

"You were told lies by those Forsworn dogs," Ghorza growled. "It was they who lied to you. Did Dibella lie when she sent you here to cleanse your body of that man's filthy issue? Did she lie when she said you should seek Malacath's favor in this place? No, she did not."

"His favor," Lily whispered, fearful as she had been last night. "Ghorbash entreated him for me. Do you not see? If I deny the will of Malacath, he will curse me, will he not?"

"I refuse to believe even Malacath is so cruel that he would enslave you. More likely that he tests you."

"Tests?" the Nord cried. "Have I not been 'tested' enough? I failed! I am weak! I used base methods to slay my enemies! A coward's way! My father would be so angry with me." Lily burst into tears, covering her face with her hands.

"You swore an oath, and you fulfilled it," Ghorza explained patiently. How many times had she been told when she despaired, that the testing by Malacath made Orsimer stronger? "You had the strength within you to do so. What you did to free yourself... it was what needed to be done."

"I pretended enjoyment of Phane's treatment," Lily said, raising her wet eyes to her friend's. Her voice shook with despair. "I acted... the whore... so he would be kinder. So he would... make the others... stop. I do not want Ghorbash to know this."

"He has already guessed it," Ghorza said, wincing. "It is my belief, though he has not said it, that he wishes you had not slain them. He deeply regrets that he cannot avenge you himself."

"I should not have disdained his offer," Lily sobbed, bowing her head. "I wished... so badly... for him to come for me. But then... he would have known my shame. I did not want him to know of it. I hoped to take it to my grave."

Reaching out, Ghorza gently lifted Lily's tear-streaked face and looked in her eyes. "You thought of him, while you suffered?"

Lily nodded. "Thoughts of him... were little comfort. My value was erased when I was taken the first time, and diminished further with each fuck that followed. I knew he could not want me."

Though she had heard the tale already, it never ceased to make her ill. Ghorza shook her head. "A woman's value is not... between her legs."

"My mother told me...," Lily began, frowning. Ghorza interrupted.

"Your mother wished you to gain the position she lost, and so restore it to her," Ghorza flared. "She would tell you anything to ensure the opportunity would not pass her by."

"But... my innocence would ensure such opportunities arose, would it not?"

"Only for those who treasure such things," the Orsimer growled. "Such considerations are not of value here, and likely not anywhere else in Skyrim. Ghorbash does not care that your maidenhead was breached by another. He curses the manner in which it was done." Taking a deep breath, she asked, "Did thoughts of him... give you strength?"

"They filled me with shame." Lily winced and looked away. "I thought he would... gloat. Mock me for my foolishness."

"He would do nothing of the sort," Ghorza said. "I know little of him, it is true, but I cannot imagine that he would ever be so callous to any woman. Tell me, in all truth, forgetting what was done for a moment... Do you care for him?"

"I do not know." Looking up at the Orsimer woman, Lily said desperately, "I am not even sure what it means anymore. So much of what I thought I knew was wrong, and now you say the truth of it... was not true."

"When you look at him, examine your heart," Ghorza suggested gently. "I think you will find that what you remember holds more truth than you thought it did."

"Where is Shel?" Burguk asked, closing his eyes contentedly as Arob massaged his shoulders.

"I care little," the Hunts-Wife replied mildly. "Likely seeing to the mine. She has spent much time in it of late."

"Hmph," Burguk huffed. "That woman can smell gold still buried in the earth. Must have caught a whiff of a vein."

"Let her prowl the mine," Arob murmured, kissing her husband's neck. Burguk smiled, tilting his head to the side to expose more flesh to his wife's mouth. "I have you to myself for a time."

"She wants a child, or she would not insist on so much of my attention," he sighed.

"More like she still seeks to supplant us in your heart."

Burguk chuckled, allowing Arob to ease him onto his back across the bed. "Not possible. I see right through her. She will not fool me as she once did."

Climbing astride her husband's hips, Arob stroked his chest, noting each scar, recalling each story they told. "What says Murbul?"

He shrugged. "Only that her body is not ready." Then his brow furrowed. He looked up at Arob. "Do you still... bleed?"

Arob's eyebrows rose. "Of course. The 'bloody curse' will be upon me in a fortnight or less. Why do you ask?"

"It is no matter," he said quickly. "What of Gharol? Do you know if she still bleeds?"

Chuckling, Arob swatted his chest. "'No matter,' indeed. Do you miss the laughter of children? Has Shel's humiliating failure made you desire it more?"

"You know I do not measure your worth in those terms," he protested. "I was simply curious."

"The little bitch said we did not, eh?" Arob laughed. "No surprise. I imagine she uses such lies to keep your seed all to herself."

Rolling his eyes, Burguk shook his head. "As I said, it is no matter." Then he frowned. "Arob, beloved... I... I do not wish her to bear me a child."

"Why ever not?" the Hunts-Wife asked, surprised.

"I do not want... another Shel in my hold," he muttered.

"Neither do I," Arob replied seriously. "What are you saying, Burguk?"

"I must give it thought, but... with dragons and war coming, I...," he replied uncomfortably. "She weakens me, Arob. I have tried to make her welcome here, as have you and Gharol. Yet she still competes. She still wants my full attention. She warps all I say or do, until I can deny her nothing. I do not understand this."

"You are too easy on her," she replied with a wry smile. "You have grown accustomed to tamed women, for it has been many years since you were last so challenged."

Burguk scoffed and lightly patted Arob's cheek. "'Tamed' my ass. You still buck like an unbroken colt."

"Only when you require it," she shrugged. "Punish her as you did me, when I was reluctant to bend."

"When did I ever punish you?" he grinned, running his hands up her thighs beneath her skirt. "It must have been useless, for I've yet to see you bend."

She smiled and closed her eyes, delighting in the feel of his touch on her bare skin. So longed for, yet denied by the hateful whims of a spoiled bitch. "As I recall, you made me take watch duties on the nights you lay with Gharol."

"It was not a punishment, but a necessity," he murmured. "Your bow has no equal. And your eye is as keen in the night as it is in the day."

"Keen enough to see you in the dark," Arob said softly, unlacing her bodice. "In all your glory beneath the Hunter's Moon, making supplication to Malacath."

"Likely begging forgiveness," he replied, pulling on the ties of his breaches.

"No, it was a ritual of war, as I recall," she breathed, releasing her breasts to his hungry eyes. "Sending your brother off to the Legion to fight. You stole my kill, and I required recompense."

"Stole? No, you mistake now as you did then," he teased. "I found the bear dead. It was a blessing of Malacath." He sighed as his breaches opened, releasing his erection from confinement.

"It was slain by my bow that you so praise," she whispered, taking him inside her.

"Mmmm, no, natural causes," he insisted, closing his eyes and smiling blissfully.

"You'll next tell me it was a she-bear, so overcome with unrequited love that she took her own life rather than... mmm... go on living without your affection."

"Something like that."

"I am... sorry, Ghorbash."

He looked up from the fire before the longhouse. His thoughts had been far away, mulling over their words, trying to think of a way to deny them without hurting her. Now she had come to him on her own. Or perhaps Ghorza had pushed her out the door. Regardless, Lily was here.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he said quietly. "Please. Sit with me." He gestured to one of the logs that were dragged in his youth to surround the firepit. They were old and soft with moss now.

They sat side-by-side, less than a foot apart. Glancing over, he noted her trembling form, yet he kept his silence. Taking a long stick, he idly poked at the logs, sending a flurry of sparks into the air. Lily made a small noise that drew his attention.

"Forgive me," she whispered.

"I know of nothing you have done that requires forgiveness," he said gently.

"They are... lovely," she said. "The tiny flames that fly."

Smiling a little, he offered her the stick. Her hand brushed his lightly as she took it from him. Biting her lip, she copied what he'd done, and was rewarded with her own flying flames.

"I miss it," she said softly. "Hunting with my father."

"As do I," he replied. "The hunting. I never knew my father."

"I know. Gharol told me. I am sorry."

"I used to wonder what sort of man he was," Ghorbash said quietly, staring into the fire. "I was told he was like Burguk. And like me." He chuckled, ducking his head. "Hopeless men, with our women. Loving so fiercely, we lose ourselves."

"Are you lost, Ghorbash?" she asked.

"I am," he nodded. "And I would not wish it otherwise." Turning to look at her, he said, "Hunt with me tomorrow. We need new skins for repairs and armor. Meat for our stores. And I would enjoy the company."

She flinched and eyed him warily. "Leave the stronghold?"

"With me," he said carefully. "Only for the day."

"To hunt."

"Yes. To hunt."

"Is this..."

"No, it is not that hunt," he said uncomfortably. Sighing, he growled, "I wish it had never been said. Ma-Lily, will you come? It is for the stronghold's defense."

"For the stronghold," she repeated, nodding. "Yes. I will come."