XI. All the fear has left me now/I'm not frightened anymore/It's my heart that pounds beneath my flesh/it's my mouth that pushes out this breath/and if I shed a tear I won't cage it/I won't fear love
"Have I done something?" Calla asked Yazneg softly. From the moment she had stepped out of the tent that morning all eyes were on her; fleeting glances, searching looks, amazed eyes, awe-struck and wondrous looks, were cast her way.
Yazneg gave her his own searching look. "You laid with Azog last night," he said.
"Yes," she said looking away from him, not comfortable speaking of such things with him. "I've laid with Azog many nights."
Yazneg smiled, though it looked more a sneer on his malformed face. "You have not made those sounds before," he told her, remembering clearly his own shock at hearing her more feminine sounds beneath Azog's loud growls. He'd known Azog was starting to care for her but he hadn't realized how much; hearing her moans as they had grown louder and more frequent, he knew Azog cared greatly for her.
Wide eyed and mortified she looked at him. "Could you really hear us?" she asked meekly.
He took no pity on her, he knew she'd enjoyed herself and he couldn't understand it. "What makes you different?" he asked her, his eyes narrowed as he stared hard at her. "Why did he keep you?"
She looked at him startled. "I don't," she stumbled over her words wondering what she was supposed to say. "He had been hurt and I helped him," she told him softly, knowing that was why Azog had not only saved her but why he had not hurt her.
Astonishment cloaked his gray face as he stared at her. "Why would you help him?"
She looked up at him. "Honestly?" she asked shrugging.
His bafflement only grew, for she had helped not only an orc but an orc as large and terrifying as Azog; and had done it for no reason at all. No wonder Azog had taken her for himself, even then she had proven to be kind. He made to ask her another question but he saw Azog behind her and he almost recoiled as he shut his mouth; he did not think Azog would like him asking her those questions.
Calla had come to learn that when Yazneg withdrew from her it was because of Azog, and she turned to him with a small smile. "Hello," she said when he stopped in front of her.
"How is your day?" he asked, the corners of his mouth just barely curled – he did not notice, but she did.
"Alright," she answered with a shrug, she did not think he would take kindly if she told him having all the orcs eyes on her made her uncomfortable, so she did not mention it. "How is your day?"
"Good. Go back to the tent," he answered.
She continued looking up at Azog as Yazneg translated, and from the look in his eye she did not ask why. He barked a word and she looked to see Daisy running to her.
"We are leaving, we should back on the morn," Yazneg said, telling her Azog's next words.
She turned to Yazneg with wide eyes. "You are leaving me for the night?" she asked looking back to Azog.
He stared down at her large eyes as Yazneg translated. He did not want to leave her for the night, not without Yazneg to ensure she would be both safe and there when he returned – but Yazneg was one of their fastest riders and they needed supplies so he had to come.
"She asks if she will be alone," Yazneg said, suspicion in his voice.
Azog might have turned hot eyes to the orc for daring to show any ill thought toward her, but his own suspicions had risen. "A few orcs will remain here to keep our camp and see to the wargs," he told her and waited for her response.
She sighed when he did not say Yazneg would stay with her, for though she did not feel entirely safe with him she knew he would not hurt her in fear of Azog. Now she was being left alone with a number of orcs she did not know or trust, nor did she know if Azog trusted them. And so she looked up at him dismally. "Why can't you stay?" she asked softly, feeling as though she were child begging her father not to leave her for work.
Azog's eyes softened when Yazneg, who was just as surprised, told him what she'd said. He raised a hand to her chin, and she felt his touch as though his arms were encircling her. "I will return to you on the morrow," he told her, knowing he was allowing for weakness, knowing it was not the place to show her his affections. She smiled turning her head down, looking almost bashful before she turned toward the tent calling Daisy to her side; her smile had been beautiful, breathtaking to him, and it had been entirely worth any amount of gentle weakness if only to see her smile.
Daisy had been growing rapidly, her head now reaching the top of Calla's waist, her jaws powerful enough to rip her apart. Calla had seen Daisy tear an animal with her teeth, dominate every male her age with ferocity enough to frighten them; but in that moment, the first they'd had together to in months, she was a warg pup nestling against her mother's side as she laid down, trying her best to crawl back into her dress to lay between her breasts – the sound of Calla's heart a rhythmic beat that Daisy's drummed in tune with. In that moment Cally lay on her side wrapping her arms around the warg, and Daisy's tongue often caressing her neck with the sweetest of kisses.
Calla woke to Daisy's vicious growl, her hackles raised and her eyes blazing as she stared toward the entrance to the tent. Calla placed a hand on Daisy's side, feeling her heart racing in fear; though it was an unjust fright for an orc scooted a piece of wood used as a plate through the tent's flaps and then skulked away, duly frightened by the warg. Daisy ceased growling but she stayed sitting erect at Calla's side, glaring at the tent flaps should anything return; Calla ate the breast of a deer she'd been given, one of the rare few the orcs had caught, and gave the bone with some meat on it to Daisy. When they both finished eating Calla laid back down and Daisy laid her heard over her hip, still watching for any sign of danger.
Azog and the others did not return the next day, though this was not uncommon or noteworthy to the orcs that had remained at camp it worried Calla. Several different thoughts raged through her mind, of Azog being hurt again, of him being dead though she had trouble picturing anything killing him, Azog deciding not to return; she thought of him all day, wishing for him at her side, and she dreamed of him all night – dreams where he held her to his chest, where he made her scream in the most exulting ecstasy imaginable. She was woken again by Daisy, though the warg was not growling nor were her hackles raised in alarm, she stood over Calla watching for the orc she knew was coming. Calla waited thinking it was the orc bringing her food, though Daisy had growled every time he came near, and she nearly jumped to her feet when she saw Azog enter the tent.
He had not wanted to roam a day longer, raiding another village – though their supplies had surmounted greatly from what they'd taken from the villages; and he may not have admitted it, but he had been afraid she would not be here when he returned. A weight left him at seeing her, and his body burned when she stepped to him, her small hands planted flat against him as she pressed a kiss to his chest; he nearly purred at the feel of her tongue on his skin and he felt the blood swell in his groin as he hardened. In seconds her dress pooled on the ground his loincloth following suit, and he entered her before he'd even laid her on the ground. He lasted only minutes, the feel of her around him again too much for the width of his desire; he knew from her soft moans her own release had been coming, but he'd finish before he could please her – something that frustrated him for he had wanted to please her as well, but his greed had taken hold and he'd lost all gentleness and care. But he was left lying over her breathing heavily feeling she was wet and aroused, and he'd never wanted anything more than to be ready to take her again.
But he wasn't, and so he rolled off of her. She ached with a fierce desire for him to be inside her again, having never thought the way he filled her would complete her so; she was left empty when he'd turned on his back, slipping limply out of her. She placed her head on his chest, having yearned for the feel of him the night before; yearned in a way that almost frightened her with how she had come to need him in order so she could breathe. He slid out from underneath her and reached for the brown sack he'd dropped at seeing her, and he pulled a dress out of it and held it to her. She sat up surprised with a smile as she held the dress to her chest, seeing it looked about her size; it was a lovely green color, and she could see that from the sleeves it would hang from her shoulders. He took the dress from her and laid it aside, stroking her breasts briefly before he reached back into the sack.
She gasped when she saw the hair clip, one more extravagant than she'd ever before seen. It was silver with a swirling design carved into it, and embedded in the design were small pearls; it was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever given her. "Thank you," she said, her eyes flicking to his before they looked back to the clip. She couldn't have kept herself from smiling if she'd wanted to as she pulled her hair back into a bun and put the clip in place. She looked at him when she'd finished to see him watching her with the smallest of smiles curling the corners of his mouth. There wasn't a single thought in her head as she moved, at least not a conscious thought; but she moved toward him and stood on her knees as she took his face in her hands and kissed him. It was brief and light but it shocked him motionless as she pulled back to look at him; he did no more than blink at her, no words or thoughts to express what her mouth on his had felt like only that he wanted to feel it again. As though she saw the want in his eyes she pressed her lips against his once more, holding them there as he slowly melted into her.
He lowered her to the floor, regretfully having to pull away from her soft full lips so he could take her again; his every movement, his thrusts, his hands on her breasts teasing her nipples – everything he did, he did to please her. To hear her moaning under the weight of pleasure, her head thrown back, her hands around his waist and her hips raising to meet his; everything he did was to bring her to a release, one that wracked through her body and made her spine quiver. And then he brought her to another, and his own release followed shortly after; thrusting into her, watching her face as lust openly etched itself into her features, feeling her tighten around him, he hadn't realized his finish was swelling in him until he came loud and shaking. And he laid on his back and wrapped his arm around her back as she laid across his chest, having come to need her next to him so he could sleep. He laid breathless and content as sleep crept upon him, and he no longer had to dream of her at his side for he could feel her against him. And she laid on him tired and happy, her heart still drumming heavily in her chest; as though each beat filled her with him, as though he were in her bloodstream.
song is Fumbling Toward Ecstasy by Sarah McLauchlan. In my humble opinion, I think it's her best song. Also, I made a new picture for this story and I hope it didn't confuse anyone who was looking for the story and saw a new pic. And another thing, last one, I've been putting little hints of Stockholm in her actions - they aren't huge, and may not even be noticeable, but if she does something that doesn't make a whole lot of sense given her situation (like learning the orc who kidnapped and tried to rape her a few times was leaving for the night and not once did she think of escaping with her warg who would kill any orc that tried to stop her) it's cause of Stockholm.
Guest: thank you, it gave me a lot of feelings too as I was writing it.
PS: thank you so much, I'm glad you thought it was believable. I've been noticing that I've been doing a lot sex lately, but there's a lot of tender moments in them - and it has him being more tender after, and in front of others.