Chapter 3: Awakening

It was the warmth of the fire that woke Rikke. Her eyes shot open in a panic. It was dark now. She could see both moons high in the sky. The last thing she remembered was fighting those Stormcloaks, and then–the orc! She reached for a weapon that wasn't there, and in doing so realized that she was draped in a pile of furs. She had a sudden realization that underneath those furs she had been stripped of her armor. Rage filled her. Sword be damned! If that creature had touched her she would— she winced in pain as she sat up. Pain flared in her leg, ribs and arm, and it was only then she realized that although she was in a slight state of undress, she was also heavily bandaged.

Why would the orc–she didn't complete her thought, for at the moment, she heard him approaching. She laid back down and closed her eyes to feign sleep. Better to get the lay of the land before striking, she thought. She heard him rummaging through the camp, and cracked her eyelids open the slightest bit. She could just make out the fact that his back was turned to her for the moment, facing the fire. Before she could take any action, he turned to face her, and she closed her eye once more. She felt her heartbeat quicken as his footsteps got closer and closer, and then the camp grew quiet as he knelt next to her. She could feel his breath near her face. Bang! She jumped, and opened her eyes.

The orc was looking down at her, and she was sure he was smirking. "Eat," his voice rumbled. He had dropped a plate of food next to her. Bastard knew I was awake the whole time! She thought, as she sat up with a groan. He turned and stalked back towards the other side of the fire where his own plate of food was waiting. "Eat," he repeated. "I'll need to check those bandages again when you're done." Rikke felt her face flush and she was glad it was dark. "I can check them myself thank you," She said firmly. For reasons unknown this orc had helped her so she didn't want to be unkind, but she still didn't want him seeing more of her than he already had. She saw him shrug from across the fire. "As you wish." His voice was deep and gutteral, but also somehow soothing.

Then she remembered his roar, and how it had echoed across the valley, and she hid a small shudder. The orc was sitting just outside of the fire's light so it was difficult to see his features, as the shadows danced around his form. She looked down at the plate he had dropped for her. There was cooked meat, some bread, cheese, and an apple. Her stomach growled hungrily. She was done with the apple, and halfway through the meat when he spoke to her again. "Your armor and weapons are near the mammoth's skull over there," he said pointing. "Take them and go whenever you are able, but be warned, make any attempt against me, and I will toss you from this Crest down to the rocks below." He said the words so calmly, and without hesitation that she knew he meant them.

When Rikke was down to the bread and cheese, she spoke. "What is your name orc?" There was a low growl that emanated from deep in his chest. "Marzuum Gro-Narzul," he said. He didn't ask her for hers. Rikke cleared her throat, "I thank you for your aid Marzam. I'll–"

"Marzuum," he interrupted. His eyes seemed to glow on the other side of the fire.

"Pardon me?"

"You said, Marzam. My name is Marzuum."

Rikke took a breath. "Thank you, Marzuum. I will make sure you are compensated for assisting a member of the legion. General Tullius knows how to reward those who serve the empire."

"Unnecessary," Marzuum said. The orc had finished eating, and had tossed his plate to the side. "There is a dagger under your pillow if that should comfort you while you sleep. Be sure to check your stitches before you fall to sleep." With that, Rikke watched as he lumbered off to the other side of the camp. She laid her head back and looked at the stars. She stayed that way for many minutes until she moved the dagger from under her pillow to her hand, and fell fast asleep.

*

Clink! Clink! Clink!

The loud sound of metal on stone roused Rikke from her slumber.

Clink! Clink! Clink!

She opened her eyes, squinting from the sun's rays. Although her vision was somewhat impaired by the sunlight, she now saw her savior's true form. The orc Marzuum, stood at least a head and a half taller than she. He had no hair on his head aside from his eyebrows. Two massive horns that looked like the horns of a ram, sprouted from his crown and curled around to the sides of his head. Much smaller stubs, lined his eyebrows. Dark war paint, the color of dried blood, went from around his eyes, down to his jawline.

Clink! Clink! Clink!

Marzuum was mining an iron ore vein that was atop the crest. He wore only fur armor around his waist, so with every motion he made, each muscle in his torso was visible. He's massive! Rikke thought. His arms were each as thick as a mammoth's tusk. His chest had the same shape as a sabre cat's right before it pounced. As a Nord, Rikke had been brought up to treat most mer with suspicion and caution, especially orcs. But having spent most of her adult life in the legion, she had learned to try and fight that prejudice. After all, orsimer served in other cohorts of the legion. She had never seen one half-dressed before though.

Clink! Clink! Clink!

Rikke sat up, and immediately winced from the pain. Marzuum heard the noise and stopped. He dropped the pickaxe and took a few steps toward her. Sweat glistened on his muscular physique. Rikke felt her face grow hot. She'd been around many fit men and women before, but had never been close enough to compare an orc's physique to that of a standard legionnaire. The legate felt a flutter in her loins. She hadn't experienced such raw physical attraction in a male since she had first joined the legion. Perhaps she had been too harsh before…

Before her thoughts could wander in a more carnal direction he spoke. "You forgot to check your stitches." Now Rikke felt even more embarrassed. She had given him shit for wanting to check her stitches and insisted upon doing it herself, only to forget.

"Why are you doing that?" She asked, desperate to change the subject. "Mining I mean."

The orc shrugged. "Ore's good for money. Good for crafting. Good for trading."

Why does he say so little? She thought to herself. Before she could ask anything else, he turned and walked away. Rikke looked quizzically after him. Most men won't leave me alone and this one can't wait to get away from me! "Where are you going?" She called.

"Going to hot springs," he rumbled. "Need to bathe."

"Can I come?" Her interest was piqued. The orc was an impressive specimen and Rikke found herself dangerously curious about– the rest of him. As an unmarried woman, she had so little time to explore her… interests… before those opportunities were closed to her forever. Even less as a woman in the legion. She'd tried it once, and would never do it again. Besides, she thought, Life in Skyrim can be so brief. I should enjoy everything it has to offer while I can. More simply though, Rikke had been on the road for a week prior to her ambush by the Stormcloaks. She desperately wanted to bathe.

Marzuum continued to walk away. "Check your stitches!"