Natt, of course, seemed entirely unaffected, and he dropped his supplies and their clothes onto the counter with a loud thunk. “Brother,” he said, with an incline of his still-wet head. “I shall need free run of this room, for a spell. And, I wish to have what remains of the Grisk hoard.”
The orc’s narrow eyes were firmly fixed to Ella, flicking up and down her towel-cloaked form, and she felt her cheeks flush hot — but finally the orc bent down, and pulled out a large steel box from under the counter.
It was covered in strange carvings, and Ella watched with fascination as the orc’s talons plucked at them, following some kind of pattern, until the top of the box popped open. Inside it was another box, smaller and made of wood, which the orc reverently lifted out with both hands, and placed on the counter between them.
“You shall take great care how you wield these, Nattfarr,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. “You are not Speaker yet.”
“Soon, Ymir,” Natt shot back, with a jaunty smile. “Ach, and when we are done, I wish you to burn my woman’s clothes. But keep her boots safe.”
The orc nodded, as though this were an entirely unremarkable request, and then shuffled around toward the door. While Natt tucked the wooden box under his arm, and grasped for his lamp before leading Ella around the counter, and deeper into the room.
It was truly a fascinating place, filled with row after row of long shelves, each of those shelves holding incongruous piles of — things. Cooking-pots and pans, and bags of flour and oats, and baskets of dried meat and vegetables. And now barrels, and tools, and weapons, and packs and water-skins like the ones Natt had carried, followed by rows of boots and shoes. And then — Natt pulled Ella to a stop behind him — stacks of furs, and textiles.
“Here,” he said, flashing a grin toward her as he carefully placed his lamp and his box on the nearest shelf. “Stay.”
With that, he whipped the huge towel off Ella’s shoulders, leaving her standing there entirely naked, while he began darting around her, digging through the piles. Pulling out first one item, and then another, sniffing it, shaking his head. And then throwing it back again, and reaching for yet something else, some kind of skirt, holding it up before Ella’s increasingly bemused eyes.
“Does wool itch you?” he demanded, keenly eyeing her over the top of it, and when Ella nodded, he threw it back again. Making a remarkable mess, one that the grumpy Ymir orc would surely be displeased about, but Natt seemed wholly unconcerned, and only grasped for another item, from the very bottom of the stack nearest.
“Ach,” he said, with satisfaction. “This, lass, shall suit.”
This, apparently, was some kind of man’s short kilt, made of sturdy brown leather. It was short enough that it wouldn’t even reach Ella’s knees — and as Natt slung it low around her hips, and buckled the leather strap, there was the equally shocking realization that there would be a deep slit up the side, showing absolutely indecent views of her bare hip and thigh with every step she took.
“I can’t —wearthis, Natt,” Ella managed, but he only finished fastening it, and then stepped back, frowning, as if to survey his handiwork. And then he gave a decisive nod, and began rummaging again through the piles, making another unholy mess as he went.
“Natt,” Ella said again, helplessly, as he grasped for something else, and then unfurled it around her shoulders. It was soft grey fur, it looked almost like awolf-skin, and it fit her like a cape, covering her back and shoulders. But in front, it only scarcely concealed her bare breasts, even once Natt had produced a long leather strap to tie it with, and fastened it tight.
“Good,” he said, again stepping back to look, and then — Ella gasped — reaching a clawed hand under the bottom edge of the fur to cup close and proprietary at her breast. “This hides you, so you shall be at ease among my brothers — but I shall yet be able to touch you, whenever I should wish.”
He seemed deeply satisfied with this, leaving Ella entirely dumbfounded as he finally went for that wooden box the orc had given him. Snapping it open to reveal contents that glittered bright in the lamplight, and Ella realized that they were —jewels. The Grisk hoard, he’d said.
Natt combed through them with visible care, and then drew out what looked to be a large, dangling earring. It was beautifully and intricately forged, glittering with gold and green — or rather, with actual inlaidemeralds, very like the ring that glinted on his finger.
Natt held the earring up to Ella’s face, his lips pursing, almost as if he were considering it against her skin. While Ella held herself very still, her eyes fluttering, her pulse rising. Natt surely wouldn’t loan her such a beautiful thing. Would he?
But Natt was nodding, hewas, and his fingers were careful as he finally brought the lovely earring closer, and fastened it to Ella’s ear. “Our Grisk jewels have not oft been worn, through this war,” he said, and she could feel him flick a claw at it, sending a hard shiver down her back. “But now, it is time to bear them again. I wish you to have this one, for this side, and” — he reached over, and then dangled another smaller, simpler gold hoop from his opposite hand — “this, for the other.”
Ella might well have shuddered, because she hadn’t worn mismatched earrings in herlife— but she only held herself still, her heart jerky and skipping, while Natt hooked the second earring on, and then stepped back to look at her again. His eyes sweeping thoughtfully up and down, his clawed finger tapping absently against his chin.
“Should you allow me to pierce your nose, lass, so you may wear more of my jewels?” he asked. “Or mayhap, here?”
Byhere, he meant Ella’snipple, because his hand had again reached under her fur, and tweaked lightly against it. Leaving Ella staring slack-jawed toward him,envisioningthat, and feeling the heat pool in far too many inappropriate places at once.
“Of course I shouldn’t allow you to do that, Natt,” she said, through her oddly tangled tongue. “I’ve neverheardof such a scandalous thing.”
And what should Alfred say if his future wife did such a scandalous thing, was the unspoken question — and one that Natt perhaps followed, judging by the sudden distance in his eyes. And Ella remembered, too late, about the men, and thewar, and the matters yet to be addressed. And yes, she’d agreed to do this with Natt, but surely it wouldn’t extendthere…
“Then mayhap this,” Natt said, his voice very smooth, as he reached back into the wooden box, and pulled out two thick, matching, intricately woven gold chains. Much more innocuous than actual nipple-piercings, at least, and Ella willingly ducked her head as he settled their cold weight around her neck, slipping them under her cape.
But then — Ella’s body snapped still again — Natt lifted one of her breasts, and settled one of the chains close and taut beneath it. Then he did the same on the other side, so that each chain was now slightly propping up each breast, almost as if obscenely displaying them for his eyes.
And Natt was looking, holding up her fur to get a better view, and again coming to tweak at Ella’s jutting, reddened nipple with his claw. “Better,” he said. “Do you not think so, lass?”
There was an undeniable challenge in his voice, and as Ella glanced down at her frankly appalling ensemble, she found her face again very hot, her eyes not quite able to meet his. Of course this wasn’t better, even if he’d loaned her such breathtaking jewels. It was lewd and indecent and uncouth, she was barely clothed, utterly on display, she looked like a —
“Come,” Natt said, his hand grasping at hers, and Ella allowed him to draw her further into the room, toward the very back. Toward where there was, to Ella’s surprise, a large silver looking-glass, propped against the wall.
It appeared to be human-made, and looked as though it had seen better days. But as Natt drew Ella to stand before it, and held up his lamp, she could see the reflection as clearly as it if had been another person, standing there before her.
