Silfast’s growl was hard and vicious this time, raising the hairs on Gwyn’s neck — and thankfully Joarr whisked her back and away, standing her to her feet, well out of Silfast’s reach. With good reason, too, because Silfast was spitting and snarling with terrifying ferocity, his eyes alight on Joarr’s face.
“You skinny, sneakingsnake,” he hissed. “You shallpayfor this in the pit tomorrow, ach?”
With that, he spat at Joarr’s feet, and then — with surprising speed — snatched up Joarr’s discarded trousers, and made a show of using them to wipe himself off. While Joarr himself made a show of shrugging, and using a casual hand to shake off the worst of the wetness from his still-bared heft. And then he coolly turned his back to Silfast, and guided Gwyn’s also-bared body through the crowd of watching, wide-eyed orcs.
His mess was still streaming down her thighs, but surely that was exactly what he wanted — and once he’d led her over to the trees, he even snickered as she climbed up, leaving an obvious messy trail behind her. And then he leapt up too, striding straight toward her — until he suddenly crashed close against her, dragging her down to the platform with him.
And then, without a word, they both burst into laughter. Shaking all over as they roared, gulping for air, the mirth careening back and forth between them.
“You skinny, s-sneaking, s-snake,” Gwyn gasped, clutching at his thigh, as water streamed from her eyes. “I can’t believe you actuallysprayedhim, you fiend. You’ve been wanting to do that for — for —”
“Formoons,” Joarr gulped, between guffaws, his hand slapping Gwyn’s knee. “Ach, this was even better than I dreamt, witch. You see hisface?”
Gwyn only laughed harder, shaking her head, wiping at her wet face. “Oh goddess,” she gasped. “He’s going tomurderyou tomorrow. He really is.”
“Ach, he shall try,” Joarr said, and his eyes were leaking too, the guffaws rolling from his chest. “And I shall say…”
“‘Is it raining?’” Gwyn supplied, in her best impression of Silfast’s deep voice — and Joarr’s instant, cackling howl set her off again, collapsing into his chest, as she laughed until it hurt.
“Oh goddess,” she finally gulped, clutching at her aching stomach. “I hope you didn’t insult him beyond repair. Or risk your place in the clan. You didn’t. Did you?”
Her chuckles had finally subsided, her head twisting around to search Joarr’s eyes in the faint flickering firelight — but he shook his head, whipping his hair in his face. “Ach, no,” he said. “We are kin now, and shall always lead the clan together. These feuds shall only make this morefun, ach?”
Right. Gwyn grinned up at him, and then sagged closer into his warm arms. “Good,” she said lightly. “Though did youreallyneed to make such a spectacle of me in the process?”
Joarr’s hands were stroking at her hair now, and she could feel his mouth, gently kissing at where he’d pierced her neck. “Ach,” he murmured. “Wished to flaunt my fierce little witch, stuck and screaming upon my prick, and spraying my seed. But should you no wish for this, you need only speak, ach?”
Gwyn settled even closer against him, and gave a slow, shivery exhale. “No, I… I like it,” she whispered, confessed. “Even though that still feels… wrong, sometimes, you know?”
Joarr’s teeth nipped a little against her skin, his disapproval gentle but certain. “No wrong,” he whispered back. “Blessed by goddess. At peace with father. Helping many women. Bearing strong son. Marked only by me. Ach?”
His claws had skated softly up her arm, where all those old scars were still visible — but where they’d faded, too. And the more they’d faded, the more Joarr had made new ones of his own. Pricks and scrapes of his claws, marks of his teeth not only on her neck, but on her breasts, her thighs, her arse. Careful, but steady and certain, too. Still making sure it was different, marks made not in pain or shame, but in pleasure. Inpride.
And it hadn’t always been easy — even now, that temptation sometimes still lingered at the back of Gwyn’s thoughts — but knowing she would lose this, if she returned to that, was an astonishingly powerful deterrent. And so was the truth, too, that there were other ways. And if she couldn’t find another way on her own, Joarr would help her find one, and stay with her until the temptation had passed.
And goddess, she adored him, her sly, devious, and impossibly generous orc. Her partner. Her conspirator. The father of her son.
His hand had again found her waist, spreading wide against it, as he so often did. And Gwyn was caught on that, considering that, as something from earlier twined back into her thoughts.
“You said, down there,” she began, twisting back around to look at him, “that I would bear the next Seer.”
Joarr’s eyes had very slightly stilled, perhaps slipping behind their mask — but Gwyn watched, waiting, until they came back again. Until he stopped hiding, or seeing, or both.
“Ach,” he said finally, quiet. “You shall. Is this no… no good?”
Gwyn blinked, and then elbowed him in the stomach, huffing a soft laugh. “Of course it’s good,” she said, just as quiet. “I — I’m just surprised, is all. And honoured.”
She could see the relief in his eyes, could almost taste it in the air around him. “I ken some day,” he murmured, “you shall be weary of all my seeing, ach? Shall no more wish to know these things.”
But Gwyn knew very well, now, that Joarr didn’t always like it either. That what he saw was sometimes still wrong, too, and that — oddly enough — it was still her that broke it the most. And that part of the reason he hadn’t told her about his seeing, all that time — even as he still hadn’t once tried to justify it — was that he hadn’t wanted to take her freedom away from her. Her choice.
But it was him, it was part of him, and Gwyn loved him so much it ached — and more than that, she was indignant. Downright piqued, in fact, because wait, Joarr knew things about their son, and he hadn’t yettoldher?!
“You sneaky, underhandedfiend,” she snapped, as she squirmed fully around to face him, glowering at his surely shifty eyes. “Tell me everything. What’s his name. What’s he like. And will he defeat his devious father in combat?”
Joarr’s mouth twitched, and his eyes were wry, a little pained. “You are sure,” he said, “you wish to know.”
“Yes,” Gwyn replied, with an exasperated roll of her eyes. “I am.Tellme, Joarr.”
