Oh. Geva felt her brow furrowing in the darkness, but she couldn’t find a trace of sarcasm or mockery in his voice. And he’d again shifted behind her, perhaps turning around — and surely now that was his back, pressing warm and solid against hers.
“So if ever we have the ill luck to meet these fool humans again,” he said, “mayhap we shall drop theparentsdown the well instead. And then we shall save the ill-treated human we like best, and keep her warm and safe and content. This is indeed the proper Ash-Kai way, ach?”
The proper Ash-Kai way. Ash-Kai was Rathgarr’s clan name, Geva distantly recalled, and his voice sounded almost wistful as he spoke it. Drawing up something deep and shameful in her belly, something not unlike jealousy. Because gods, what it would be like to besaved, to beliked, to be kept safe and content? And why did this orc keep affecting her like this, he’d been so utterly vile today, he was still a selfish capricious thief, and —
“Now sleep, poppet,” came his low voice. “You are weary, and we have much road to travel tomorrow.”
He accompanied this with another nudge of his elbow, a shift of his big back against hers. So warm, so solid, so safe…
And despite everything, all the whispering misgivings and misery, Geva finally closed her tired eyes, and slept.
12
When morning came, it was with the smell of… breakfast?
Geva jerked awake and shoved up in bed, blinking down toward the overloaded tray of food propped on the bed beside her. Piled with fresh boiled eggs, and ham, and greens, and even a pot of steaming tea?!
She shot a searching, disbelieving glance upwards, and found — Rathgarr. Standing tall and broad before her, fully dressed in fine crisp clothes, and flashing her a decidedly smug smile.
“Breakfast,” he said firmly, as he settled his huge form down to sit on the bed, and nudged a bowl of eggs toward her. “Eat, poppet.”
Oh. Geva certainly wasn’t about to refuse, not with so many succulent scents swarming her nostrils — and she accordingly picked up a fork, and took a careful bite of egg. Gods, it was good, and she found herself giving Rathgarr a wary, grateful smile as she chewed.
“This is… unexpected,” she said, between bites. “Thank you.”
He gave a too-casual shrug, and then stabbed a boiled egg with his claw before tossing it whole into his open mouth. “As I said last night, I wish to come to peace with you,” he replied, once he’d swallowed. “I wish for a happy helpmate, not one who dreams of cutting out my heart whilst I sleep.”
Geva’s mouth twitched a little higher, almost into a smile — but then Rathgarr purposefully glanced downwards, and nudged something toward her with his claw. It was a heavy silver goblet, filled to the brim with a white, creamy liquid, something Geva’s distracted brain had previously identified as milk. But… but…
She frowned and snatched the goblet up to her face, breathing in deep — and gods damn this devious orc, it was…that. His…seed. Its scent rich and sweet and so, so familiar, and her traitorous mouth was actually watering, her tongue brushing against her lips.
“You put it in acup,” she managed, and while she’d meant to sound outraged, her voice came out low, tolerant, almost… amused. “For mybreakfast?!”
Rathgarr’s mouth quirked up, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Ach, should you wish,” he blandly replied. “Or should you rather suck this straight from my prick, mayhap?”
Geva made a face at him, but curse it, her mouth was still watering, her breath inhaling deep against the goblet’s smooth silver rim. And yes, she had agreed to this, hadn’t she? He’d said he wanted his scent on her mouth. And the better job she did, the more he would pay…
“How about this, poppet,” he said, his eyes still glittering on hers. “For each load you swallow, the more you shall gain. For this, mayhap…”
He plucked a gold coin from his pouch, brandishing it out toward Geva’s face, while a smug smirk played on his mouth. “This. And twice this, should you again drink it fresh from its source. And” — his voice dropped, his smirk curling higher — “five times, mayhap, should you be brave enough to drink it straight up your rump.”
The hell. Thisprick. This devious, brilliantbastard, because this wasn’t just a copper, it was a real gold piece. Enough to keep Geva comfortably housed and fed for likely an entire week.
And he was offering twice this much, for…that. And five times forthat?!
“You wouldn’t,” Geva snapped at him, but her voice came out far too low, too tolerant, as if this appalling little challenge was somehow up fordebate?! “You said you’ll pay meafterall this. At the end of the month. In a lump sum.”
“Ach, did I?” Rathgarr replied lightly, flicking that coin between his claws. “Then test me, poppet. Drink up.”
Geva’s breath was strangely shuddering, her hand lifting the goblet closer to her mouth — but then she shoved it down again, squeezing her eyes shut. No. No. She couldn’t risk sinking deeper into this mess, playing straight into his sneaky, smarmy hands. Or risking what he’d already offered, what they’d already agreed upon…
But Rathgarr was still watching her far too intently, his smirk twisting into something like a grimace. “I do not mean to say youmustdo this,” he said, flatter than before. “Or that this should alter aught else we have agreed upon. I have sworn to care for you, and keep you safe, and see you across the sea, and I shall keep my vow. But should you choose to do more” — he shrugged, glanced away — “mayhap a scheme such as this should make matters more… fair, between us.”
Oh. So this devious orc offering her extra coin like this was supposed to be a generosity? A kindness?! To make matters morefairbetween them, to his own full and blatant benefit?
But as Geva glanced down at that cup, still sitting so innocuously on the tray, she felt her tongue again brushing her lips, the longing swelling up, shameful and shimmering. Because damn him, maybe she did want this, more than she’d ever imagined possible. Andwouldit have felt better, fairer, if they’d had clearer terms in place? If those heated moments between them hadn’t felt like a failure, but a gain? A scheme? Or even… a challenge?
He was watching her again, that challenge brazenly glimmering in his eyes — and before Geva could think better of it, she again snatched up the sweet-scented silver goblet, raised it to her mouth, and drank.
