She shut her eyes and felt the heft of his body settling against her own, felt his hot release cooling on her skin, and she felt, for the first time in perhaps her entire life, that things were exactly the way they were meant to be.
27
NOW, DATHOR SATup in Aerhril’s bed, the covers covering his crotch, his chest bare. “You have found me,” he said to the orc soldier who was standing at the foot of the bed.
“We did not know where you were, sir,” said the officer, looking at Dathor’s face, then his bare chest, then down at Aerhril who was pulling the blankets up to her chin, lying on a pillow next to him.
“As you have said,” said Dathor. “But here I am. Is there something you need, soldier? Is my presence required somewhere?”
“No, sir,” said the soldier.
“Then, leave us,” said Dathor.
“Yes, sir,” said the soldier and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Dathor rubbed a hand over his face. The orcs in his brigade were going to be a problem, perhaps. He would have to think about how he was going to handle all of this. They would all be whispering about how he was sleeping in her chambers, in her bed. They knew she was installed in his bed in the steward’s chambers, but they would wonder what the change of venue signified, and they would wonder about finding them in an obvious state of undress together, asleep late.
Typically, they both rose early and when anyone enteredthe room, they were both already dressed and they were both preparing to leave the room.
There were rumors of his softness for this one, worries about his loyalty. And, in a way, he supposed they were warranted.
She moaned. “Oh, you’re going to be awful, aren’t you?”
He peered down at her. “What?”
“You’ll want me to sit on your lap in front of the other elf women and you’ll likely swat my bottom when I get up and call me your strumpet in front of them or something equally terrible, and if I fight you on it, you’ll embarrass me in some other way—”
“Ah, yes, from now on, I decree that you run round the keep half naked, maybe with your bosom hanging out? And you will bend over any handy bit of furniture at my command so that I may lift your skirts and go at you.”
She looked up at him in horror.
“That was a jest,” he said. He scooted down in the bed to lay on his side and looked at her. “I could not convince you to behave that way if I wished, and I really do not. I shall stab to death anyone else who sees your bosom bare. It’s for my eyes only. And I wouldn’t mind bending you over furniture and taking you in every room in the Peak, but let’s do it after we clear it of my army and your leftover wedding guests, hmm?”
She butted her head into his chest, letting out a little moan. “You are not going to be awful, then?”
“I think we’ve established I am always awful. You hate me, and I am not the hero of the story, and I am not good, and I don’t deserve to be in your bed, and—”
“Stop it.” Her voice was muffled. She was whining a little.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up against his body. He loved how small she was, how she fit against him like this. He sighed, just enjoying this, their closeness. Everything was better if they could be close, and he felt that all the way to his core.
“But you will wish everyone to see that I have submitted willingly to you,” she said, her voice still muffled. “Including the other elf women.”
“I don’t know,” he said, thinking about it. “We are sort of on our own side now. I am not entirely on the orcs’ side. You’re not entirely on the elves’s side. We’ll do whatever we can to bring about a world in which we hold the Peak and stay here and raise our children here together.”
“Yes,” she said, and her voice had warmed to this. She lifted her head to look up and him and smile.
He kissed her. “So, the question becomes whether or not it’s better to let the elves think you are still on their side or not. It’s obviously better if the orcs think I’m still on their side, so perhaps we conceal this?”
“We cannot conceal it. Your orcs gossip like hens.”
He chuckled. “Do they?”
“Several of the women are in orc beds to be spies. They report every detail to the other women.”
“Every detail?” he said.
“Oh, yes, the descriptions of your mens’ cocks dominates nearly every conversation. Everyone is fascinated with the length and girth and whether or how large their bollocks are and what color the skin is.”
