Arcanum - Of Steamwork and Magic Ch. 11

I nodded and stood up from the ground. "And do elves hate dwarves enough to grasp upon any excuse to fight?"

Longhaire shook his head again. "No! Our people are different...but we still respect one another. I may not understand an elf, but I can see their..." He trailed off. "You're right, stranger. You're right..." He stood, slowly, his hands clenching. "The elves would not have gone to war over the Morbihan. It was a tragedy, and elves feel the plight of the woods deeply, but no elves were harmed. It's not enough to threaten a war that would shatter Arcanum apart!"

I nodded. "These elves," I said, quietly. "They took advantage of your fear."

"Yes..." Longhaire whispered. "I betrayed-"

"Your Shape?" I asked, quietly. "No. No you didn't, Longhaire."

His brow furrowed. "You're an orc," he said, slowly.

I tapped my temple. "I am also capable of listening, your majesty," I said, my voice serious. "Your Shape is to be King. That means making the right decisions for your people -- all of your people. But no shape is perfect. Gilbert Bates told me of the hall in the Black Mountain Clan where mistakes are housed, so that they might teach future generations of dwarves. Mistakes happen in all Shaping. But what is the greater mistake: To mistime a chisel strike...or to throw the chisel away and leave the home you were making half finished?" I thrust my finger at him. "You made a mistake -- then compounded that mistake by abandoning your people when they needed you the most."

Longhaire looked as if he had been struck. He sagged, his head hanging forward. "I am a fool," he whispered. Then, louder, he wailed it. "I am a fool!" He slammed his fists into the ground.

"A fool," I said, kneeling down. "With another millennium to correct it." I placed my hand on his shoulder.

Longhaire wept. His tears pattered upon the ground, and he wept. His shoulder shook beneath my hands as his fingers dug into the ground...and tore up great chunks of gravel. He stood, rock crumbling between his fingers. His eyes caught the light of the flames and glowed with an almost inner light. His voice was a low growl. "You're right, outlander. I must make this right. I must. I will return to my people -- and you..." He dropped the gravel to the ground, the fire guttering as several pieces fell upon it. "You will go to the Silver Lady in Quintarra. You will ask her about Min'Gorad, and you will find the truth of this and we shall bring the Black Mountain Clan back."

I clapped my hand to his hand and he clenched his palm around mine. Muscles strained as I looked into his eyes.

"I swear it, Longhaire Thunder Stone."

***

I lay in the chambers that had been given me, my belly filled with the rich banquet that we had been served -- my eyes looking into darkness, my mind whirling with yet new thoughts. The mystery had gained new, darker dimensions, and I remained uncertain as to my real place here. Did Nasrudin truly lurk inside of me? And...did I wish it? Did I wish to lay my accomplishments at the spirit of a long dead elf? Or did I wish to stand upon my own deeds and proclaim that it was I, Rayburn Cog. Or...Resh Craig.

It was me.

Another part of my mind was ticking over a slightly more practical problem: None of the dwarves actually knew how to reach Quintarra. Neither did any of my companions. The elven city was located within the Glimmering Forest -- the vast woods that spanned beyond the Stonewall Mountains, in the northwestern reaches of Arcanum. But actually finding the city -- let alone finding the pass through the Mountains that would be easily traversed -- was also quite a task.

Fortunately, during the banquet, Randver had provided the answer. Looking more at ease and happier dressed in simple white than in a king's regalia, Randver had said that the town of Stillwater -- which traded with the Wheel Clan and the elves of Quintarra both -- surely had someone who knew the route. A merchant. A traveler. Someone. And Virginia had pointed out that the telegraph we had been given from her mentor, Johanna, said that Johanna would be waiting in Stillwater for us.

Surely, she'd be quite shocked to find us arriving after all these months...

And lo, as if she had been summoned by my thoughts, the door to my room opened, spilling a thin knife of light into the chambers. I sat up, my blankets gliding along my bare chest -- but the shadow cast against the wall was shorter. And squatter. And then the door shut and I heard the husky contralto of Maggie. Not 'Magnus'. Maggie.

"R...Ray..." she said, her voice hesitant. "I need ta talk."

I swung my legs around on the bed in the darkness, feeling quite aware of how little I was wearing -- the dwarven caverns were rather warm. And I preferred to be nude while I slept. But...well...Maggie. Other than the single delirious night at the Isle of Despair, we hadn't ever been...intimate like this. But the tone of her voice kept me from moving. Kept me from even breathing. It was so...tentative. So shy. So worried.

"What's wrong, Maggie?" I asked, taking heart in the thick walls, thick door, and generally private nature of dwarves to keep us from being overheard.

"It's about what you and the prince were talkin' about," she said, her voice growing softer still. I heard her feet scuffing on the ground. Was she drawing closer? Or simply pacing in the darkness? I wasn't sure. I had a temptation to fumble about for a light. Instead, I stilled myself. "The whole Shape and Stone such and such? I...I've never heard any of that before." She sounded deeply shamed. "Not a once. Two hundred years old and I call myself a dwarf."

I shook my head. "You were born in a city, away from a clan..." I said -- not a question. A statement of fact.

Maggie sighed, slowly. "But hearing it...it...it made me think. What am I?" Before I could respond, she underlined it -- her voice growing more and more frightened with every word, tiny frightened breaths sucked in every pause: "I'm a dwarf. But I wear a beard, I act like a man, I go out and about, rather than making babies or being a good and obedient woman. I'm betraying my Shape and my Stone! And I didn't even know it! How could I possibly find my Clan, my real Clan, if I cannot even-"

I moved without thinking. In the darkness, I had to rely upon only my hearing and my sense of the room. It was enough for me to bundle Maggie into my arms. My muscles strained -- she was quite dense -- but I was able to hold her to my chest, squeezing her tightly. Her large breasts pressed to my chest and her legs kicked and flailed in surprise. But I acted quickly -- knowing that I couldn't possibly hold her aloft for long. I stepped backwards until my legs bumped into the bed, then swung her around in the darkness.

In that pitch blackness, I heard the bed squeak, and the mattress groan. Softly, Maggie whispered out: "R-Ray..."

"Maggie," I said, my voice a deep rumble. I looked at where I hoped her eyes were, my hands resting to either side of her head. I felt the snarled curls of her hair, spilling against my knuckles. I heard the soft gasp gasp gasp of her breath. I could picture her breasts, rising and falling beneath her shirt. She was clothed. She might not have realized I wasn't. In the darkness, my member began to harden -- first a little. Then more. As if I could hear her every gasp, and some deep, animal part of my soul knew at least some of that breath was her enjoying my scent.

"W-Well?" she whispered. "How am I not...nothing?"

"Because a stone can change," I said, my voice quiet. "Under pressure and heat, stone becomes lava. Lava can be shaped and changed and allowed to cool into new structures. Chemical processes can remake what looks, to a simple glance, like unchanging eternity." I leaned down. "To be quite honest, I think that these dwarves have spoken only to other dwarves for so long that they have begun to think that their philosophy is more than it is."

Maggie tensed -- I felt her prickling up, as if she were a hedgehog.

I chuckled. "I don't need to see you to know you're making that face," I said, my grin clear in my tone. "Maggie, don't think of what other dwarves do, what other dwarves think. Instead, think of what you have done. What you have seen. What you believe." I leaned forward, slowly. I felt her skin before I touched her -- my breath bounced off her neck and filled my nose with a moist scent. "What you feel."

Maggie squirmed under me as I kissed her neck. Gently. I flicked the pulsing beat of her heart, and felt the tension within her uncoiling. "Ray..." She whispered, very softly. "I-I don't know if I can do that. I...I've spent my whole life trying to find my clan. My place."

I nuzzled her. "Maybe you have, Maggie."

One of her hands gingerly closed around the back of my head, working through the straight, raven black lines of my hair. Her fingers pressed to my scalp and her soft gasp filled the darkness as I kissed her neck with more force. I used my teeth to pucker her skin slightly, tugging ever so slightly backwards. Maggie's quiet moan was nearly as musical as the banquet's accompaniment had been. It drove me on. I peppered her neck, her chin, her jaw with kisses. Finally, her lips met mine within the darkness and her tongue plunged into my mouth with a hungry growl. Her fingers laced through my hair, then clenched into a fist, holding my hair in a bunch as she pressed her muscular, soft body to me. I rocked back onto my knees, drawing back just enough so that I could pick my hands off the bed and start to quest along her body.

She was clad in night clothes -- but it was thick, male night clothes. I started to work at ties and ribbons as she thrust her tongue into my mouth with a desperate passion. I wasn't sure if it was fear of her own uncertainty, or something more honest and pure, that drove her to this passion...but I was enjoying it. When I broke the kiss, it was not simply to free up her arms and her head to let me tug her top off. It was also because I simply needed to breathe.

"I suppose I can explore a new shape..." she murmured, huskily.

I tossed her top away. In the darkness, my lips traced a line from her neck to her breasts. I found one of her fat, hard nipples and sucked eagerly on it. This provoked a quite unladylike curse. "F-Fuck!"

I grinned around her nipple, then squirmed as I felt her hands sliding along my back, to my belly. She wasn't quite tall enough to reach my member, but she was able to lift her thigh, grinding her leg against my cock. She trapped my cock between her muscle and my belly and pressed with enough pressure to force a grunt from me. I broke the connection with her nipple, panting and gasping. "Maggie-"

"Oh just plow me already," she whispered.

I grabbed for her hips, but ended up gripping her knees. That was well enough. I crooked her legs upwards, almost folding them against her belly. I could picture her pubic hair glistening with her arousal. I could picture her sex spreading for me. I could imagine her taste, remembering it from when she had sat upon my face. But rather than simply slamming into her, I let her wait. I let her feel suspense. I slowly folded her legs to the side, so that she was laying entirely on her hip and shoulder.

Maggie's quite moan of confusion was broken by a gasp as I let my cock drop and slap against her curved hip. The warmth of her skin felt like a furnace, and the warmth grew only more intense as I sloooowly ground the tip of my cock along her skin, along her rump, and finally, to the plump lips of her eager, puffy pussy. Through it all, Maggie sounded as if she was muffling herself by biting her lip. Quietly, I murmured. "Where is your fake beard, anyway?"

"B-By the door..." she whispered.

"Good," I said, huskily. "I'd hate to..." I slid an inch into her. Her sex was so tight. Like a vice of soft, eager flesh. My eyes closed. I gritted my teeth. "I'd hate to imagine you wearing it right now." Maggie let out a strangled laugh -- which became a gasp, then a moan as I slid another inch into her. Her sex was so very wet, but she was so very, very tight. I closed my eyes and I gritted my teeth. Not because I was uncomfortable. Oh no. She felt divine.

No, no, no, I was trying to restrain myself. I was so used to fucking Virginia, who had gotten quite used to taking my endowment. As I puased, feeling the fluttering pulse of Maggie's heartbeat, I heard her mumbling into a pillow -- muffled but still understandable: "By Albrecht! How big is this bugger!?" She shuddered and I felt her sex slip another few inches down my cock as I worked my hips forward until, at last, I was buried within her. We were joined, as closely as it was possible to be -- save for the connection of two souls twined in true love.

Like...Virginia and I...

When I wasn't being a damn coward.

"Gods..." Maggie whined. "I...feel so full, Ray..."

I chuckled, my voice ragged. "Ready for me to do more than simply wait?"

"A-Aye," Maggie mumbled. I heard the faint creak of wood and wondered if she was gripping the headboard. Her back was definitely arching, from the way that her hips were moving against mine. I smiled and started to slowly thrust into her. I drew my cock back, then slammed into her, then drew my cock back, then slammed into her. Each time, I could practically feel the vibrations of her ass as she took my cock again and again and again. And with each thrust, like I was stoking the bellows, I could hear Maggie's moans and gasps get louder and hotter.

"Aye...aye! Yes! Ah, fuck, yes!" She moaned. "A...Gods!" She shuddered and I felt her sex clench upon mine like a silken fist as her back arched. The headboard creaked louder and she rocked her hips against me with a furious, wriggling motion, trying to drive me in deeper and harder. I put one palm against the wall -- anchoring myself -- and started to do just that. I used my entire weight to slam into her again and again and again, taking full advantage of dwarven...

Density.

Toughness.

Girth.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Maggie was almost screaming now, her voice becoming ragged. "Oh Ray!"

I couldn't keep this up. It was simply impossible. My eyes closed and I managed to grit out the question. "In or on, Maggie?"

Maggie, to her credit, picked up fast. She drew in a ragged breath, then cried it out. "In! In, Rayburn! In!" She shuddered in bliss and her voice broke down into mewling cries. But, well. The lady had spoken. I let myself slide back into her, feeling her sex tightening around every inch of my thick, green cock. At that moment, it struck me how...very...forbidden this was. Dwarven women were kept under lock and key. Hells. I had never seen or heard of another one ever. And here I was.

Deflowering her.

Claiming her.

That thought almost did more to push me over the edge than the warmth and tightness and delicious smoothness of Maggie's welcoming sex. My green balls tightened as if gripped in a fist and I gritted my teeth so hard I could feel my jaw clicking. And my cum spurted into her. Spurted and filled her, painting the inside of her dwarven womb as she shuddered underneath me, her voice muffled by what was clearly a pillow pressed to her face. The moment dragged out -- stretched...and snapped as my arms finally gave way. I sprawled on the bed beside her, gasping in -- breathing in the sweet smell of her sweat. My arm wrapped about her and my cock slurped from her sex -- and my hand immediately found the fullness of her breast.

I squeezed. I fondled. I cupped and caressed.

Maggie let out tiny mewls. Like a happy kitten.

We floated in a haze for a time -- and quietly, she mumbled. "T-Think...Gilbert Bates' money will...spend here?"

I chuckled, softly. "I have some liquid currency. Why?" I asked -- bemused by the seeming non-sequitur.

Maggie chuckled, her voice horse from all of her moaning and gasping and, yes, a few screams. I wondered if her eyes were opened or closed. Mine were closed -- closed tight, with my forehead resting against her shoulder. My tongue darted out, licking up some of her sweat.

"I want to...buy something dwarven here," she said, quietly. "I want to see what's here -- other than...mm...barmy kings and philosophical princes."

I nodded. Nuzzled her neck. "Deal. Tomorrow, you may spend all of my money. Deal?"

Maggie let out a soft chuckle.

Then...

In the darkness.

"Ray...can I ask yeh a question?" her voice was very soft.

The tone of her voice made my spine tighten slightly. I squirmed and my softening cock nestled between her ass cheeks. I licked my lips, then whispered. "S-Sure."

"Whose Resh Craig?" she asked. "When I got hit with that bugger Arronax's magic, I...I thought he said something about Resh Craig..."

Silence yawned between us. A dozen lies came to mind. But...none of them fit. Maggie had revealed her own uncertainty to me -- seeking comfort for her own soul. For her shape. Could I deny mine? And so, quietly...I began to speak.

I began to tell her the story of Resh Craig.

TO BE CONTINUED