Clara's Offering Ch. 04

Thank you all for the kind comments and words of encouragement you have left while I've been gone! I'm sorry to have left you all on a cliffhanger for so long - turns out doing a back to back dissertation, internship and interstate move is not good for getting writing done...

-- --

Clara blinked at him, her lips falling open in a small gasp at his words.

"You - you and Theon - you're royalty?"

Torbin's head tilted in a somber nod.

"Theon is the heir. Our father, assuming he still lives, is King Skarden of Askafell, though the title has little meaning now. In our great-grandfather's time, our kind hunted across the whole continent. Things change, of course, and now we are a myth. A hidden god, to be worshipped by the likes of your townsfolk, small-minded creatures who cannot sleep at night for fear of the forests that press in around them."

Torbin paused, scoffing as he looked away.

"Though my people are barely better, now. Theon left because our father is a fool who has given in to those who think that wolfen must breed only with wolfen. That they are superior to humankind. The fools don't know that the magic in our blood is so potent that they will be little more than animals within a generation or two. When Theon left, I followed. I wasn't sure we would ever go back, but Theon insisted that we would, when the time was right. And now, Sarina is with child. The time has come for us to return."

He looked back at Clara, their eyes locking.

"So if you stay with me, you will leave this place. Theon and I have been making plans for our travel. We need to reach Askafell before Sarina is unable to travel. Theon insists that his child be born in his homeland. He knows the wolfen won't accept an heir that is born outside of the Valley."

Clara felt a thrill rush through her at Torbin's words. You will leave this place.

I will leave this place.

She would have pinched herself had the ache in her throat and the tightness of the torn skin on her back not done the job for her. She was not dreaming. She had been freed; well and truly taken forever from the small, unwelcoming house she had never thought of as home.

A dry laugh burst through Clara's lips as she realised that tears had spilled down her cheeks. The furrow on Torbin's brow had deepened at the sight, but Clara could only smile and wrap her arms around his neck, laughing again at his stupefied silence.

After a moment she drew back, meeting his expectant gaze.

"Please," she said plainly, "please take me from here. Let me stay with you."

A disbelieving smile broke out under the stubble across Torbin's jaw. He moved into her, pressing a hot, wet kiss against her lips before pulling back.

"If you insist," he growled, moving his hands to the hem of her skirt.

Still on his knees before her, he flicked it up with a flourish, eliciting a gasp from Clara.

He moved his hands up her thighs, now exposed, pushing her legs apart.

Still teetering on the edge of the chair to protect the parts of her that were bruised and tender, Clara was exposed to Torbin. She felt a moan begin in her throat at the mere feeling of his hungry gaze on her bare skin, and gasped again as he leant down, placing a kiss against the inside of her thigh.

He nipped at her flesh, pressing hot kisses in a trail that led only to one place.

Clara's hand flew to the back of his head, her fingers threading through his hair to slow his pace.

"Gently," she breathed, "gently..."

In a slow, deliberate action he pressed his lips against her folds, his tongue pushing out to taste her. A growl rumbled in his throat at the taste, but he kept himself restrained, drawing his tongue up her pussy in long, agonising streaks of pleasure. Another lick followed another, until Clara's hands were no longer pulling him back, but pushing him greedily in between her legs as a languid sigh fell from her lips. Encouraged, Torbin increased his pace, lapping at her pussy hungrily until her thighs were pressing against his head, trembling with the waves of pleasure that crashed through her.

"Torbin, I need - I need -" Clara's words were cut off by her moan as Torbin's lips closed around the sensitive nub of flesh at the peak of her sex. The intensity of the sensations that pulsed through her had doubled, the pleasure almost too much as Torbin sucked and swirled his tongue around her clitoris.

"Mmm?" He purred, the vibrations of his voice moving through her swollen flesh. "What do you need, Clara?"

The moment of distraction as Torbin lifted his head from her pussy to speak, his lips glistening with her wetness, was all she needed. With strength he hadn't expected from her, she pushed him back until he was forced to lay on the floor, adjusting himself under her weight. His eyebrows raised and a grin spread across his face as she doggedly undid his trousers and pulled his cock free.

The sight of her above him, hair mussed, lips parted, legs spread around his hips was almost as sweet as the velvet sensation of her sex pressing down onto his cock. The sultry warmth enveloped him as Clara lowered herself until their hips were flush against each other, his cock buried within her.

"This is what I need," she panted as she began rocking her hips back and forth, eliciting a groan from Torbin. His cock pushed rhythmically against the sensitive spot inside her as she moved back and forth, the sensations building quickly inside her once more. Torbin ran his hands over her body, pulling her skirts up so that he could watch her puffy, pink pussy move on him, like liquid heat around his cock.

Clara's breathing grew ragged above him. He drank in the sight of her, moving rhythmically on him, head thrown back, her hands kneading her own breasts with fervour through her dress. She was close, and it was driving him mad.

Patience, he thought, feeling her pussy begin to flutter and clamp around him. Finally, the orgasm poured through her as she came on his cock. She fell forward onto his chest, a delicate yet guttural moan coming from her as she trembled atop him.

Without hesitation, Torbin gripped Clara's hips and lifted her, allowing just enough space for him to thrust into her and grind out his own orgasm. She trembled as he filled her with his thick, virile seed, and he knew that she was satisfied.

--

The crickets had begun their evening chorus by the time Clara and Torbin stood in the doorway of Sarina and Theon's cottage. Clara had balked at the size of it as they approached, not realising that the cabin her and Torbin shared was practically the home of a pauper by comparison. It was a half hour's walk to reach it around the grassy base of the mountain, the curve of the land blocking out any line of sight between the two homes. Sarina's gleaming face had welcomed them, and now they sat around a wooden table by the heart eating a hearty venison stew, the fragrant flavour of onion and rosemary curling through the air. Across from Clara, Theon drained his bowl and put it back on the tabletop with a thunk.

"Excellent meat," he grunted, "well caught, brother."

Clara noted quietly that his voice shared the same rough, deep quality as Torbin's, but with a distinctively mature quality. A voice fit for a future king.

"Tomorrow, then," Theon continued, his gaze falling pointedly on Torbin, who chewed a chunk of venison in silence. "Tomorrow we begin our journey. The solstice has passed. We cannot wait any longer."

Torbin swallowed, then spoke, not looking at his brother. "She must rest. I won't push her."

Theon's stare remained resolute as he stood, and Clara realised that Torbin was talking about her. She wanted to speak up, to assure them that she was fine, but the tension in the air kept her silent. This same tension, in her old home, would send her off to find a chore in some out-of-the-way part of her aunt's home, fearing that the anger would come her way in the form of a rough slap across the face, or a saucer thrown in her direction.

Sarina spoke up, cutting through the tension like a knife through soft butter with her unabashed confidence. "Theon, you do realise it'll be another four or five months before I'm condemned to my lying in, don't you? If Clara needs another day or two then she can absolutely take it. I'll not be forcing the poor girl to travel three days on foot with a torn up back and a... Well..." She gestured with one hand to Clara, who reddened as all three sets of eyes fell on her.

"I- I'm fine," She managed to squeak out, suddenly finding interest in the dregs of potato that sat at the bottom of her bowl. You have a voice! She chided herself. Use it!

Theon sighed, softening. "You're right. It's not Clara's fault that Torbin took so long to choose his mate. A day or two, but no more. The child must be born on our land."

Sarina placed a reassuring hand on Theon's arm and spoke gently. "It will be."

"Now," she said, her tone changing, "Clara, why don't you come with me while the boys finish up?"

Clara nodded and pushed back her chair, carrying her soup bowl with her to the next room - a small rectangular space that functioned as both kitchen and pantry. Dried ropes of herbs and onion hung from the wall furthest from the cook space, from which the smell of leftover stew wafted.

"Leave your bowl there, on the bench, and some with me," Sarina said, placing her own bowl down on the hewn pine bench and moving to a door at the end of the short room.

Clara followed obediently, finding herself quite unable to imagine doing anything other than what Sarina asked of her. Whenever she spoke, Clara felt an inviting warmth in her voice that was both reassuring and alluring.

The room they entered was the bedroom. A canopied bed stood in the centre of the room with what seemed to Clara to be a feather mattress complete with a woollen quilt and linen canopy. Clara's jaw dropped open, gaping at the luxury compared to the straw tick mattress that she and Torbin slept on in their simple home. A giggle from Sarina made Clara pull her eyes away from the sight.

"Listen," Sarina said, "Torbin just likes to keep things simple. The Offerings over the years have kept us well looked after." As she spoke, she opened a solid oak chest at the foot of the bed, throwing back the heavy lid. Clara's eyes grew round at the sight within - fine clothing was folded neatly to one end, while to the other end was three bulging pouches and a small wooden box. One of them was partially open, and from within glinted coins of gold, silver and bronze. Clara had never seen this much money in her life -- the most she had handled in her trips to the market were the dull bronze coins she used to buy the necessities her aunt sent her for.

Sarina pulled out a hooded velvet cloak from the pile and held it out to Clara.

"Here, try this. You don't need it now, but as it comes into autumn it will keep away the chill."

Clara pulled the cloak on. The soft fabric caressed her, and she caught the faint scent of lavender. It was a deep red in colour, with a golden trim along the edges of the cloak and three deep grey round buttons at the neck.

"It suits you perfectly," Sarina said warmly. "Take it back with you tonight and pack it with your things for when we leave."

"Thank you," Clara said, fingering the fine golden embroidery in awe.

Next, Sarina pulled out the small wooden box. She opened it and Clara saw that within was a plain silver band, polished and untarnished. Sarina took it from the box and slid it over the fourth finger on her left hand, where it sat snugly.

"Theon had it made when his seed finally took," she said, holding her hand up before her. "In these lands if a woman is with child and a ring isn't visible, people assume the worst. They're a judgmental lot, really. We have some marriage papers somewhere, too, in case anyone comes prying while we travel."

The sight of the silver ring on Sarina's hand made Clara's heart flutter. She hadn't even considered the prospect of marriage since being taken for her Offering. In her life before, the prospect had brought a twisted pit of anxiety to her stomach at the thought of being wed off to Darien -- a desperate, unsavoury sort that did little to arouse interest in Clara. Unlike Torbin.

With that, Sarina closed the lid of the trunk and took Clara's hand, leading her back to the main room, where Theon and Torbin stood before the fire, discussing the first leg of their travels. At the sound of the women entering the room, they turned, and Clara's eyes met Torbin's. His gaze travelled down her, taking in the sight of her new cloak, and Clara thought he saw his expression soften.

As Sarina moved to Theon, showing off the newly-adorned ring, Torbin moved wordlessly to Clara. She felt her breath still as he approached, his presence driving away all lingering thoughts of her past life.

"I don't think you'll need this just yet, but..." Torbin's voice was low as he reached towards her. His fingers found her neck, and he gently tugged the two sides of the cloak together, threading the buttons through the eyelets one by one.

"The colour suits you," He murmured, one hand drifting to a curling lock of her brown hair and tugging it gently, the other hand tracing a line down the front of her cloak, reaching --

"You two should head back," Theon's gruff voice interrupted. Torbin stepped back, and Clara saw the look of hunger plain on Theon's face as he raked his eyes over Sarina, her left hand pressed to his lips.

Clara was sure she saw Torbin roll his eyes.

--

The morning of their departure arrived sooner than Clara was ready for.

The little cabin had been good to her. Simple as it was, it had become a kind of home. The attic in her aunt's house had been space of her own -- a sanctuary, but always carrying the threat of someone bursting in, demanding a floor be scrubbed or a meal prepared. Here, she had no such threat weighing on her. She could step out into the tranquility of the foot of the mountain any time she wanted, bathe in the fresh spring, walk in the light-dappled forest. The thought of leaving brought a sense of sadness, but something else was stoked, too.

Curiosity.

The same curiosity that had been kindled within her as she first walked up the steps to the cabin, that had been flamed by the possibility that unfolded before her as she had slowly accepted that her fate had been changed forever by Torbin's choice.

"We'll head first to Werriton," Torbin had explained to her. "It's three days' ride from here heading east and then north-east. Theon and I have made the trip many times, trading and traveling throughout the region, but we typically travel on foot."

The wry grin as he had said 'on foot' told Clara that this meant that the two of them took full advantage of the speed that their wolfen forms granted them. Clara and Sarina had no such ability, so Torbin and Theon had spent some of their hoarded riches on three horses to carry them the distance.

Her few belongings packed and handed off to Torbin, she placed a hand on the rough wood of the door in a silent farewell to the cabin.

The light of dawn strengthened around them as they made their way to Sarina and Theon's home, the pair walking silently. Clara glanced at Torbin. Was he nervous about the return to a homeland that he had left in a show of loyalty to his brother? Was he... excited?

Before she could find the words to voice her probing questions, they had arrived. Two of the horses were saddled, the third loaded with their belongings.

Sarina gave her a wry smile as they approached, checking over the saddlebags. Theon nodded to his brother.

"Have you ridden much?" Torbin asked, leading Clara to a piebald mare.

"Enough," she replied, stroking the mare's smooth neck.

"Perfect."

With a deft motion, Torbin wrapped his hands around Clara's waist and lifted her to the saddle. Resisting the urge to shriek, Clara clung to the mare's mane, her heart thudding as her backside made contact with the sturdy saddle.

Before she could respond, Torbin had hauled himself up behind her, his arms encircling her waist as he picked up the reins. In a motion that Clara swore was deliberate, he eased his hips forward until they were flush against hers. With a quiet word from Torbin, the horse began to carry them onward.

The first day of riding passed uneventfully, the small forest path they followed east soon joining a larger, well-worn path that led north-east. The wolfen exchanged silent nods with any travellers or merchants they passed. They stopped every hour or two, drinking from their waterskins and eating handfuls of berries and dried meats. Each time they remounted, Torbin took the same care in helping her up, his hands holding her waist in a gentle but firm grip. Each time, Clara found herself unconsciously leaning back into his hard chest, feeling the warmth that radiated from it.

When the day began to slip away into dusk, the wolfen led the horses onto a barely-visible trail that led into the forest, the trees closing in around them. Not long after, they emerged at a clearing, the trees thinning out to give way to sparse patches of grass. The horses were brought to a stop, and Torbin dismounted, helping Clara down to the ground. Her legs felt like jelly under her from the long day's ride, but she still took in her surroundings. They were far enough from the road that they were sheltered by the thick forest, the trees forming a wall of dark protectors. A blackened ring of stones in the centre of the clearing told Clara that this was a frequent rest stop for Theon and Torbin in their travels.

Exhausted from the long day, the travellers spoke little as they prepared camp. They had packed two cotton canvas tents, light enough to sleep comfortably in the hot weather. As Theon and Torbin deftly constructed the shelters, she realised that Theon would have been especially keen to avoid travel in the autumn, when the nights brought a bitter chill with them. By travelling in summer, and with Sarina so early in her pregnancy, they could move faster and pack lighter.

Her hand moved to her neck, feeling the place where dark bruises had recently been. They were now a pale yellow splashed across the skin, a testament to the way her body had changed in the weeks since she had been with Torbin. Where Clara thought she would feel trepidation, again only a thrill of curiosity ran through her. She would see a new town for the first time in a few days, and a new land for the first time not long after.

That is, if I survive all this horse riding, she thought ruefully, rubbing her aching legs.

--

Finally, after a small meal of freshly caught rabbit and some potatoes baked in the coals of their small fire, the couples separated into their tents. Clara fell into what felt like a leaden sleep, her body welcoming the chance to rest.

But in the small hours of the morning, she drifted toward consciousness, woken by a sound that she wasn't sure whether she had dreamt. The canvas of the tent billowed softly above her, and the nighttime chorus of insects and wood animals continued on unperturbed.

As Clara floated in the space between sleeping and waking, the sound came again.

"Ah..."

The muffled, whining tone was unmistakeable, and the growl that answered it confirmed Clara's suspicions. Heat curled low in her belly as she noticed a second noise - a soft, rhythmic sound floating from Sarina and Theon's tent. Biting her lip, Clara closed her eyes and let herself listen, feeling very much like a dirty voyeur.

"Yes, yes... Ah..."

A long, low groan broke through the night from the other tent, and Clara's hand twitched lower under the blanket, temptation taking over. Before she could reach the place she sought, a heavy arm draped itself over her and pulled her in tightly.