Roderick and Gorlana Pt. 05

Roderick held her small body in tight control, sliding himself up and lowering her down towards his aching starving cock. One hand nearly encircled her long skinny thigh and the other nearly completely contained her cute perky buttock as he brought her down and penetrated her. His cock slid its pulsing rigid length slowly but persistently in to her tight pussy, each of their breaths rising in excitement with every inch that drove deeper.

"Oh Roderick, we shouldn't... ah! Oh be careful!"

"Ugh! Valessa!"

"Ah! Ah! Oh Gods! It feels so good but don't cum inside me!"

"Agh! Okay," he panted back.

The angelic skin of her perfect royal body jostled with cute whimpering moans. The delicate, lightweight flesh of her breasts splashing in waves over her chest, leaning back and bracing her thin arms against his thighs, she squeezed with all her might and only made him wince when her nails dug in. They continued in thoughtless blissful passion, his body spurred on helplessly by the veritable goddess on top of him, as it always was, his cock rigid and pulsing at her beck and call. Yet his instinct to cum, to give her his seed... seemed miles away.

He concentrated. He screamed internally at himself that it was madness to have to take his mind away from the heaven that she was bestowing upon him. He huffed and groaned and tried to cherish every inch of this perfect affectionate body that every woman in the realm would envy and every man would crave. She noticed his face and slowed down, then lifted herself off of him, assuming he was close.

"Come on, Oh Roderick. In the back. It's not close enough to the wedding to-... Oh! AH! My Darling!" she wailed as she sunk down and his cock entered into her ass.

He grunted and gritted his teeth as she squeezed down on him. She moaned in quick agonizing exclamations as she bounced excitedly, making him pump in and out of her with a jarring quickness. They both arched backwards and closed their eyes. He was nowhere, with no one in particular, with only flesh smacking wetly with no meaning or purpose. He opened his eyes and focused on the green curtains on the other side of the room.

With wincing, almost painful persistent effort, he finally started to cum. His balls reluctantly released and his cock spurted in stifled quick jolts inside of her. He ground his teeth and grunted in a disorienting mix of pleasure and unfulfilled searching need. Her flowery scent was so beautiful yet so bland as he seethed in rigid breaths.

"Ah! Ow! Roderick your hurting my hips!"

He eased his straining hands off of her narrow pelvis. Moments later, he finished his quick orgasm feeling like he was only half satisfied, but was able to smile back, and share tender kisses with his fiance as she collapsed on to him with flattered giggles.

"Mmm. It's fun to send you so helplessly out of control but try not to be too hard on me, darling," she purred into his neck.

He sighed and held her preciously, "I'm sorry."

She smiled, "I know we'll miss each other on your trip but don't worry, we'll both survive, and I'll give just as good of a welcome back."

He nodded in resignation. "I'll go if you really need me to," he said with a serious smile.

She smirked and rubbed her nose into him, "Of course you will," she said playfully then finally stood up and started to make herself decent.

"Is there anything you want me to bring back for you?" Roderick asked as he pulled his pants back on.

She gave a quick scoff, "Yes, an orcish queen in good spirits."

He smiled and rolled his eyes, "I mean a gift."

"What would Fringeland possibly have to offer, that I don't have already?" she said wryly.

Roderick gave her a thoughtful frown and eventually replied, "The mountain flowers will be in spectacular bloom when I'm there."

"They'll be shrivelled by the time you get them to me. And if I wanted pressings the museum has every species in its catalogue, and if I wanted some in my gardens they would already be there."

She continued, seeming to read his annoyance, "All I need," she said with a saunter up to him and her light hands on his shoulders, "is for my favourite Duke to perform his duties diligently."

He returned her brilliant confident smile with a much smaller one and they shared a kiss.

"How's your father?" he asked.

She sighed and twisted her mouth sourly, "The head Physicker says he's fully recovered from the seizure last week. His internal organs functioning well. Some days I wish they'd tell me he's finally deteriorating fully. ...and NOT out of desire for his throne."

"Of course," he reassured her with a hug, "I'd never think that."

"Well then you're better than some of the nobles," she commented, "I'm still not sure whether to even have him physically present at the negotiations. He can barely even speak in a quiet mumble anymore since the third stroke, and what he does say isn't always coherent anymore."

"Whatever you think is right," he said with a sympathetic smile.

"Oh don't look at me like that I'm fine. He's been heading downhill for over two years, he's honestly the least of my worries right now," she said. "Let's both get back to work, I know for a fact you have papers to look over in your office." she said with a raised eyebrow and a smile, then gave him a last parting kiss.

Roderick returned to his office, only a short way down the hall, and began to sort through the parchments on his work desk.

He could barely focus. It always happened after he and Valessa got romantic. The feeling of a job half done, of an itch only brushed lightly instead of scratched, began to build steadily.

He ignored it and began to read and sign off on reports and orders. Only a few minutes later though he found himself reading the same page over and over, not able to concentrate on the words for long enough to make it through. He exhaled a frustrated breath.

Don't. It's been 3 weeks you've managed without it. Stay strong.

He started the page again, and two sentences in, closed his eyes tightly and swore.

Damn the Gods, you should have thrown it away.

The thought of doing that set his body almost in a panic and he grasped the edge of the desk and calmed his breathing. He finally went back to the parchment, and started to read the boring unimportant report as if it were the most interesting, enthralling piece of writing deserving of his full, undivided attention...

He signed it. Then he threw the pen on the table and nearly ran to his chambers, swearing at himself the whole way. He unclasped a lock box from below his desk, found the key quickly, nearly fumbling it in his haste, and finally opened it and looked at its precious contents. He reached down to his belt, unclasping it and hurriedly lowering his pants, his cock springing out in anticipation.

The lock of Gorlana's hair, that had been her parting gift when she released him to Valessa, lay inside.

He pumped his cock, his body jolting in excitement simply at the sight of it and groaned, humping forward into himself as the hint of its scent stared to reach his nostrils. He finally gave in to his straining resistance and let himself reach for it and pick it up. The smell had waned over the months but it was still there. Still her. He lifted it to his nose and breathed in. He grunted a coarse exhalation of pure animal satisfaction as she entered his lungs and his body lost control.

In a sudden panic he dropped the lock of hair and scrambled to reach for a cloth. He wasn't fast enough. His powerful orgasm rushed in with a weight of pure deep satisfaction and his cum shot from his cock and on to the opposite wall.

He swore and managed to cover his tip with a cloth to catch the rest. He pumped himself and humped into his hand as his balls finally were released with the satisfaction they desired, cumming in huge pent up spurts that the cloth barely contained. His huffing and grunting finally settled to groans and he collapsed on his knees in exhaustion.

When he caught his breath he suddenly realized the lock of hair had fallen under the table and he quickly reached for it. He held it carefully and preciously, lifting it back and placing it in the lock box again, gulping at the terrible thought of throwing it away. He would try to convince himself otherwise tomorrow, yet again. Perhaps eventually he would succeed.

He cleaned himself and the wall, hoping the maids wouldn't notice any stain. When he was done, he pulled the vial of scentsfoil from his inner pocket, wondering what it would feel like to take it. He could not decide whether he should request a lifetime supply, or throw it away in disgust.

He shut away the lock box in its hiding place and walked away from it, knowing he could not truly walk away from what it held, and what it meant. Not yet at least.

...

2 weeks later,

On the Roancliff pass, Generals Lightbrew and Springsnake met again. Their armies were smaller, simply an honour guard, lined up formally along the pass road, and no battle was fought. They finally met peacefully, as equals. The precarious narrow path became even narrower at the site of the landslide, most of the larger rocks and rubble moved away, but not entirely. The gap where the path had been completely destroyed was now spanned by an arched wooden bridge, already modified and reinforced significantly since Valessa and Darganya's rushed construction. Gorlana looked across it at Roderick, who stood on the other side of the bridge, looking out over the beautiful expanse of canyon until finally moving his attention back to her.

Her heart beat faster. She had stopped at the bridge, seeing them awaiting their arrival. She hadn't expected Roderick to cross over to meet her. There were no words of invitation that needed to be spoken. Still, she hesitated.

"Queen Gorlana. I'm honoured to welcome you to Andralia," Roderick called to her.

It was not any true fear of the bridge and the sheer fall to the canyon below it, or of Andralia on the other side, but the stoic formality of Roderick's voice that made her hesitate further. It was the way he should speak to her. The way he had to. She had told herself she had to do the same so many times prior to this day. Nevertheless, her stiff heart warmed when his body relaxed with a smirk and he stepped forward onto the planks.

He spoke casually as he crossed it towards her, "It may look like a death trap I admit, but it is not meant to be one truly." He stomped twice on the planks and the bridge did not shake or sway.

She looked up at him as he stopped in front of her and held out a regal hand. His handsome face, clean cut above his flawless royal armour with combed hair, and a close trimmed beard, was so different, yet unmistakably him. Her Roderick. Closer to her dreams and fantasies than the dirt-caked half-starved man she had still fallen for again, those many months ago.

She only let the faintest of smirks onto her tight, serious expression but it was belied by a heat rising in her cheeks as she replied, "I should know enough to trust the expertise of Andralian engineering, but I appreciate your reassurance, Duke Roderick."

His smile seemed to tighten at the formal name, and he flinched when her hand met his, but she kept her appreciative stare at him and his grip grew steadily tighter as he led her by the hand over the wooden bridge. Her tingling and nervousness was not due entirely to the sheer drop from the edge of the narrow wooden structure, but when they were halfway it had dispersed into an energy, almost blissful, as she held his hand. His scent reached her, diluted by the breeze, but so much more fresh and potent than the lock of hair she still kept preciously over these long months.

She turned, almost afraid to breath in his addicting musk too much, and instead looked out over the gorgeous mountain canyon and whispered, "Its beautiful."

He looked out over the view as well and then back to her, his stony expression softening in a small regretful smile, "It is," he replied quietly.

For a few precious seconds it was as though they were free, in a place beyond either realm, to simply walk as contented lovers on a picturesque bridge.

It could not last. They both removed their hands quickly as they set foot on the hard earth again. They stood side by side in straight politeness as her orcish contingent followed. Zurgana and Faringoll were among them, as well as Carthala and Torvrul.

Roderick returned a small bow to each, and said "I'm glad to meet you again under better circumstances." Then his expression belied a hint of a sour look and Gorlana was sure he had spotted Traulch among the others further back.

Gorlana spoke quickly to change his attention, "We are honoured as well. Lead the way, and we will convene when we arrive in a less precarious environment."

He nodded to her with a look that was now empty and formal as her words had been, and they moved on.

Gorlana tried to simply focus her mind on appreciating the wonder of finally seeing this side of the Ramparts. The place she had fought so hard to penetrate, now opened to her willingly. It was beautiful. The cascading waterfalls and steep slopes with the ever smaller trees clinging impossibly to the rock, surrounded them above and below. The path became even narrower and steeper and she began to get nervous in truth about her external struggles more than her internal ones, but finally, it began to descend again and widen out. They walked downwards in a long curving road, and finally, as the sun began to glimmer with the first hints of a sunset, the hills of Fringeland stretched before her.

It was such a different type of beautiful. In contrast to the broken craggy buttes that jumbled her Orthalian side, these hills rolled from steeper to gradually flatter in smooth waves of forest. She slowed her steps as she gazed over the almost never-ending view from their height. She finally broke out of her trance and looked over to catch Roderick staring at her, just as thoughtfully. He quickly looked away, out at the same view, seeming to avoid looking back at her, and continued his march. She did as well, wanting to tell him how beautiful his homeland was, but she stayed silent, kept her eyes from him, and trudged on.

They continued to descend into the foothills for the last few hours of daylight, stopping to set up camp with only just enough time left before dark.

Shortly after all seemed settled for the night, she received a summons, as she expected. With a brave sigh she pulled her dark cloak tightly around herself and began her walk to Roderick's tent.

She knew the likely reason he wanted, or perhaps simply was obligated, to see her, but that made her no less nervous. As she approached she could already tell he was inside the tent by his smell. Now, with the mountain breeze gone, in the calm of night, it was all the more intoxicating even through the tent fabric. She stopped and looked up at the stars, and a single tear of helplessness fell down her cheek.

She stared up at them, as if asking not just her aunt, but any spirit of any orc that might hear her, if what she was doing was right. To numb herself to him. To make herself less of an orc for the sake of Orthalia. She stared at the black star-dusted sky and pleaded within herself for an answer.

"Just as beautiful here as in Orthalia."

She gasped and stepped back exhaling with a hand over her bosom and then balled a fist in embarrassment.

Roderick only let a small apologetic smirk on his rigid face, but his eyes were soft, "The stars I mean. At least one thing that's familiar out here. I don't blame you for staring."

"Not the only thing," she said, trying not to stare at his soft, clean features, both familiar and enticingly different.

"Sorry for surprising you. It smelled like something was wrong as you approached, so I came out to check." She stiffened in nervous excitement at the sudden thought of him smelling her so sensitively, but as he stepped up to her he simply looked up, asking her, "Which constellation were you looking at?"

She let out a breath and let herself lean close to him and pointed, "The mother."

He gulped and seemed like he wanted to put an arm on her, but only replied, "I'd learned you lost yours when you were young."

She shrugged, "In my middle years, she went on an expedition and was never found. She could have run away for all we know, she was always a wild, free spirit."

Roderick frowned, "Would she really have abandoned you?"

Gorlana sighed and shook her head, "No, she did truly love me. But, she was always someone who lived for her passions rather than her obligations. Adventuring and exploring rather than ruling or guarding. She left that to her sister. And then, just when I was almost old enough to go with her on her exploits, she gets herself killed."

She could smell his sympathy and discomfort but continued, "I never knew who my father was. It was a secret she took to her grave. So, Malgora took me in. She had always been as much of a mother to me even before my true mother passed. I've always told myself I would be better, and not let my passions overrule my obligations as she did."

Roderick nodded, "Well, I'm sorry for both your losses," then to break the sombre silence he said, "We call it the boat."

"...What?"

He leaned in closer to her and pointed, "It's curved like the gunnel of a boat."

She scoffed and shook her head, "No, that's a mother's arms cradling an infant. That's the head up there," she said, touching her forehead to his and gently moving his pointed finger.

"No, that's the mast. The sail."

She laughed at him, "That one star? Where's the rest of it?"

"Where's the rest of the HEAD?" he laughed back.

She pulled away just enough to look at him with playful annoyance and a cutely green-dimpled frown. Then the closeness of their breaths and the unmistakable affection in their scents hit them both simultaneously, and they stepped back. Roderick looked behind them nervously, though no one was around.

"Let's head inside," he said with a more serious look that told her they both knew why.

His tent wasn't a mess, but she could tell his spotless decorum that he had displayed so far was not truly his natural state. She stayed silent, with effort. Telling him to clean up his supper scraps or his mess of a bed was his royal fiance's job, not hers.

He looked around in embarrassment, "Sorry, for the..."

"I didn't say anything," she replied with a cool indifference, ignoring a smirk and a side-eye from him, until she saw his weapons sitting unsheathed in a bucket and couldn't help blurting out, "How can you keep your weapons like that?!"

He chuckled, "Yeah, I know, but those are ceremonial. My useful ones are protected and sharp." he then looked askance guiltily, "Don't, um, tell Valessa or anyone else I keep them like that."

She couldn't help giggling at him and nodding mischievously.

"Between you and me they're next to useless but they look pretty and I've been informed that the Duke of Fringeland must be seen with his proper royal sword and lance as he travels throughout the realm."

Gorlana shrugged, "You're asking the wrong woman for sympathy if you're complaining of being honour-bound to any number of impractical royal obligations."

He scoffed a laugh, "Yeah, I can only imagine. I'm sure you have it worse."

She pursed her lips and shrugged, "It's what we fought for. What we wanted."

"Yeah," Roderick said, but she could smell his doubt unmistakably.

He left it at that and turned to a small folding desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a glass vial. He turned around and faced her with a troubled look, holding it close to him.

"I'm supposed to give this to you, and witness you taking it."

She nodded with determination. "Yes, I'm well aware, s-"