Roderick and Gorlana

Why the fuck does that even matter? He asked himself as he darted between the trees and bushes. The same dagger suddenly thrummed into a tree truck next to his face.

He looked back to see her still following him. The contour of her female body extremely obvious now, he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed, even in his initial spastic defense. The cry she had let out when his dagger hit had been higher pitched as well, he realized.

She was gaining on him. She still had a sword. He had nothing. He knew female orcs were just as dangerous as males. Many a soldier had died not believing that fact. To face any orc in one on one combat was a bad idea, let alone with no weapon. So he kept going, darting through the foliage, moving down the slope, glancing back to see her determined pursuit.

He suddenly saw a shining glint off to his right, and recognized armour on the ground. He bolted towards it and as he leaped over a bush he saw his own men, dead on the ground. The company that had been supposed to attack the flank from the right, that the orcs had killed before moving over the ridge. He broke out of his shock and dove out of the way of the orc-maiden's lunge as she caught up to him. He grabbed a sword hilt from a body at random and pulled it free just in time to parry away her quick second attack.

He succeeded in not only knocking it away but throwing her off balance, and a lucky trip on a fallen body sent her falling away to his left. He spun and swung at her, and his sword connected with her helmet, knocking it clean off and she wailed out in pain as she landed. She rolled quickly though and sat up to kneel and spin her curved orcish sword out in front of her.

Her hand instinctively moved to brush back her long black glistening hair out of her face to cascade down the other side of her head on to her shoulder. Her purple eyes met his with a sparkling intensity. Her face was furious, insulted...

...and beautiful.

It froze him in his tracks. The way her jaw was sharply-defined and complimented her high cheek-bones. The way her two white lower fangs only protruded just past the luscious red of her upper lip. The way the light-green of her face was smooth and rich and contrasted well with the thick waving black of her hair. The way her large chest heaved as she breathed...

He had taken his helmet off for visibility when he had been firing arrows, but she seemed to only now take in his face for the first time as well. She furrowed her brow and sniffed the air, looking at him with utter confusion as he stood motionless in front of her. She finally let out an annoyed grunt and pushed herself up to attack him.

He was quickly brought back to reality and blocked the deadly swing, stepping to the side and nimbly jumping over another body to avoid another attack.

She stopped and studied his face again, gritting her teeth. She suddenly spoke. Her voice low, for a woman, but smooth like dark silk.

"You're the one who killed Durrog," she said.

Roderick panted, "Who?"

Her mouth snarled, "My captain....My betrothed. You threw the spear."

He suddenly clued in. She was an orc out for revenge. He was fucked.

He backed away, knowing she would stop at nothing to kill him. He looked around and stooped down quickly to grab a large shield from another fallen soldier. She scoffed derisively. He set his jaw and widened his stance, knowing he'd have to kill her. Beautiful or not....if he could. He would probably lose. Strangely he wasn't as scared as he had been facing his death on the battlefield. The air somehow felt different.

"Yes. I killed him. He fell gloating like a fool. And I'd do it again," he said confidently, standing firm.

She yelled out and attacked swinging her sword wildly. He rotated his stance and directed it away with his shield easily. Thrusting out his sword as she lurched away to the side, but coming up short and flinching back as she spun around unexpectedly and sliced at him again. He barely blocked it away with his shield this time and stumbled over a dead arm.

She stopped as he regained his feet and she looked down and picked up a human sword with her other hand. She stood, menacing and gorgeous with a blade in each hand. He had time to think briefly. She looked young. Maybe as young as him, but she was clearly more experienced and confident. He tried to believe he could still beat her if he was quick and smart, but he was having a hard time believing it. He should try to get back to the others at the battle, they had seemed to be winning. He already knew he couldn't outrun her though. Maybe if he pretended to let her drive him back in that direction. Pretended... Now which direction was that?...

She let out a frustrated growl evidently having waited for him to attack, but having lost patience, and leaped forward, stepping gingerly over bodies with her feet to approach him. He planted himself on the balls of his feet, following her amazingly graceful movements closely and pivoted as she reached him, thankfully guessing her swing approach right, and stepped back out of reach of her quick second swing as she flew by.

He kept backing up away from her in the direction he thought was right. The noise of the battle was faint and seemed to be echoing off the hills all around. He stepped away from another wild double-sworded attack, holding the shield steady with firm feet, and not taking her feints, stabbing past it when he could, and almost striking home a couple times. He kept working his way backwards away from the fallen soldiers and further into the woods.

"It's not that far back I'll let you go pick up a shield instead of that needless extra sword if you want," he taunted.

He had learned, in his few lessons with the army's swordmaster, that in a duel a taunt wasn't to gloat but it make your opponent angry enough to make a mistake. Her yell and attack made him worried she'd be angry enough to slice through his shield.

"AGH! Keep cowering behind your little wall you green welp, I'm surprised you can lift it," she spat back.

He spun sideways to block another sudden lunge and made her twist suddenly to avoid his counter-attack, her shoulder almost tasting his sword-tip.

"Did you just use 'green' as an insult?" he chuckled breathlessly.

She furrowed her brow and tried to fake another swing but Roderick noticed her stance change and caught her other sword with his as it flew in from the side.

"Save your breath little man, you don't want me to tire you out too quickly," she panted, giving him another angry look, but perhaps a slight amusement behind her eyes now.

"Little man?" he said, still gradually walking back away from her. "I think I'm a hair taller than you, short-stuff,"

She swung at him but to his surprise she laughed as she did, kicking dirt up towards his face but it was not enough to phase him as he blocked her and moved back again. She WAS somewhat short for an orc. The males were usually a full foot taller than most men, with the females somewhat shorter he knew, but even at his 6 foot 4 inches, she was smaller than usual to be of a height with him. Her legs were certainly still long enough, he found himself thinking. Her heavy, leather-armored skirt ended just above the knee with her tight boots ending just below them, but their smooth muscled thickness caught his eye still.

"I wasn't talking about your height," she said with a sly smile, glancing downwards.

She evidently thought that might distract him too but he raised his shield to block her wild swing up at his face, and he swung his sword underneath it striking hard against the scabbard on her hip. She fell but rolled up quickly and snarled in a crouch. She had been lucky it hit her scabbard, and she looked like she knew it. More insulted now, he thought. Though her eyes moved over him in a more calculating way, and her nose sniffed the air again.

There WAS something strange about the air, he thought. Orcs had a smell, he knew. One that didn't go away completely with diluted genetics, he was loathe to have experienced first hand. His whole life he had perfected hiding it and making excuses when people still sometimes noticed. He sometimes wondered if it was partly why he was still a virgin. He got a whiff of that semi-familiar smell when she got close, but there was something about it that made him feel odd.

No more time to think as she circled to the left and lashed out again. This time mostly just seeming to test him and driving him back a few more paces. He looked behind himself and backed up again, wondering if he had gotten turned around. The noise of the battle wasn't sounding any louder.

As if to read his thoughts she spoke up with a confident toothy grin, "If you were hoping to retreat back to your soldiers to save yourself, you're going the wrong way."

Roderick stopped and forced himself not to look back again. "That's fine. Even if I don't kill you, I just need to keep you occupied until they finish off what's left of your army and come to find us," he said, making it up off the top of his head and thinking it sounded believable.

"We are not defeated," she bit back, but he thought he could sense a hint of doubt to her voice.

"You sure? You were dwindling faster than us. I thought that's why you ran away, and lucked out to run into me?" he said with as sly a smile as he could muster.

"I did no such thing! I found you to kill you!" she yelled out and attacked in a flurry, fast and vicious enough to make him doubt his tactic.

He knew he wasn't going to charm her though. Even if he had met her in a tavern, an orc girl this attractive must have had her pick of these brutes, what could he be to her? He shook the odd thought from his mind. His only hope was to make her angry enough to make a mistake. She wasn't making any though.

He held to his training and kept his stance and his angle of defense as she darted around him and yelled out in frustration as she flew by and was blocked away again without striking home with either sword. She was expending far more energy, darting around and circling while he stood steady. So far she was unable to coax him to counter-attack with any of the same fervour. She had to tire eventually, right?

"Throw down that damned shield and face me like a man!" she growled breathlessly.

"You mean the way Durrog faced us like a man? I don't think that worked out too well for him," Roderick chirped back, meeting her searing purple eyes with a defiant stare.

The orc-maiden met his gaze and took a heavy breath with her heaving chest, then sniffed out suddenly and shook her head as if she had inhaled something she didn't like. She charged forward again and yelled in frustration again as he blocked and parried her, even though her second slice cut the air dangerously close to his face.

He backed up more and suddenly bumped against a tree, taking him by surprise and he grunted at the impact. She saw it and swung wildly forward hoping to catch him off guard. He ducked instead of raising his shield, hearing a thud, and backed up to see her sword stuck in the trunk of the tree. He instinctively swung overhead towards her wrist as she pulled at the unmoving hilt. Just before his blade was able to chop off her wrist, she suddenly let go and he hit nothing but air. The surprise made him stumble forward, off balance, and suddenly her boot connected with his face.

Stars and pain filled his mind as he rebounded backwards, somehow managing to hold on to his weapons but as her sword knocked his shield to the side her boot came up again and struck his wrist painfully, making him drop the shield. Then, as his heel caught a root he fell on to his back to see the overhead swing of her remaining sword fly towards his face.

He rolled desperately to the side and felt the sword slice through his hair before plunging into the dirt, with the orc-maiden's knee sinking into the leaves instead of his body. He spun and grabbed her sword-arm before it could lift the weapon out of the roots, and brought his own sword around to slice her throat but her free arm blocked his wrist strongly and the blade hung inches away from her as they strained against each other.

"Rrgh! You're stronger than you look," she muttered as they struggled.

He was suddenly very aware of himself wrapped around her body from behind. Their ankles intertwined. Her ass pressing back against his groin.

"You are too," he said, without thinking, huffing into her smooth green neck.

There was a brief moment when he thought she relaxed and turned her cheek towards him. His mind was turning to mush from the musk of her hair in his face and instead of pulling the sword to her neck he started to relax with her.

Suddenly his face was struck with the back of her head and he swore as they tumbled over the ground together, down a gradual slope and into a small meadow.

She ended up on top of him, with his arm levering her sword away from his neck now. His sword was pinned under her knee as he struggled to slide it free. She huffed over top of him, her eyes seeming to search his face with a bothered look, her nose twitching wildly. Her hips were pinning his down and as he breathed in the scent of her warm breath he felt his cock swell with a bizarrely sudden strength. Her hips seemed to roll and pin him down harder in response and he instinctively moved his with her. She sucked in a breath through her teeth and her mouth opened halfway. She was so fucking beautiful.

It's a ploy! He made himself think. Move before she kills you!

He let go of his sword and punched her in the face.

She let out a harsh screech as she fell to the side and he reached back down to grasp his freed sword and roll out from under her. He spun and to his surprise she was late to parry him and he sliced through her armour at the shoulder, drawing a small trickle of blood.

She cried out in surprise and for a split second he almost saw for the first time what looked like genuine hurt on her face. It quickly turned to a wild passionate snarl as she grasped her sword in both hands and rushed at him.

They each had only one sword now, his shield and her orcish blade both having been left further up the slope. He had no choice but to move as fast as her to avoid her deadly blows. The fact that she was only left with the straight human-style sword seemed to be his only saving grace, as she struggled to get used to it.

Somehow he managed to fend her off and parry her quick flying attacks but he was tiring quickly. He sucked air into his burning chest and tried not to stare at the rise and fall of hers. The nimble movement of those long powerful legs. The quick darting stare of those beautiful eyes.

For fuck's sake, what was wrong with him? That weird taste to the air...

He attacked. Trying to remind himself his life was on the line. She actually seemed to break out of her stare with him later than he expected and stumbled as she only blocked his swing at the last second.

He bodychecked her against a tree and brought his sword up to slice down on her but she was able to lift her hilt in time to catch it and their arms moved in an arc down to the ground. Their shoulders and faces pressed close together and her musk filled his nostrils again. They both seemed to pause until she shoved him away swinging just shy of his chest as he backed up. He sniffed out to get the intoxicating scent out of his nose.

She eyed him in confusion as she stood ready. "Why are YOU sniffing..." she said quietly, almost to herself. "Human's aren't supposed to-..."

Roderick tried to take her off guard in her confusion with a quick swing but she directed it away and stepped back again.

"Why do YOU smell like-..." she said quietly, looking more threatened than he felt she should.

He assumed she was trying to throw him off, and attacked rather than replied. She parried him away, but didn't attack back with the same viciousness as she had before. Was she finally getting tired?

He watched her stand ready, the wide bulge of her chest rose and fell. Was she pausing to catch her breath? Waiting for him to make his move?

He told himself he should attack, but it was getting harder to envision himself killing this girl. The more they fought and talked she seemed like just... a girl.

He spoke up finally, "The battle's died down over there. You can hear it. There's none of your war horns sounding though."

She looked to the side doubtfully then gave him a frustrated scowl without a reply.

"You know my army's almost certainly won," he said.

"But I can still kill you," she said, with a taunting tone, but a nervousness to her voice creeping through.

"Run. While you can. Just go," he said, feeling like he was pleading. "I won't chase after, I promise."

She snarled in offense. "I am no coward!" and ran at him in fresh anger.

He reacted quickly with surprise, his sword clanging against hers, again and again. He blocked her almost crazed desperate attacks with panicked speed, barely keeping his feet under him. She was losing accuracy though, he saw. She yelled out in an intense aggravation, seeming like she was simply trying to break his sword each time. He had time to see her large overhead swing coming well before she lowered it and stepped aside instead of blocking. He swung at her and she lurched desperately to block it, throwing her off balance. He attacked again quickly, and she barely blocked it again and stumbled over a root. As she flailed, Roderick swung at her hand and she dropped the sword rather than have her fingers sliced off.

Her back came up against a tree and his sword tip hung in front of her throat.

He didn't kill her though. He knew he should. His brain screamed at him that he should. He simply stood there, looking over the sharply gorgeous contours of her face and and curve of her body that still came through her thick leather armour. She stared back in stunned confusion, furrowing her brow and twitching her nose as she breathed in ragged breaths.

"RUN!" he said hoarsely pulling the sword away by a hands length to give her room, but still holding it forward.

She never broke those purple eyes away from his though. She never moved....until suddenly her boot shot upward and his hand vibrated like a bell as his sword was kicked out of his grasp. Her shoulder struck his chest and he stumbled backwards. Her fist connected with his windpipe and he fell on to his back wheezing in pain.

He writhed there too stunned to move for a moment, then suddenly she was on top of him. She grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head with one hand. Then he felt his own sword tip tickling the skin of his throbbing throat.

He looked up along the shaft of the sword to see her violet sparkling eyes running over his face, in a sort of intense curiosity. He finally put together that he should be dead, but for some reason she was hesitating too. Ready to gloat before the kill like the rest of them maybe, he wondered. He tried to pull away but she pressed the cold steel of the sword against the skin of his throat and he froze again.

"You killed Durrog," she muttered, panting in a breath that washed over his face and filled his nose with that confusingly enticing stench, growing so strong he should feel like it was putrid, but he only wanted to breath it in more and more.

"You defeated him on the battlefield..." she said, her face softening like she was admitting something to herself.

He felt the sword tip nick his throat ever so slightly as his adrenaline-powered breath mixed with hers. A small bead of blood trickled down his neck towards the ground. He felt like he had fallen off a cliff to his death but had got caught on a tree branch. One that could snap at any second.

"You loved him..." Roderick started to say, grasping at a play on empathy.