Terrible Company Ch. 12

Katsa, on the far side of the campsite, looked up from her work. "Did y—"

"I win!" Ivy shouted, throwing her arms up into the air.

The Arcanist took a deep breath and shook her head while Val tried in vain to refrain from laughter. "Did you get it?"

Mathilda pulled a small, stoppered jar from her pocket and tossed it casually. The Blonde shrieked as she tried to get her flailing, uncoordinated hands under the arcing glass, and shrieked again when it bounced off of her finger. The vial landed harmlessly in the dirt, rolling only a slight distance before Katsa scrabbled over to it and scooped it up with a grumble.

Mathilda set down her load, opened up her pack, and knelt down next to it for several minutes removing and reinserting different bottles. Ivy lovingly tended to the pot boiling over the fire. When Ayen sat down next to her with Ivy's book in his hands, Val nodded and returned to her work. It was quiet. Peaceful. Ivy ladled out the stew, and it was good. They'd completed a job with minimal hazard, and were going to get paid. For a little while, Val almost forgot who she was with.

Her time with ShieldArm had been, in retrospect, idyllic. Sure, it had been fraught with danger. Sure, there had been torrid romances between the group members that threatened the very fabric of their friendships, and by association, their unity and cohesiveness. Sure, they'd had bad luck, but the worst luck they'd ever had paled in comparison to a typical day with Terrible Company. Sometimes she felt like she'd been spoiled. She'd had it so good the first time around. How could anything measure up to her time with the most storied group of adventurers in history?

Even as she sat there, drunk on fading glory, it wasn't hard to admit that she was happier now. She couldn't explain why, but she knew it for truth. Perhaps it was the challenge. Perhaps it was the banter. Perhaps it was the Blonde. She couldn't say. She nodded when Mathilda handed her a bottle, and savored the way it chased the rabbit in the stew. She and Ayen shared one while the Dwarf and the Blonde shared another. Ivy, as President, was entitled to a bottle all to herself.

"So," Val said, leaning in a little closer to Ayen but pitching her voice where everyone could hear. "Whaddya think, 'Captain'?" She punctuated her question with a gentle, nudging elbow.

Ayen slowly looked up from the manuscript, though he kept his eyes on the dirt around them. "Well I'm not quite done yet," he said neutrally. "But so far it's very... imaginative."

Ivy beamed.

"Oh come, 'Captain'. You must have some thoughts."

"Why do you keep calling him that?" Ivy asked.

"I mean, come on." Val looked at Mathilda for support, but the Dwarf was playing it cool behind a bottle. "He's Captain Longcock."

"No, silly," Ivy laughed. "The Captain is a fictional character. I made him up."

"Sweetie, we're all in your book."

"I promise," Ivy said, holding her palms up to the sky. "I was guided by the muse."

"The curiously-short First Mate Minnie Thunderbottom?"

"Fer wot i's werth," Mathilda said, "Ah approve o' tha'."

"I'm clearly Galstaff," she said, pointing between her thighs.

"It's pronounced Gaul-staff."

Mathilda burst into giggles, and immediately started waving her hands wildly as if to fend off any implication that she found anything anyone was saying to be humorous.

"And the coxswain over there—"

"I don't want to know," Katsa said, without looking up.

"Ooooooooh!" Val laughed. "No no! Kat! Wait til—"

"Seriously. I don't care."

"You're gonna love it!"

"I don't know," Ayen said distantly, as his eyes pored over the last page. "I mean, I think she should wait to see it until you have a chance to resolve a few more of these loose plot threads."

"Oh?" Ivy said, genuinely pleased with the prospect of some critical feedback.

"Well the real heart of this thing is the slow-building romance between you and Longcock."

Ivy smiled and shook her head. "I'm not—"

"Right," he laughed. "Sorry. Between Longcock and Majora Willowbreast."

"Maj..." Katsa bit down on her tongue and shook her head vigorously. "Nevermind."

"At first glance," Ayen continued, "it seems like you have no interest in Longcock."

"Not me," Ivy corrected patiently. "Majora. And no. She doesn't."

"Sure. But he keeps coming back and she keeps letting him in."

"Well she's a prisoner on his ship," Ivy said. "She can't really lock him out."

"No, but she doesn't want to either!"

"She doesn't?"

"No," Ayen said hungrily. "What I'm getting from this is that you-uh-she wants him to conquer her. She wants him to bring her unrivaled pleasure over and over."

"Too much," Mathilda said, shaking her head.

"Look. It's really Longcock's own fault for failing like he does. He's clearly making missteps along the way, but have you given any thought to what it is that he could be doing right to win her over?"

"What do you mean?"

Ayen flipped back a few pages and ran his tongue from left to right between his lips. "Ok. Here in Chapter 2, when Galstaff is trying, and she's squeezing Willowbreast's nipples—"

"Uh huh," Ivy said, nodding.

"—and you said that it was 'too rough'... What is the right amount? I mean, are your nipples overly sensitive? Should I be very tender with them?"

Ivy squinted as she thought. Beyond her, Katsa looked like she was on the verge of going nova until Mathilda leaned over and whispered in her ear. Val laughed and shook her head.

"How about pinching and rolling clockwise versus counterclockwise? Do you notice a difference?"

"Whaddya thin'?" Mathilda murmured, and Katsa nodded vigorously. " 'ead on down. I'll be righ' behind." The Arcanist quietly unfolded her legs and stalked off toward the brook. Mathilda waited for a moment, watching after her with a smile.

"What about spooning afterwards?" Ayen asked. "Are you pro? If so, what's the right amount?"

"Lass," Mathilda said, interrupting. Ivy turned. "Ah'm abou' to drive Katsa ou' of 'er mind. Would'ye like to observe an' take notes? Fer yer book?"

"I'd love to!" Ivy squealed.

Mathilda sneered at Ayen as she waited for the Bard to stand. "Alrigh'. Now, she won' be too pleased ta have an audience, bu' hang back fer a minute, follow my lead, and she won' care once Ah got my 'ands on'er. Or in'er."

"Bold," Ayen whispered, as the other two stepped through into the bushes. "I did not expect that."

Val chuckled as she turned her attention to her blade and started sharpening again. The smooth grind of the whetstone and the clear ring of the well-tempered steel gave a calming tingle that flowed across her scalp and down the back of her neck. "That was a good try," she said with a smile.

"I'll get there," he said confidently, as he looked back down at the pages. "It's all here, whether she knows it or not."

"If what's in those pages can be trusted, what she wants is for you to literally just take her by the hair and fuck her regardless of what she says."

"I'm sure that's what it looks like to the untrained eye," he said, smirking through her raucous laughter, "but there's a less rape-y solution here too."

"And let's be honest. You couldn't overpower her if you tried."

"What?"

"She has two inches and forty lbs on you."

"First of all, only a complete amateur would need to resort to force. Where's the challenge in that?"

"I think my point is that it's too much of a challenge and that's why you're avoiding it."

"Second of all," he continued, glaring at her out of the corner of his eye, "do I need to remind you that rape is wrong? How would you like it if I just came over there and forced my way inside of you."

Val stared at him flatly, but could only keep a straight face as long as he could. Once his expression broke, the two of them descended into crying laughter.

"Yeah," he said, voice high-pitched as he wiped a tear from his eye. "Brute force is not my forte."

"I mean, do you even know how to use those daggers you carry?"

"Not even a little," he laughed.

"Every time you draw them, I'm afraid you're going to break your wrist if you actually connect."

"I... I... I probably would." He shook his head, wiping at his eye again, and drank the last of the bottle Mathilda had given them. "Promise you won't tell?"

"I promise."

"I have a reputation to uphold."

"Oh sure," Val said, nodding facetiously. "Can't have it getting around that yer soft."

"I'd be ruined."

"You know, you never did get around to telling me who it is you have good standing with."

Ayen looked over at her quizzically.

"You know... when we were in... oh Gods, what was that town called. Gahlston?"

"Uhhhh," he said, squinting.

"Right after we fucked in that tavern."

"I definitely remember the sex," he said, chuckling.

"Yeah, remember? After? You dragged me back there to loiter on his property and vandalize his window?"

Ayen made a noise in his throat, with his brow furrowed and lips pressed together tightly. "I..."

"And you were pretending to be drunk."

"What?!" Ayen cried. "How did you know?"

"AHA!" Val pumped a fist triumphantly. "I didn't until just now."

"Fuck!"

"I knew I was drinking too frequently!"

Ayen grinned, somewhere between sheepish and quite pleased with himself, and nodded.

"Does that mean I went toe-to-toe with Tilly in a drinking game?"

"If she has as much to drink as you can stand before you even start? Sure!"

Val nodded as she leaned back into the tipped-over tree trunk behind them. She took great pleasure in watching him stand up, in his walk and the way he bent over Mathilda's pack. He came back with a bottle in each hand and a smile.

"Can I ask you something?" He handed her the clear bottle with the green fluid inside.

"Sure."

"You said you were going to let him 'be your first'."

Val nodded as she took a swig.

"So you've never, like, had someone else..."

He trailed off and resorted to crude hand gestures, and Val laughed. She could feel her cheeks coloring slightly as she licked her lips. "Katsa uses a couple fingers every, uh.... Every... sometimes."

"But that's it?"

"That's it," she said with a gasp, as she pulled the bottle from her lips.

"Do you ever think about it?"

"Well," Val said, sitting up a little straighter. "Well, well, well."

"What?"

"Look at you."

"What!" Ayen repeated, higher, recoiling ever so slightly.

"I don't know. I just... had you pegged as a catcher."

"Yeah, well... I had you pegged as a pitcher."

Val nodded and stared off into the twilight. "I think that I'd probably have had a much different experience if I'd grown up around other Orcs. I'm not actually that big, relatively speaking." She took another swig. "In fact, I've never met another Orc smaller than me."

"But you're huge!" Ayen gasped.

"I never get tired of that reaction." Val shifted, adjusting her legs to accommodate the restrictiveness of her pants.

"But do you though? Think about it?"

Val nodded slowly, taking another long sip from the half-empty bottle.

"I'm something of a switch myself, but I've never been on the receiving end with another lover so much as I am with you."

"Is that what we are?" Val said, smirking. "Lovers?"

"Fuckbuddies is such a tactless word."

"I don't know," the big Orc said. "Sounds closer to the truth to me."

"Maybe that's because you've spent too much time fucking and not enough time loving it."

Val pursed her lips and chuckled through a slow breath. The way he kept his gaze steady and even, on her, was distracting. She wanted to laugh off the attention. It was easier to laugh off and keep things strictly physical.

"How did it feel with a couple fingers?"

"...Good," she said, shifting her legs again as her shaft reached a problematic level of stiffness.

Ayen reached over and tugged playfully at the drawstring of her breeches. Had she been less drunk, she would have acted on the urge to grab his wrist and pull him onto her lap. To take control and own the moment. Own the action. Passiveness was a trait that had never served her well in battle. She knew, even as she watched the loops of the knot in her waistcord coming apart, that that was normally the moment where she took over. Any second, she was going to stop him and assert herself, but that's the thing about alcohol; it only gives you the courage to do the things you wanted to do anyway but won't or can't for whatever reason.

Passiveness had not been of much use growing up either. When she'd been very young, and the size difference between her and the other Human children in her village had been small, she'd had many friends, but those numbers dwindled over time. Especially once puberty hit. She'd waited patiently, like her mother and father had thought, for some of the boys to notice how pretty she was.

But the boys had been intimidated by her size. Increasingly so, as time went on. The girls in her village remained friends with her somewhat longer, usually until they were paired off with a boy. They all reached a certain age where the expectation was for them to be courted, and that the courting was expected to lead to marriage, and the marriage would lead to them taking over some or all of one of their parents' farms. Once they'd been paired off, the girls often found less and less time to play. A few admitted that their suitors hadn't wanted them spending time with her, but most just were perpetually 'busy'.

Her last friend in the village had come to her, crying, in the middle of the night. Orra had been a quiet mouse of a girl. Funny, but shy. Her parents had arranged a marriage for her, fearing that she would never find a husband of her own, and had forbidden her from seeing Val. It was Orra who kissed her first. It was Orra who tearfully admitted to being so confusingly turned on by Val. It was Orra who confessed to finding Val's physique so attractive, so desirable, as to consider defying family and tradition.

It was Orra who had begged Val to penetrate her. To bend her over and fuck her senseless. To take her like a man would. And Val did. She got a taste of something that would occupy much of her adult life and she wanted more, but the following morning, at dawn, Orra went back to her family. Val left town shortly after, quietly, determined to make things happen for herself, but a part of her had always held out hope for that moment when a man would look her in the eye and want her for her.

She knew Ayen's motives were not so pure as that. Yes, he wanted her, and yes, he was clearly attracted to her, but she knew Ayen's attention was fleeting at best. And yet, as he loosened her breeches almost completely... and reached inside of her pants and touched her... Val wanted it too. She groaned as he took her shaft firmly in hand. She shivered when his nimble fingertips found her opening wet, already wanting for him.

He didn't say anything as he turned onto his knees beside her. The hardening ridges in her shaft rippled beneath the skin. One hand continued working up and down, pumping slowly, while the the index finger of the other probed her slick channel. Simultaneously testing her and arousing her. Val watched each knuckle slip inside of her with wonder and amazement.

"Are you ready for another finger?"

Val nodded. The feel of his two fingers, thicker somewhat than Katsa's, made her shudder even as they were just beginning to push down. The sensation on its own was stunning. Jaw dropping. Ayen smiled as he explored; slowly and with great deliberation. Pushing all the way down to the webbing and then pulling out. It was always surreal to watch her shaft be penetrated after so many years of only being the penetrator. Val gasped as she was stretched, feeling the strain a little less every time. Even though she kind of liked the strain.

"I don't," Val stammered. "I... I don't know what to do with my hands."

He smiled, nodding. "You can touch yourself if you'd like. I'm just taking my time here. Don't want to go too fast."

Val took a few deep breaths. Her skin felt flushed. Radiating, and radiant. She shifted forward, sitting up more straight, and reached around herself.

"You get that side," he said. Val twisted to her right to loosen the fasteners on her side, and gave a sigh of relief when she felt the two on her left come free. Together, they lifted the molded leather chestpiece over her head, and Val quickly pulled the hooded undershirt off by herself. Her tousled black hair wasn't long enough to reach past her brow and, though she could feel that it was out of place, her concern for it was distant and fleeting. Especially fleeting when she realized how hard and sensitive her nipples were.

He ran a few fingers back through his hair, collecting behind his ear what had otherwise been covering his cheek. He was pretty. Val liked that he was pretty. Part of her thought that was making it easier for her to accept him. If he had been taller, or more rugged, she would have needed him to overpower her, but like he was there was no threat. Instead, she could just relax and enjoy the feel of his fingers and the increasingly-fun-to-look-at bulge running down his pant leg.

Val bit down on her lip as she leaned back against the tree. Her fingertips rolled the tips of her dark green areolae back and forth, squeezing them gently between the pads. Her nipples were more sensitive than she liked to let on. Only Katsa, of all the women in her life, had discovered that fact. Others before the Arcanist had assumed a more common level of responsiveness, but Val was fairly certain that if she simply played with her breasts long enough, she could achieve an orgasm.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Val nodded, panting slightly.

He stood up, stripping off his clothes as he continued. "I'm not sure what angle Orcs use to make this work, but I think if you stay there, just like that, I can... " He yanked off his boots and tossed them to the side, and Val gave a soft gasp as he pulled down his pants. She'd known Ayen was long. She had been pretty sure that he was longer than she was, and now she knew for sure. Her shaft was, of course, much thicker, and her right hand immediately drifted down to stroke herself.

He planted his right knee beside her hip, and stepped over her middle. Left foot planted on the ground, so that he was sort of straddling her. Her clit, at the tip of her shaft, nearly reached up to his balls. Val found herself staring them, focused on them, as she stroked herself a little more. Ayen's body was slim, and not altogether different from Katsa's except for their genitals. Though his cock, hard and reddened from blood flow, would soon be the main attraction, Val took a moment to appreciate the magnificent shape of his balls. Swollen sacs of flesh, hairless and smooth. Not unlike a miniature pair of breasts.

He braced himself on her shoulder while he stroked himself with his left hand. His tongue ran back and forth over his lips as he drew back his hips. Val pushed down on her shaft as well, aiming it toward him to help align them. Her hand slid up around the tip, and she pinched at her shaft slightly to widen the gape. Her stomach did somersaults as she stared at them tip to tip. There was no way he was going to fit inside of her. His cockhead was not that much narrower than her shaft.

The unspoken fear that she wouldn't be big enough to fit him turned her on just that much more.

"There we go," he crooned, as he guided his head into her opening. Working the tip in shallow circles to smear her overflowing fluid. She had always taken it for granted that she could generate so much fluid, enough to ejaculate if she squeezed just right, and only right then realized she was going to need every drop of it. "There we go. There weeee-heee-heeee..."