Voices Behind Walls Ch. 07

Lahri was civil, but she wouldn't call her behavior loving. She ate with the other women in the more common areas, with the walls open so they could be seen by the menfolk. She let everyone play with and fawn over baby Meia. She didn't dance, and she certainly didn't play the Peeking Game with anyone. She wore fake smiles and pretty layers in her sleeves. She braided her hair. She walked in the cage-like tunnel outside.

Vansoth never touched her.

She knew he wanted to. She could see the desire in his hands. His fingers often quirked and folded as if he was often restraining his feelings.

Even when they were together without any other adult, Vansoth wouldn't even touch her sleeves.

Their conversations were polite. Sometimes Lahri pretended to be amused by him, and she would laugh. Typically, she'd keep Meia around. And goodness, did Vansoth love that child! He'd touch her without any hesitation.

And as odd as it was, he'd often volunteer to change her undergarments after she had done what comes naturally. He'd ask to have the lower wall moved, and Lahri would do that for him. Then, he'd put Meia on a blanket on the women's side, and he'd carefully wash and prepare the child before pinning fresh cloth around her bottom.

Sometimes, he'd make a melodramatic scene, turning his head and complaining about the horrible smell, but then he'd grin and laugh, and he'd tell Meia that it was fine because everybody makes horrible smells. Meia would typically kick and giggle at him.

Meia liked to listen to the charms on his clothing. There were times when Vansoth would walk back and forth in his room, purposely letting his dangling jewelry ring out, while Meia watched and squealed.

Whenever she was close enough, Meia also liked to seize bits of Vansoth's hair, but that was fine. Vansoth would even offer a braid to her. That might have been an unwise thing to encourage a child to do, but he probably knew that and didn't give two figs about it.

During these moments, it was much easier for Lahri to forget that she was so uncertain about her life.

And she reminded herself that, considering he was a creature with a big nose and a horse bottom, Vansoth was rather handsome, at least in a fierce and intimidating way. For some odd reason, she imagined that he'd look fantastic with wild tattoos all over his body and face, like images of barbarian-like people she had seen in artwork. Those particular races had either died off or assimilated with the dominant cultures around them, leading to a lack of tattoos in the general area.

On an afternoon that was so cold that both Vansoth and Lahri had braziers near them in their private rooms, her husband said something rather interesting to her. She had started breastfeeding Meia when he said it.

"I was thinking that before the snow comes, you could ride on my back around the estate. The air will be good for your lungs and the scenery will be good for your eyes."

Lahri had known that this was a common pastime for women here, riding on the second backs of the men in their family. Quite a few of the women in this castle had settled onto a brother or husband in order to enjoy nature a bit more closely. Funny enough, she had never thought of doing that herself. Maybe it was because she still considered herself to be a foreigner, even after she had been married and her child had been adopted. And foreign women ... somehow ... didn't get to ride a centaur like a horse? She thought?

"I ... I could always go to the gardens," Lahri said as she looked down at Meia's pink cheeks.

"That's true, Pudding," Vansoth said as he reached out and patted Meia's head ... so close to Lahri's body!

Hmmm ... he hadn't called her Pudding in a while.

"But, I think you might like a ride on my back. The air will be cold, but I think it feels nice to have it rushing against one's face."

Lahri's eyes went down to Meia's relaxed little feet. They were safely kept under a dress of wool, but their shapes were visible. "My body isn't well trained for that activity. I could fall very easily."

"Have you ever ridden a horse before?"

"Yes, although I haven't done so in a long time."

"Then you'll be fine. I'll protect you, regardless."

She didn't want to upset him, after all, a divorce wouldn't be pleasant for her. It was best to keep her husband happy.

And so, Lahri nodded. "Alright. We could try tomorrow morning, after breakfast."

***

The shoes tied on her feet were not meant for walking in at all. They weren't even made of leather. They were of made of delicate cloth with tiny gemstone beads. As for the laces, well, they had pendants of gold hanging on the ends.

Securing her winter clothing, Lahri climbed from the women's side onto Vansoth's second back. There was a woman's side-saddle right there for her. Then, a sturdy belt was closed around both Vansoth's first waist and her womanly one, right over his cloak and under hers. It was apparently meant to help keep her from tipping over.

One of the aunts' voices was heard. "Never you mind, Princess Lahri! Meia will yearn for you, but I'll keep her entertained until you return!"

"Yes, of course," Lahri said as she looked at Vansoth's cloak. It was black with a white fur lining, and it was tightly wrapped and pinned against his upper body. Before mounting, she had the seen just enough of an opening in front for him to put an arm through, just in case.

He turned back to look at her. There wasn't any jewelry in his hair. Lahri wasn't wearing any jewelry either.

His eyes reminded her of Meia during her happier moments.

"Are you ready?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Alright, we're going. Hold onto the belt."

It wasn't quite like riding a horse. With a horse, one had to guide the creature using one's own muscles and other signals. Put Lahri wasn't driving this creature. Vansoth was driving himself. She was only meant to enjoy the ride.

She was taken out of the castle and into the bareness of the outdoors. Many trees could no longer hoard their leaves. The grass almost looked dead. The air stung her throat.

"Brace yourself, Pudding! We're going to rebel against the wind!"

"What? Oh!!"

Fast, so fast! Pounding hooves, a heavy pattern, the world bouncing and rolling by.

"Oh ... my ... you're running so quickly!!"

If his cloak wasn't so tight, she would have likely seen his arms at his sides. He was moving so well. This was his expertise, his life, running, forcing his way through nature, temporarily claiming the space.

"I'm going to jump!"

Lahri didn't want him to. "Don't! I'll fall off!"

He did it anyway, and Lahri thought she would die.

She shrieked.

Then she laughed as he landed and kept on running. She saw one of the protective walls. It seemed to move like a snake. She also saw centaur and dwarf guards patrolling around.

Another jump. Another bout of feminine laughter. She forgot there was anything cold.

So much fun!

Of course it had to end.

She was still laughing when Vansoth slowed down, though.

The cold returned. Her nose and cheeks were raw. That didn't matter. She was grinning.

Inside the keep, Vansoth was talking to her, discussing the possibility of snow, and how gray the sky was becoming. When the safety belt was removed, he helped her climb back into the women's quarters. Her feet met a solid support for the first time since before she had first mounted him. Those pretty shoes of hers were only for boasting purposes.

He opened his cloak.

He took her hands.

Lacing their fingers together ...

And he smiled down at her.

"The guards must be highly, highly envious of me, to have seen a joyful beauty laughing on my back."

Lahri shook her head. "Such ridiculous compliments are completely unnecessary."

"Is that so?" His cloak's hood fell back. His hair was messy. "I think I should compliment you once a day."

"But what of you? Shouldn't you be complimented?"

His nostrils pulsed. His mouth shrunk a moment, but he smiled again within a few seconds. "Oh, can you dig one out of your thoughts?"

"Well ... you ... hmmm ... " Lahri's fingers loosened a bit, but she was still firmly held. "You're very fast and strong. I'm happy to know that I was an ally on your back and not an enemy on the ground."

His breath rushed down to her face, right from his big nose. "I'm honored to be kept so sweetly in my wife's mind."

"I ... " Lahri tried to pull her hands away. When Vansoth felt her resistance, he slid his fingers away so she could put her arms at her sides. She tried not to shrug. "I should go to Meia."

"Ah, nothing can compete with a parent's warmth when you're an infant." He bowed as he started removing his cloak from himself. "Would you mind having some time with me tonight?"

She went down to her knees. "I ... I don't see why I shouldn't."

***

Meia was with her aunts again.

Lahri was alone and trying to bury her worries into her stomach, kneeling on a cushion and warming her hands over a brazier. That brazier wasn't the only source of light. There was a floor lamp in a corner and a candle on a small table. The darkness was still fairly strong, however.

She was wearing a simple gown with a neckline for nursing and an ordinary cloak. Her hair was in a braided and coiled topknot with no decorations. Her earlobes only had tiny studs of gold. Her face had no rouge. She knew she was plainer than she probably should have been, but she wasn't in the mood to dress up.

And ... if Vansoth ...

Loved her ...

Lahri swallowed some excess saliva.

If he loved her then a lack of finery wouldn't make her any less beautiful, or at least Lahri thought that should be so.

She remembered a time when his mouth was on hers, sending a hurricane-like wind through her senses. Even though the brazier was heating her body, she trembled.

Scraping, digging, thudding steps. A heavy exhale. Then a few mild knocks. "Lahri?"

"Ye ... Yes?"

"Are you feeling well?"

Probably not, but she told him, "I don't feel unwell."

"Excellent." He didn't sound concerned, but he didn't sound self-assured either. "Is there anything bothering your mind? Any fears? Any doubts?"

"Those sorts of things can never truly be defeated, can they?" One of Lahri's shoulders quirked under her cloak. "A person can't be a person without worry. Even the littlest ones have their sadness. Meia knows hunger, discomfort, and even anger. I feed and wash her, and I try to comfort her, but those problems will always return."

"This is true, Wife. Life has much suffering, but there is goodness, isn't there?"

"Yes ... this is very true." Gently, she was smiling down at the brazier. She thought of well crafted and delicious food, colorful and sweet flowers, Meia laughing at a silly face ... and ...

Riding a great beast's back outside.

And more graphic, adult things.

Kisses and moisture ...

Rocking on a mattress with a thickness slamming in and out of her body.

"Lahri, I know you've heard some folklore as you've lived here."

"Hm? Yes. I've heard some of that. I've also read some."

A light tapping, as if Vansoth was putting his fingertips against the wood. "Have you heard of the Wild Times?"

Lahri's eyebrows rose as she wondered why he sounded hopeful. Did he have a new story to tell her?

Her body was comfortably warm at this moment. She untied and shucked her cloak away. "It was centuries ago, wasn't it? The centaurs lived on land given to them by the dwarves. Where were they before that?"

"Actually, the Wild Times was before that. When they first lived with the dwarves, that was the Beginning Times."

Lahri put her hand to her nape and massaged the muscles there. "What was the Wild Times, then?"

"It was a time when the centaurs were nomadic, following the food and women. They were infamous for kidnapping women. And ... sadly ... that concept remains with many. Despite the illegality, some centaurs will kidnap a woman, but not necessarily to keep in their family. Often, they want to sell her to another family. Some dwarves do this too, all for the profit."

Lahri layered her hands over her lap. "I don't want to imagine being carried away by some strange creature."

"Ah. Well, I wanted to tell you a popular story set during the Wild Times. Many adults discuss its themes, but I highly recommend keeping all children away from the discussions."

"Is this story recognized as historical fact?" She was very, very curious about that.

"The story is believed to have been written down during the Beginning Times. It's fiction, although it could have been inspired by a few true events."

Her breasts were feeling a little sore. She had changed Meia's feeding schedule bit by bit. Still, Lahri grimaced as she realized that her body wanted to give milk. One of her palms moved up to a breast, over her clothing. "I don't see the harm in telling a story. Please give it with enthusiasm."

So, Lahri listened, keeping her breath quiet, lightly massaging her own bosom, careful not to squeeze any milk out. She was still tender.

"Long ago, there was a blue eyed centaur named Doran. His coat was white with brown spots, and his hair was like a floating cloud. He wanted a wife, and his parents wanted him to have a wife too. Sadly, all the women in the community were either married or too young. He needed to look to one of the human villages. He wasn't alone. A group of his friends joined him as they watched the village, plotting their theft."

This sounded like a horror story from the perspective of a villainous monster. Or at least it did in Lahri's mind.

"Each man picked out a favorite woman. Doran admired a farm girl named Bretta. He thought she was beautiful. Her figure was small but well accustomed to sunlight and labor. Her eyes were like drops of honey and her hair was smooth and black. Many people, even her own family members, would slap her face or beat her backside in public because she had often pointed out everybody's mistakes, including her own. She was often told to learn her place and be quiet. Doran didn't mind this flaw in her personality because she didn't seem to have any ill will. He actually loved that no matter how many blows she took Bretta would continue to say what she thought was true."

"In the night, the group of centaurs kept their hooves as quiet as possible, and they each crept around to find their favored women. Some guilt did twine around Doran's mind as he scooped Bretta up and rushed away from the residence, and when she woke up and screamed, he nearly dropped her. But he was tenacious, and he reminded himself of what he had seen as he watched the village."

Lahri's head slanted to one direction as she wondered about a kidnapper who felt bad about his crime. Would he repent and return the girl to her family? Lahri shrugged and straightened her head. Then she put on a mitten and picked up a metal poker. She removed the brazier's lid and started moving the glowing coals around as Vansoth spoke.

"Doran's family was pleased to have a new woman. Bretta wasn't pleased at all. She had left many bruises on Doran's face and scratch marks on his first torso. She insulted her new husband whenever possible. She tried to run away many times, but she was always captured by a man in Doran's family, or by Doran himself. These sort of problems were so common that everyone knew exactly how to deal with them."

"The one problem that truly bothered Doran, however, was how to convince his new wife to let him touch her. She would always scream and fight whenever he put a single fingernail near her. This constant vigilance ruined her nights. She didn't sleep well, not even when she was left alone."

"One of Doran's friends had a much easier time with his new wife. Within a few days, he had her riding his second back and lovingly touching his arms. Doran went to his friend and discreetly asked how he managed to accomplish such a feat. After all, both women were from the same village."

Vansoth stopped talking. Lahri put her poker away and replaced the brazier's lid. She turned her head to look up at the wall. "Well, aren't you going to tell me what the friend said?"

"Hmmm ... Are you curious, Lahri?"

She pressed on her tender breasts again. She sighed at the odd, painful pleasure of it. Her voice came out a little huskier than normal. "After you've told so much of this tale, how can I not be curious?"

"If you want to know what Doran learned, you'll have to open the wall."

Lahri stood up, and she turned to face the wall, looking at the still shadows. "What are you going to do?"

There was a tap, tap, tapping on the other side. "Your question will be answered if you open the wall."

Her lower lip pushed out. Her nipples tingled.

She reached down to pull the lower wall aside. Then the upper one.

Oh.

Vansoth was naked.

His hair was tied back, but he was naked.

The shadows made him look even more intimidating than normal, and for a second Lahri's instincts quivered through her extremities, screaming over and over into her nerves the word danger.

A beast in the darkness.

She thought there might be a smirk on his face, but it could have been her imagination.

"Husband?"

His breath was coarse. It made her blink uncomfortably.

His hands were on her waist so fast that she couldn't even yell. Her leather shoes left the protected floor. Lahri tried to pull on his hands, but she couldn't do much.

Then bouncing, she was being carried off!

She thought she should scream, but all she could manage was a wobbly mewl. Her heavy breasts were painfully jostling. Her legs were kicking.

Lahri was dropped right onto a mattress. It felt familiar. She tried catching her breath as she sat up and looked around. There were a few lamps around, including a brazier on a tall stand for warmth, so she could easily see that this was the men's area. To be specific, this was Vansoth's quarters. She was on that tall table that made lovemaking with centaurs so much easier.

Vansoth was in front of her, and very unceremoniously, he shoved his hands right under her gown's skirt and chemise.

"Wai ... wait!" Even in this crazed moment, Lahri couldn't bring herself to kick him, but her fingers did cling to the mattress.

She was pulled down. She ended up scratching the bedding.

Her skirts fell down past her navel.

She wasn't pulled down anymore, not quite. Her lower body was pulled up. One of his hands was on her backside. The other was on one of her legs.

The air was so cold.

But then ... heat. Wet heat. Licking and kissing down a thigh and to ...

To ...

Lahri's eyes rolled so far back that they hurt.

He kissed her labia, then pinched them with his lips. It was new and odd to her brain, having what was possibly the most sacred part of her placed in such a dangerous position and then lovingly caressed. But when it changed, when he covered most of her opening with his large tongue, Lahri spat, coughed, and trembled.

"Ah ... ahk! Haaaaaaaa ... Van ... Vansoth!"

This man was humming and licking into her as if he was tasting a life giving food, a rejuvenating meal. It burned. It pulsed. It had her feet curling.

The clitoris!

He was there, kissing her right on that little nubbin, and they weren't simple kisses. They were deep with tongue and suckling.

Lahri was blind.

Her throat stretched and ached, but she didn't hear her own hollering. The madness in her head was too loud and fuzzy.

She tried to flop away, but Vansoth held her tightly, keeping her right at his ravenous mouth. The muscles between her thighs flexed and fluttered under the pressure.

It was so good, too good. She would have told him just how good it was, but words weren't possible.