Requited at Last

"It's time we found camp, Kitten." Gogh could see Vara's shoulder had long since been slumping. She was stumbling, which was unusual for the agile elf. "You are going to fall over."

Vara wanted to argue. The noble-elf pride in her tried to force her to argue, but she couldn't work up the heat for it. She was tired, her legs were shaking, and the last fifty steps had been hell. She had dragged herself as far as her body would let her. She had reached the end of the line. Vara gave a slow nod, and wished suddenly that she hadn't. The headache that had pounded behind her ears after the chasm ordeal had left her feeling drained.

She wanted nothing more than to stop and rest, and yet she fought it. She fought it because she knew the moment that they stopped her and Gogh would begin talking. They would start talking about what happened. Vara very much did not want to talk to him. She had given into at a moment's weakness. She had decided a long time ago that there could never be anything between her and Gogh. They had kissed once many months ago.

It had been Yule. Seven months before. It seemed like forever ago. They had been caught up in the Northlands; the ground had been covered in several feet of snow. Everyone had gone off to bed in the inn where they'd been staying. Everyone that is, excepting Gogh and Vara. They had sat in front of the fire for a long time. They had been talking. Just talking. Then, as they were walking to bed, he had noted that all night they'd been sitting beneath a bit of mistletoe. She'd smirked and intended on giving him a kiss upon the cheek. But no, he'd been Gogh; he'd grabbed her and given her a firm kiss.

A kiss that had haunted her for a very long time after that. She had expected to be disgusted by such possessive roughness. It had not happened that way. It was like some dark part of her had woken to that kiss and relished in it.

She had worked very hard to forget that feeling. To lock it away and pretend like it never happened. They had both agreed that it was a bad idea to get involved. A terrible idea.

The incident upon the bridge had broken open that carefully crafted lie. She had clung to him, and he to her in a way that was far more than mere friendship. They had both known it.

"There's a hall up here...It might lead to a place where we can spend the evening." Gogh said leading on. He wasn't even humming. It was almost like he was being very careful not to make to much sound. Like he would frighten her off. It was probably very close to the truth. She didn't see the hallway he mentioned at first, and then it came into view; some trick of stonework had hidden it from the eye until they were very nearly upon it. It was a small hall, small enough that they no longer walked side by side.

"Alright." Vara said hugging herself. It was colder where they were now. But she could see a room off to the side now.

The small hallways bloomed into a massive circular room. It took only glance from the word 'temple' to enter the mind. Pillars had been carved directly into the stone walls. Each statue was decorated with a carved picture etched along its surface. They seemed to form a story. The first picture was of a woman in childbirth. The woman had a dragon on one side of her, and a human on the other. She herself seemed to be a mix of the two.

The next pillar was carved with a picture of the woman holding three children in her arms. Once again the female seemed to have given birth to a dragon, a human, and a Draconum. The next few pictures showed her doing the things that women did when they had children, breast feeding them, rocking them. In all three the children were somewhere around her. The same man and dragon from the first picture were always nearby. The last pillar had all six figures curled up and sleeping. Brinia would have loved the room.

At the very far end of the room a stark white statue had been placed atop a pitch black dais. Both colors of stone were so different from anything else the group had come across it was obvious that they had been imported from somewhere else. The statue was of the woman. It was ten feet tall. She had the look of a human at first until you noticed the massive rough horns perched atop her head. She had daintily clawed feet. Several of her clawed toes had broken off, either from lack of care or age. Possibly a mix of both. She had flowing hair that fell nearly to her knees. She had a wide hipped and full breasted build, like some tribal goddess of fertility. Her face was beautiful, soft smooth features and a full ripe mouth that curled into a delicate smile.

Curled up around her were the three children from the pillars. You could see them better now. The dragon child had tiny underdeveloped wings, and the smallest little horns poking out of the top of his head. The young Draconum was shaped almost exactly like the female figure, simply in male form. The human was a plump almost cherubic child with curling hair. All seemed to be male.

Surrounding the circular dais was a pool. Despite the fact that it was stagnant water the pool itself was crystal clear.

"A sacred pool to a Goddess." Gogh said plopping down to one side of it.

Vara motioned to one of the pillars. "A baptismal pool." She said pointing towards one of the pillars that showed the three sons being baptized in a pool very similar to this one. "She was probably a goddess of childbirth motherhood..."

Gogh nodded, grunting as he began to wash his face and hair in the pool.

"Gogh! Have some respect. This is a sacred place."

He looked up at her blandly, "Excuse me, Princess. But in case you failed to notice this is a blessed pool. I doubt a little blood and sweat is going to offend a goddess of children. She's probably seen her share of sweat and scraped knees."

Vara couldn't argue with his point, but she could bring up something else. "You haven't called me princess in a very long time."

Gogh grunted once more. "I call it like I see it. You've been walking with your nose in the air. Saying as little to me as possible. Acting jut like some highborn elf." He looked up at her from where he knelt. Water was making a wild pattern down his neck as he pulled off his fur and leather cuirass. Vara wished he wouldn't. It was very difficult to argue with someone you were obviously ogling. Not that Gogh wasn't work a look.

He was so massively built. Orcs usually are. He had a wide shoulders, and a chest that boarded on being to muscular. Hi stomach and hips tapered down, all of it seemed to be made of lines and definition. His skin wasn't just green; it was the color of healthy moss. Except of course where he was scared, those were several shades darker. On some people scars took away from their attractiveness, but on Gogh...on him they were beautiful. He had a massive slash across his neck from an axe that had dug deep enough to ship his collar bone. Another decorated his hip....others made a pattern across his shoulders and back. He, like all orcs, had tattoos. His family symbol was stretched across his back, a wolf risen up, howling at a tribal knot work moon. His own symbol curled across the upper part of his chest, a runic mark of strength and honor that wound its war like a wave around her nipple.

He stood slowly. Vara felt her breath catch as she watched the play of muscle beneath his flesh. She knew her eyes darkened with feminine appreciation. She couldn't stop it.

"Now, that is a look worthy of any orc, Princess." His tone had dropped o a deep rumbling purr.

Vara shook her head and lifted her eyes deliberately to his face. Not that this helped her in anyway. Gogh would never be thought beautiful by any race. He was, however, striking. His cheekbones were carved high upon his face. He had a delicately sloped nose that flared wide at the nostrils, and soft lips. But it was his eyes that really caught ones attention. They were shaped like almonds, and save for the surrounding white there was no color differentiation between the pupil and the iris. It was perfectly, pitch black. Right now those eyes were trained on her, and filled with black fire.

It was very much the look a man gave a woman when he realized that they were alone, and that there was interest.

"Why do you deny me, Princess?" He took a step forward. Pride alone held her in place when she very much wanted to flee. "I can smell your desire...like honeysuckle on a summer night." He made the sentence deliberately crude. If he had gone for something more elegant, coyer...more elfish It would have reminded her how much he wasn't one of her own kind. But he reminded her of what he was.

She shook her head, "You fool yourself, Gogh." She said stubbornly.

"I am not the fool here. You have never given me a good reason why I would make an unworthy mate."

"Have you looked in a mirror lately, Gogh of the Kogoth?"

"Well now, no one ever said I was pretty." He chuckled. The sound was not light; the sound was like black velvet rippling over water. Vara wanted to wrap herself in it.

"That isn't what I mean, Gogh."

"Oh? I assume you mean the fact that I'm so...large."

That brought a flush to her cheeks. "Now you are just being crude."

"You are right, Princess. I am. I'm being very crude. You see me as nothing but an Orc. No matter what I may be, no matter where I am, or what soil my feet put themselves on. I am an Orc. I am a proud one. You I think wish you could be more like me. I think you want to let go. To give in to all that it means to be an impassioned people. I think you grew so tired of the games and folly of the elfish people that an orc like me looks pretty damn good. Someone wild...free. No, if you are using our different races as an excuse...it's a poor one." He surged forward suddenly, gripping her shoulders, "You CARE for me, Vara I know it."

She looked up at him, her teal hair a shinning halo around her face. "Is this Orcish seduction then?" She asked, deliberately baiting him.

"No, Princess, this is."

He hauled her up against his broad flat chest, crushing her delicate curves against him so hard the air whooshed from her lungs. His mouth descended on hers; hard enough to surprise a gasp form her. He took the sound as invitation and tilted his head, deepening the kiss. His tongue snaked into her mouth, flicking possessively against hers, the move was so expertly done, so wild and glorious, she moaned with need.

She felt him lift her, his hands cupping her taut buttocks. Her legs wrapped around his hips, her ankles linked at his back. The kiss became frenzied as her fingers trailed across that family tattoo, dancing their way upwards to sink into his locks of thick black hair. She felt the wetness from the water sink into the small scabs at the tip of her fingers; the delicate pain brought her back to herself for a moment.

"Gogh..." She whimpered pulling back, her breath coming in deep uneven gasps. "I don't know...I don't know if I can do this."

"Why, kitten?" He asked gently, "What good reason do you really have for denying what we both know is there?"

"The Duke..." She whispered softly, looking down.

Vara had left her home a little over a year ago, fleeing from an arranged marriage to a particularly sadistic Duke. Duke Travian was called the Black Hearted for one reason. He was as dark as they came. He had three wives before her, each of them having died mysteriously, all except the last that had killed herself in a very public way. But the Duke had her father's ear, and she had been given to him next. The Duke wasn't just a cruel man; he was also the leader of half of the army of the Honithian Kingdom of Elves. He was a battle master in his own regard. She had left before the wedding party.

Gogh felt his eyes widen in response. "Vara, if you declare yourself mine. If we take one another as Mate then not only can I keep the Duke from you, but you will have the name of my Line, we will keep you safe." "Gogh, I do not want to ask that of you. If the Duke finds out..."

"The Duke is a vicious man, Vara. It would kill me if I didn't protect you." Gogh pressed his forehead to Vara's.

"I don't want you to die for me." She whispered, "I do not know if I could handle that."

"Vara, I would die for you anyway..."

Vara looked at him, really looked at him. She knew it was true. She'd been keeping it from herself, but she knew how very true what he was saying was. Even if she didn't declare him Mate. Even if she didn't take him as a husband by Orcish tradition. He would still fight for her. He would still d whatever he could to keep her safe. "Oh Gogh, I'm sorry...so sorry."

He placed a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "Don't say you are sorry kitten. Say you'll be mine."

"Yes, Gogh....yes. I'll be yours."

His mouth found hers once again. This time it was soft. It was a delicate caress of the lips. It was her this time that deepened it. She gave into the hungry taste of him and reveled in the warmth of his mouth. He pulled away, looking down into her smoky violet eyes.

"Let me show you what it means to belong to the clan of Kogoth." He whispered in her ear.

She felt a shiver in her spine as he laid her down. His mouth was on hers before she could breath. He kissed her like he would devour her from the mouth down. He loomed over her, making her feel dainty and doll like. She ran her fingers down his broad green chest, taking time to trace his scars. She felt a dark delight fill her as her fingers traveled over that textured flesh. Elves rarely scarred. It took a very powerful spell or special enchanted weapons. Scares were considered taboo, but on Gogh they were beautiful. They were a mark of strength and survival. She drew her hands down his chest till she got to his breeches. It was here that she paused so she could amuse herself by running her fingers across the brim of his pants. She knew he was hard. She knew he was hard enough to stretch the leather of his pants. He wanted to be touched. Elves were masters of foreplay and she would not give into his ferocity that easy no matter how desperately her desire rode her.

She pulled her mouth from his and kissed her way across the warm flesh of his neck. She was very gentle. Her lips were like a butterfly moving over his skin. Her tongue darted out when she found his pulse; unsteady but strong. She loved the feel of it, jumping against her lips, knowing the effect she was having on him. She continued on down the plane of his neck, into the broadness of his shoulder. She kept the movement feather light.

"You are tempting me, Kitten."

Her response was a gentle purr that made him strain against his leather pants even more. She continued her train of light kisses squirming her way beneath him so she could trail her tongue across that spiral tattoo that surrounded one nipple. Her mouth closed suddenly over that circle of even darker green. The movement eliciting a sharp gasp from him as the sensitive skin tightened against her delicate tongue.

Her fingers began to draw lightly down his broad muscular back. The sensation tickled down his spine more than scratched. The teasing made Gogh's breaths come shallow and quick. He was used to women taking, or being taken. There was little foreplay where orc lust was concerned. It was wonderful, however, that she seemed to enjoy him as he was. Elf men were lithe pretty creatures, hairless and almost delicate. Gogh was none of these. He had been secretly worried that Vara would be disgusted by the broadness of him, the muscular form, the dark patches of hair upon his chest and belly. But even as he worried of this she nuzzled them.

"Soft..." She whispered almost in surprise, "Like a puppy."

Gogh chuckled. "Woof."

She chose just this moment to slide her tongue further down. He was hard enough that the length of him had pushed his pants up just enough that the tip of his shaft was visible through the little arc of cloth. Her thumb slipped inside the fabric, swirling the smooth flat surface of that fingers across the tip of him, simultaneously closing her mouth over the utterly masculine line of one hip. He bucked suddenly as she swirled her thumb and sucked hard, leaving a mark behind when he pushed her back.

"You are playing a dangerous game, Kitten." Gogh growled his voice going low and strangled. "My patience is not unending."

A dark part of Vara wanted to break him. To draw out that wild beast she'd seen in battle. She wanted him to loose control. She dropped down still further, till she could see him, pressed hard and firm against the leather of his breeches. That sight made her want to pull down the pants so that she could see him in all of his barbaric glory. She restrained herself. She was going to draw this out until he jumped her. She breathed out, purposefully hard. The heat of her breath caressed him through the fabric. She opened her lips wide, and took the tip of him into her mouth, suckling her through the leather. Her tongue drew a long wide circle.

"GAH!" He growled out hauling her up suddenly. He glared sown at her with those dark eyes. For a moment she worried she had done something wrong. Then, as if by magic, a slow smile spread across his lips. "Teasing wench....it's your turn, Princess."

He tore the bodice firm her body like it was paper. She had barely a moment to mourn the garment before he descended upon her breasts with wild sort of fervor. He lipped at those pink buds. She was not endowed as human women were, but among elves she was considered quite curvy. He lipped at them pulling them into his mouth and swirling his tongue like he would draw milk from them. He dipped his mouth lower; licking the swollen underside of her breast drew a line with his tongue between her breasts and did the same to the other nipple. He went back and forth until she whimpered, arching her back pushing those mounds into his face. Her fingers tangled in his still wet hair while she whimpered. "Gogh! Please!"

He chuckled; hauling her up till his face was planted between her legs. Her breeches were still on, so he could only do so much. What she did not expect for him to do was sniff at her womanhood like a beast. She squealed trying to squirm away, but he held her firmly.

"Gogh! Don't do that!

He seemed to come back to himself for a moment, tilting his head in confusion, and peering up at her from between her legs. "Why not, Princess?" He asked, obviously confused.

She felt a deep flush crawl its way to her cheeks. How does one explain utter embarrassment? She looked away and struggled to say, "The....smell." She explained lamely.

He chuckled there, against her most private of places. It was a deep rumbling laugh...a most masculine sound that made her squirm for completely different reasons. "Yes, Vara...your scent. A woman's flower." Then an idea struck him, "Are you ashamed?"

"I..." She started wondering once more how she would explain this sort of embarrassment to him. Of course she was ashamed. Any civilized female would be. It was a perverse place, and no one of normal inclinations would go around just sniffing one another crotches.

"You are!" He rolled onto his back and laughed a full bellied laugh. "Is this what it means to be an elf?" To be ashamed of something you all have? Well half of you at the very least. Are the men afraid of their cocks as well?"

"Of course not! That's ridiculous."

He rolled unto one side, looking at her evenly, "Any more ridiculous that being embarrassed by the scent of your pussy?"

Now that's just being lewd." Vara stated in her most Princess like tone.

"No, Princess." He said firmly, "This is lewd." He fisted his hands in her pants and tore them down her body till they bunched round the tops of her boots. He couldn't get them completely off, but he did not care. She was smooth, as all elf-folk are. He drew a thick green finger across her creamy satin flesh.