The sun rose, bathing all under it, with its golden rays. Even the dull drab rocky terrain, covered by the morning dew, reflected the rising sun’s rays from its lambent surface. Suddenly, the desolate landscape became breathtaking, but Lyria outshone them all. Despite marching through the night, signs of fatigued failed to show on her pristine countenance. Even Theko with his endless reserve of stamina staggered behind at some point. Eventually, Lyria’s eyes filled with concern as she considered me for one long moment and suggested that we rest for a while.
My body betrayed what my heart wanted to hide. A tender expression settled on Lyria as she asked, “Rils, does it hurt?”
I gave a wry laugh and shrugged, “Nothing that I haven’t experienced before.”
“It would take more than that to take me,” I grimaced despite my fatigue and pain.
In response, Lyria just rolled her eyes. She knew well not to argue with me. Instead, she let her eyes wander through our hilly terrain.
while I rested my back against a large rock and stretched my legs, giving my numb fingers their moment of respite from tightly grabbing the clutch, Lyria ran her finger around my ankles and thighs, checking my wounds. A sudden shiver ran up my spine as her callous yet gentle hands flowed over my skin.
“Maybe you should take it slow,” said Lyria. Her tone, slightly aggravated and intonated, with finality to it.
“Rest here for a bit Rils,” she said, “I will see what I could get for you.”
Saying that she scuttled away carrying her bindle with her, walking briskly towards the small array of thatched-roof huts in the distance.
While Taltil became my evergrowing shadow, not leaving my presence, Maapu started collecting stones. I watched the goblin curiously. The reason for his actions became clear when Theko started opening their travelling pack. He tossed aside a few pieces of clothing and finally settled on an old cloak. He then tore open a piece of cloth from the cloak and gave it a firm tug. After a few more cuts with his dagger, Theko finally presented a makeshift sling to Maapu.
“Bring food for Dark Mistress,” saying that Maapu ran to hunt.
I closed my eyes to catch rest, bask in the warm rays of the morning sun, till a cool shadow fell over. Theko and Taltil, in the meantime, erected a few branches and spread a cloak over them, making a temporary tent over me. I marvelled at their uncanny ability to forage in the lifeless terrain.
Maybe I should get hurt more often? It does feel nice to be pampered.
Eventually, Lyria returned, carrying a bowl of goat milk. I dared not to ask her how she managed to convince those farmers but her bindle seemed to weigh less than when she departed.
She slowly slid beside me and held the bowl closer to my face. As we both leaned forward, her warm steamy breath crashed against the surface of the milk, generating ripples that ran towards me. I took a deep breath, enjoying her scent.
With close proximity that we have not had in years, I looked deep into her eyes and she held and returned the gaze for one long uncertain moment. Our breathing became erratic, uneven and long-drawn. I slowly leaned forward, edging closer towards her inviting lips. Lyria did now withdraw. We ignored the bowl between us. Why bother with milk when there is something far better. Divine. As the distance between us closed, our breaths synchronised into one. Only a hair’s width remained between our lips to meet.
“Grand Misteress, two mole-rat, a squirrel and one big skeever,” interrupted the annoying voice of Maapu, “Grand feast for Grand Mistress.”
Maapu proudly strode into the camp, ignorant of what he interrupted and smugly presented the few dead small creatures that he hunted.
The rest of the day, while we journeyed, Lyria avoided me, almost as if she was ashamed of dropping her defences around me. She erected a barrier and chose to scout ahead, letting the three goblins assist me during the journey. Even as we rested for the night, Lyria opted to watch, citing that she was used to working with less sleeping. Despite the protest from Maapu and Theko, Lyria did not budge and the night ended with her guarding us.
The following day as the sun began its evening descent, the obvious onset of dehydration showed up in all of us, forcing Lyria, who acted as our unofficial guide to take a diversion. After trudging through small trails and winding pathways through sharp cut rocks and wedges between hills, we finally reached a small stream.
Wild grasses grew to gigantic proportions, aided by the only source of water in the land. A few large flies buzzed over the stream, while pale scaled lizards stood motionless, blending into the surrounding rocky terrain. Spooked by our sudden presence, the lizards scurried away. Obviously, annoyed that we disturbed their lazy day.
Having returned the bowl back to the farmers on the previous day and bereft of any means to hold water, the goblins had no qualms in sinking their faces into the stream to drink directly. In the presence of Lyria, I choose to show a dignified appearance and cupped my good hand to hold water. An action that only served partially to its cause. After watching me fail in taking a few sips, Lyria finally volunteered.
She cupped both her hands together and brought the cool water to my lips. I greedily took a huge gulp from her hands, letting her fingers touch my lips. After the first two attempts, I slowly closed my lips around one of her fingers and sucked in before releasing. Lyria’s face held a mischievous smile, the sort that said, ”I know where this is going.”
The next time she offered me her cupped hand, I ignored the water and slowly ran my tongue over her fingers. Lyria stiffened at my action but she did not drop her hands. Eventually, she smirked. Encouraged, I grew a bit bolder.
“Dark Mistress, please drink from this,” cut in Theko, this time.
He held a small cone made from contorting the tall grasses. A very crude cup but one that still held water long enough to drink.
Lyria dropped her hands and patted Theko, praising his ingenuity.
“There you go, Rils,” she said with a grin, “Help yourself.”
The following day, the trail became a well-trodden one and we greeted the occasional travellers that we met. Most of them were Orc farmers on their bullock carts, transporting simple farm products towards neighbouring settlements. Once we encountered a lone bullock cart yoked only to a single bull while the other one trailed slowly behind the cart. As we neared the cart, the reason became clear. The single beast of burden in the back frothed heavily and walked with slow unsteady steps.
Lyria struck a deal with the farmer and offered to yoke herself to the cart in place of the beast if I could be allowed to rest in the cart. Despite my protest and reservations, Lyria gave one of her heart-melting smiles and gladly yoked herself.
Lyria’s monstrous physique proved herself to be equal to the beast of burden as she pulled the cart with steady and unfaltering steps. Theko attempted in vain to assist Lyria and after a few steps, the strength of the goblin gave up and he resigned himself from the self-appointed task.
For my part, I felt ashamed of my present state.
Ashamed at letting Lyria lower herself to such mean tasks.
Ashamed at what I put her through.
In the end, the orc farmer proved to be a traditionalist in an Orc sense. Lyria has shown the strength that Orcs honour and dripped with heavy sweat that the orcs revered. Much to our chagrin, the farmer insisted on providing us with some of the items that he carried. Sensing our reluctance in taking from the poor farmer, he took his cloak and draped it across my shoulders, grabbed a bundle of salted meat and thrust the same in Theko’s hands. Finally, as a parting gift, he took two small wooden flasks and gave them to Maapu.
There was no need to guess what contents were held inside. Orcish homebrewed Alcohol.
Late that evening as we retired, maybe it was the high altitude or just the local unpredictable weather, the temperature dropped. Theko kept the campfire kindled till late in the evening. As the temperature dropped further and the cold air mercilessly blew through, Maapu could not resist the urge to open the flask of Orcish alcohol.
Fully aware of the strong stuff that the orcs usually brew, both of us refrained from tasting the contents of the flask. Maapu greedily took two mouthfuls and his senses decided to take a temporary vacation. The goblin started blabbering about enslaving mind flayers, teaching Colby the art of war and riding an army of ungoliants. Theko looked at the ground and refused to interact with Maapu. Eventually, Maapu found Taltil to be his outlet and dared her into a drinking contest. One which she gladly participated to prove him wrong.
As the revelry progressed, I wished for an end and my wishes were fulfilled in the form of Theko. He finally pulled Maapu aside and excused under the pretext of hunting for food. Theko left with the promise of returning at dawn with a small game, dragging the befuddled Maapu with him. Soon Taltil collapsed. We draped an old cloak around her to protect her from the cold.
Finally, it was just us. Alone.
Lyria kneeled closer to me and rubbed my shivering shoulders. Her warm breath caressed my unkempt air and crashed against my neck. Soon we found ourselves lying on the ground over a rough thick blanket. I uttered a silent thanks to Theko for leaving us his travel pack.
We both turned and gazed into the eyes of each other. For a moment, Lyria was still the young girl that I first met. Time had not managed to mar her youth. In fact, it added an element of mystery to her. She was young and not young.
She slowly extended her leg and traced a curve on my leg with her big toe. I responded by sticking my first toe and soon both our big toes fake wrestled. A piece of Celestial music, heard by none, played and our toes danced to it. Each attempting to lead the other. Contorting, twisting and overwhelming their partner.
We surprised ourselves by giggling in the end. At my age, I never thought that I was capable of giggling like a lovelorn chaste maiden and yet our age held its own secret.
We were back to our early days, young, innocent and unsure of what we wanted. Any thoughts about Lyria being a new person vanished. She is still the same. So am I.
Lyria silently reached out and stroked my hair, behind my ears.
“You are still childish,” she commented.
“Ma’am,” I said with contorted mirth, “I am very much an adult and I could prove.” I slowly moved my hand and with my fingers traced a swirling curve on her neck. In return Lyria simply smirked, taunting me to work well on my threat.
I let my fingers slide down and ran them over her erect nipple. She took a deep breath and slowly closed her eyes. Not so fast, my love.
My fingers raced upwards, caressing her jaw, and slowly working my way closer to her lips. My thumb wiped over her lips twice, before I leaned in and placed mine over hers. I tenderly pushed my tongue, breaking her willing defences and parted her inviting lips. My eager tongue sought......
A wild croaking sound and the most unignorable pungent odour assault.
Taltil raised herself and regurgitated over her blanket. Apparently, undigested salted meat and ill-roasted skeever parts mixed with the strong Orcish alcohol from a goblin stomach apparently do not smell of roses.
Her eyes darted at the two of us and then she ignored our presence and went to sleep.
“We need to get that cleaned,” said Lyria, “Otherwise, that cloak is ruined.”
Lyria held her hand and blocked me as I attempted to rise.
“Rils, you had attendants clean up after you. You won’t know how to clean it, let me do it,” volunteered Lyria before she left.
Alone, I cast a glance on the sleeping form of Taltil and for a very brief moment, I fantasised about feeding her to Ryleval.
I need to get rid of these three somehow.
