Ai generated concept art for Urganza.

Couldn't get the green skin tone or the tusks to appear prominently.

Probably this is where traditional artists would shine.

It was not long before Urganza was ceremoniously ushered into the Manor by Antilorwe's maid. The orc found the Lady of the Manor in her very personal and private solar. She entered the room with confident steps, taking no notice of the dead silence hanging in the air. Instead, she strolled towards a couch and ignoring the gestures of the maid, she plopped down. Expunging hot air with her deep sigh, she indicated that there was nothing left to ponder.

No sooner than Urganza settled herself, Antilorwe crossed her slender ankles, leaning forward as if reaching out to Urganza. Her hazel eyes turned their attention, instead towards her maid.

While a silent exchange transpired between the Maid and her Mistress, Urganza let her eyes entertain on the lavish display of wealth assembled in Antilorwe's private chamber. Ornate marble fireplace cleaned to a last speck of dust, windows adorned with lace curtains overlooking her large well-tended garden and offered an even broader view of the extended fields beyond the confines of her Manor. To the left of the fireplace, stood a table laden with bowls of cornucopia. The sweet smell so divine, that no mortal appetite could resist it.

Some crystal vases filled with exquisite flowers complemented the elegance of her decor. Large diamond chandeliers, worth a small fortune, sparkled brightly from the centre of the ceiling, illuminating her private parlour in its refined and resplendent glory. On the far corner stood an intricate rosewood divider, beyond which, lining the far wall was a collection of robes ranging from plain linen to silk brocade and frills. A deep blush settled on Urganza's face as the low cut and the reason for the supposedly impractical design of the robes dawned upon her. Averting her eyes from the lascivious outfits, she let her gaze wander around the chambers while Antilorwe still held the whispered conversation with her maid.

After speaking with her maid for a short while, Antilorwe returned her focus back to Urganza.

The Orc desperately attempted to avoid meeting the overtly suggestive gaze of the High elf. With struggled effort, Urganza finally resorted to eyeing everything inside the chamber, slowly letting herself intoxicated by its beauty and rich opulence. For every extravagant gift, Antilorwe had surrounded herself with visual pleasure and sensual delights. Her wine cellars undoubtedly held only the best offering to be found in the regions. Urganza was certain that the High-elven diplomat dined only on the finest meat served warm on a golden platter with silver forks and knives.

Urganza felt conflicted. What could someone living such a sumptuous life want anything in her? Was she just another trophy in her conquest, like all those exotic and exquisite objects that she surrounded herself with?

Sensing the struggle going on inside Urganza, Antilorwe cocked her head sideways with a sly smile curling her plump lips and her pink tongue teased the tip of her peachy lower lip. She raised a suggestive eyebrow, prompting Urganza to squirm uncomfortably beneath her forbiddenly mischievous gaze. Something about the way the high-elf moved, spoke, even her smile made Urganza flustered and sweat.

Her attention snapped back to Antilorwe's face, where a tiny hint of insecurity glinted in the gorgeous eyes. She gazed at Antilorwe more intently, taking time to steady herself. The more they gazed at each other, the more Antilorwe fed Urganza's curiosity. The orc soon sensed something more vulnerable behind Antilorwe's stern exterior. That mischievous sparkle only intensified the longer she looked into Antilorwe's eyes.

"My maid has been instructed to prepare your room, should you choose to retire early," said Antilorwe.

"But..." Urganza somehow sensed that there was a plausible hook to Antilorwe's statement.

The High-elf diplomat tilted her chin ever-so-lightly as if the Orc's conjecture pleased her.

"Though I would prefer if you would allow me the comfort of your company," she uttered, still maintaining her playful demeanour and added as an afterthought, “At least just for a while.”

For a brief vulnerably tender moment, Urganza felt that she caught a glimpse of plea in Antilorwe's tone. But as quickly as she noticed, Urganza lost it amidst the frenzied rush of feeling at Antilorwe's languid beckoning. Her inner core started vibrating at the slightest encouragement. Urganza knew not how this High-elf woman knew how to make her heartburn. It seemed the Lady of the Manor desired more than simply seducing her and Urganza was well aware, in the confines of her thick gut, that Antilorwe had shared many an intimate moment with both elven and non-elven women.

Urganza understood that she too was tempted by that alluring lure and the fire burning inside her, but she could not let the High elf possess her. Slowly, her eyes lifted up to the High-elf's seductive stare. Every fibre in her being felt the draw of the tantalisingly wicked pair of orbs gazing upon her. It took all her strength not to lean closer, to press against the warm and willing body of Antilorwe.

As much as Urganza tried to ignore it, her innermost part, her core demanded what Antilorwe promises.

What Antilorwe represents!

There was no resisting the endless demands that sat on Urganza's lips and tummy. The Orc could only cling to her stubborn resolve and a narrow sliver of hope that Cyrene would reciprocate. Urganza shook her head to clear it of thoughts of what she wanted, as her head reeled with a siren call of desire. Her brows furrowed in vexation as she fell prey to those wonderful gazes once again.

Eventually, she mustered the courage to speak when the High-elf continued to stare at her. "There is something I must tell you," Urganza blurted, still unable to utter a coherent word of thought.

"Please." Antilorwe's face lit up with a mischievous smile while her slender well-trimmed fingers extended, wiping away tiny beads of sweat from Urganza's forehead.

At the candid act of Antilorwe's tender care, Urganza could only feel a jittery surge moving through her every nerve and muscle. It was all too much for her overloaded senses. She stared down into Antilorwe's unblinking eyes, trying hard to articulate her thoughts.

"What is it?" Antilorwe enquired.

"I come from a culture where courtship is frowned upon, especially from someone brandishing a title like mine," stated Urganza.

"Not in mine," retorted Antilorwe with a sultry grin.

Urganza did not know why, but hearing Antilorwe speak these words sent shivers through her bones.

"Antilorwe... I-"

Suddenly, Antilorwe's hands wrapped around Urganza's wrist and she pushed Urganza's arm down until it rested against the soft armrest of the couch. Both her hands now fully occupied with Urganza's muscle-defined arms, Antilorwe gripped tighter. She rolled her eyes playfully, making the devious smirk twitch at the corner of her lips.

She pressed Urganza harder against the couch, trapping her forearm firmly between them.

"You do not need to tell me anything. My own instincts guide me, quite well," asserted Antilorwe.

Those last few words sounded increasingly like a promise. Her warm scent flooded Urganza's nose, tickling her nostrils as she closed her eyes. An irresistible invitation to surrender to her carnal lust.

"But, the fact remains, you are my guest here, in my manor. Your safety and comfort are of utmost importance to me. If anything, I must insist that you tell me whatever you wish and I will never judge you," added Antilorwe softly letting her warm breath caress the Orc behind the ears.

Hearing the rich timbre of her voice fill her ears made Urganza shiver uncontrollably. A wave of gentle spasms rippled through her, originating from the swollen spot between the top of her folds.

"Tell me Urganza," Antilorwe murmured as if it were an order, tugging Urganza further towards her inviting form.

Something twisted within Urganza's heart after Antilorwe uttered her name.

A soft sigh escaped Urganza and she finally voiced her thoughts, "......Cyrene."

A twinge of guilt filled her heart at those words. All her senses heightened, awaiting a declaration.

As a response, Antilorwe brushed a strand of her lush black hair away from Urganza's cheek, those magical hazel eyes gazed into her soul. A pure expression of longing hovered on Antilorwe's bedazzling face. Both Antilorwe and Urganza held to each other for another uncertain moment before the High-elf pulled herself back. Her face returned to its serene expression worthy of her station.

Adjusting the folds of her skirt, Antilorwe walked towards one ornate cupboard and rummaged through its contents. Shutting the cupboard back with a sharp thud, the High-elf diplomat turned to produce a small gilded ornamental box. Antilorwe approached the couch and sat down. Impassively grabbing Urganza's hand, she set the music box in Urganza's callous palm.

Holding the delicate music box as carefully as one would hold a newborn, Urganza stroked the fine silvery metal with reverent fingers. Beads inside clicked merrily. Feeling the exquisite touch, Urganza looked apprehensively at Antilorwe.

Antilorwe leaned closer to whisper in Urganza's ear. "Your first and most important lesson. A social dance to approach Cyrene. Now pay attention.”

A burst of joy filled Urganza's veins. The sincerity of Antilorwe's expression was enough to reduce the burden off Urganza's soul. A profound relief bloomed within Urganza's chest, lifting her hopes higher and higher. Unable to tear her eyes away from the intricate ornamental box, Urganza slowly lifted the lid. Melodious music began playing softly. It suddenly broke into a bold pulsating tune. Emboldened by the charming melody, Urganza leaned closer to Antilorwe, letting her warm breath caress her pale complexion.

"Thank you," replied Urganza.

Antilorwe had no doubt about it. What Urganza truly needed was the warmth of one singular beauty.

Antilorwe picked up the music box and gently tugging, ushered Urganza into the main hall where there was enough space for the two of them to practice. But her mind teemed with a thousand questions. Comprehension eluded her. She had already deduced that the Orc was invested in the mage. The subtle humiliation that tugged at her heart had more to do with simple rejection. Antilorwe cared deeply for Cyrene, more than she could admit. Her own sense of morality was harsh and a painful reminder that stirred her sensibilities. Almost as if she stole the innocent Cyrene's lover.

That hurt worse than any physical punishment could ever hurt. What happened between the two beautiful beings that she so craved? The realisation shook Antilorwe's inner core. She could not let go of those tempting feelings. They were no longer fleeting carnal desires. They piqued curiously inside her, forcing her to question her decision.

How can she deny her steadily raising emotional, physical and sexual desires? With the closeness to the Orc, they only seemed to have grown stronger over time. While she refused to acknowledge the truth to her own inner compass, Antilorwe found her need ever greater, that could not be ignored. It required an effort to withstand the raw and untempered presence of Urganza.

Leading the Orc by looping her slender arms around the bulging sinewy biceps, Antilorwe tightened her grip, letting her fingers roam, delighting in the feeling of the undulating muscles beneath.

"Come dance with me," she whispered.

The raw and yet tender gaze and the slight touch of her fingers across Urganza's racing veins were enough to make her soul tremble. Once again, Antilorwe felt entrapped in a sea of confusion. She felt every fibre of her being craving Urganza's undivided attention. Urganza was warm, sensual, tantalising and evocative. Such contrasts of heat overwhelmed Antilorwe's numb senses. That brief kiss, when Urganza's mouth rested on hers, Antilorwe melted. That's why abandoning every facade, she had urged Urganza to follow her purely on instinct.

Forcing Urganza to steady her posture, Antilorwe wrapped both her supple arms around Urganza's neck and waist, lifting her slightly higher. Tightening her grip, even more, she pulled Urganza closer and her alluring presence invaded her. Their bodies pressed together, While their legs locked, an instinctive gesture to match the sway of their hips.

As the melody began to flow, filling the silent hall with a slow ethereal beat, gaining faster and faster pace, Antilorwe relished in the adorable struggle of Urganza to match her steps.

For Urganza, it was easy to dance with a blade than with the High elf.

With every struggle, the orc's heartbeat rose, while her hot breaths wafted through her nose and caressed Antilorwe's flushed skin. A heated skin, almost feverish to be consumed. Urganza's luscious breasts heaved freely, visible through her loose linen shirt. Antilorwe wanted to reach out and touch them. Despite convincing herself, almost in no certain terms, the High-elf felt herself tossed between two opposing sentiments.

There was nothing Antilorwe wanted more than to let the Orc's hands explore her lascivious body --- everywhere. No spot forbidden. Yet, She was convinced that the particular closeness was happening because of Cyrene. Her worries tore apart her soul and her insides churned. To her knowledge, Cyrene was socially inept, even naive and idealistic but Mage never harboured any malice in her. Cyrene deserved honourable treatment. Yet, something about it made Antilorwe slip out of her moral high ground. She felt disgusted, selfish and somewhat betrayed by herself. And still, she was unable to leave the powerful hold of Urganza.

It was hard to concentrate, with Urganza beside her and her powerful amber orbs ripening her desire, staring deep into Antilorwe's soul. The High-elf noted the change in the atmosphere of the hall. There was more lust in the air. More pain in her heart. In their hearts. Every lingering touch caused a tingle between the folds of Antilorwe's quim.

"Tell me Orc High Lady Urganza, is dancing forbidden for Orcs?" teased Antilorwe with contorted mirth. Followed by a chuckle, like pearl beads falling across a silver surface, eased from her lips and her amusement carried an edge of frivolity.

"We dance, especially after a raid and usually holding a pike with our slain foe's head on it," replied Urganza with candid honesty.

"Can we dance without doing that?" teased Antilorwe further. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she playfully nudged Urganza. Every gesture that Antilorwe made was laced with lighthearted teasing.

Antilorwe’s playful chuckles pulsated through Urganza's core. When the echoes of her chuckles ceased, Urganza moved closer. Her smouldering gaze watched Antilorwe intently.

In response, a muted thrill ran through Antilorwe's entire body.

"Let us see if we improve your dance. With any luck, you will have Cyrene's pike resting through you while you devour her ruby cheeks. Now come dance with me," continued Antilorwe even though her own soul burned in her belly. Nor could her brazen attempt at humour stop her from hearing the sounds of her own beating heart and the crying call of a fragile soul buried inside her.

A flood of sensuality rose in Urganza's blood, reawakening every sensation, every desire, every thought. Antilorwe's words were like the final incantation to trigger the spell. The slender High-elf's words, her tone, the subtle implications of those honeyed words, everything incited the hidden suppressed cravings of Urganza.

"Then I would do strive to improve, My sweet lovable High-Elf," responded Urganza with bowed shoulders, as a seductive, angelic smile gracefully creased her wide scarred cheeks.

Her sudden statement rocked Antilorwe's soul. To her, the acknowledgement, the validation, humbled Antilorwe's feeble mind. While she smiled back, feeling her insides quake with pure pleasure, Urganza clasped her arms around Antilorwe tightly. Leaning forward, they both fell into an elegant yet provocative rhythm, with Urganza attempting to mirror the graceful movements of Antilorwe. Both pairs of eyes glittered with passion and eagerness.

Despite Antilorwe's nonchalance, her heartbeat throbbed and grew louder, pulse throbbing in the tall High-elf's chest. Every step was slower. Each tilt and twirl, more pronounced. Sensual phrases and provoking touches. Antilorwe felt every beat and heard each thud echo off the walls. Even her words lacked any clarity and just like a rising tide, became hazy with the thick fog of lust. Unable to focus her mind, everything appeared blurred and desiring anticipation.

With the sudden invasion of Urganza's words and closeness, Antilorwe couldn't stop looking at the Orc's swollen tits and those heavy pendulous nipples. Dark and unrestrained, that even the thick fabric of her linen shirt could not obscure it. So heavy and begging to be kissed. Those engorged nipples needed stroking and caressing. She traced a trail of butterfly kisses down Urganza's neckline, tilting her head up as she caressed the curve of her stunning neck. Shifting position, Antilorwe cupped Urganza's breasts and enjoyed their firm weight. As Urganza's breathing escalated, there was no denying that the two dancers’ hearts beat as one. So much that it sent shivers across the backs of Antilorwe's arms and her nether region. All inhibitions that the tall High-elf had kept chained, shattered to a million pieces. The vision before her must be answered, must be satisfied.

Urganza's own mouth was focused on Antilorwe’s neck. A fascination, Antilorwe stirred, at the moment, in Urganza's soul. Though unsure why, Urganza could only feel the sheer powerlessness. And powerlessness brought with it its own kind of guilt and nagging despair. Her broad and wide orc lips left harsh saliva streaked impression on Antilorwe's delicate neck. The High-elf gave a muffled moan, at first in denial then frustration as Urganza suddenly drew away, leaving behind burnt stinging trails.

"You can't draw near me, incite all those flames, leave a mark on my body and pull back to your whimsical cocoon," accused Antilorwe, desperate for contact. For touch. Her own words surprised her. It sounded so unlike her, to beg for it. Almost like madness but Antilorwe felt the need strongly.

Urganza knew that the delicate High-elf before her desired a little more intimacy than dancing. Yet Urganza hesitated. Raising her gaze to meet Antilorwe's eyes, Urganza gazed down at the helpless face of the High-elf. In Urganza's deep-set eyes, Antilorwe saw longing and remorse. Antilorwe's own beautiful fair complexion was soiled with tears.

"I.....am drawn to you because I am attracted to you." Urganza gasped. "But, I can't.....I can't do this," she murmured, swallowing the lump in her throat. She wanted to be close to the slender figure again. Staring at the High-elf's rosy cheekbones and now exposed creamy white throat, Urganza could barely control herself from ripping off Antilorwe's gown. Biting strongly enough to draw blood on her inner cheeks, Urganza clenched her fist tightly in a fragile hope to tame her failing self-control.

Antillorwe glanced at her fingertips as if looking at some invisible object, paying little heed to the rising melodious note from the music box. Suddenly, Antilorwe lunged forward and pressed her mouth against Urganza's. The Lady of the Manor nibbled on the Orc Overlord's full bottom lip and pulled her mouth close, her tongue darting out to caress Urganza's own in the most gentle of manner. Urganza felt her face burn crimson red. While her mind screamed no, her body screamed yes! She opened her mouth and received Antilorwe's soft prodding, gently capturing her soft pink lips.

Tenderly, Antilorwe broke contact.

"Tell me Urganza, this is not real! What you feel is not genuine. Your words might be twisted but your lips do not lie in what they crave." Antilorwe retorted while trying desperately to hold back the walloping defeat surging in her throat. It did take severe effort for Antilorwe to look directly into Urganza's dilated amber eyes.

Urganza's herself, the proud undefeated warrior and the Overlord of the orcs felt naked, exposed and vulnerable. For once, she felt frightened. Fear, of a different sort, overwhelmed her. Antilorwe forced her to face questions that she would rather not. Unable to look Antilorwe in the eye, Urganza desperately averted her gaze.

"Why don't you accept that we are both attracted to each other," Antilorwe insisted over the bleak silence that hung around Urganza.

At the barrage of questions, every single one piercing the ignored truth, Urganza's insubstantial body swayed slightly as she felt her balance falter. True! She did feel attracted to the seductive High-elf before her but she could not give in to a wild impulse. A spur of a moment, a fleeting attraction.

"Please...." Urganza breathed hoarsely. Every nerve, every cell seemed aware of the situation, pleading with her to comply with Antilorwe's request. Everything was urging Urganza to give in to the desires of the moment.

Was it wrong to reject someone who only wanted to do something genuine and fair for her?

Urganza slowly tried to voice her hesitancy.

"I have been given a second chance. I cannot afford to let it slip away," confessed Urganza softly, "It is a love doomed to fail. She, being an elegant mage and woman of letters and I, a mere warrior, tempered only by steel and massacre. With a quill in her elegant fingers, she writes of big things. hidden mysterious things, that my herder mind cannot even comprehend. With her other hand, she could conjure miracles out of thin air. I crush skulls with my hands -- that is what I do best. She is a dainty mage of a glistening pristine tower, I am an uncouth barbarian who rolls in muddy wallows."

Antilorwe could only stare at the tear filled amber orbs with growing irritation while Urganza painfully continued.

"Yet, every time I think of her I am filled with a deep sense to cherish. I want to wipe away that lingering sadness behind her emerald eyes. I want to see her smile grow brighter. I want to see her dance wildly, unchained and unrestrained, in a field of blossoms. But I cannot. I am drawn towards her and she seems far above me."

A lump formed in Urganza's throat and began to grow heavier with every word. Urganza's fragile self-confidence began to fade, swallowed whole by the swirling tides of rage and regret that flooded through her bones.

"Love is always elusive like the mirage of a cool spring in a desert. The wise know to avoid it. Neither should you indulge in such empty hopes," consoled Antilorwe through the sharp inhalation of breath as she gathered herself. Despite her own advice, Antilorwe noticed that it was her own feelings, her desires that were being fickle.

"High-elf Ambassador, please do not mock my feelings," said Urganza with bittered rage coursing through her veins, "They are not so whimsical that I change when another pretty face is easily available. I, do not discard my sentiments like others discard their robes. I cannot make myself so limited and insignificant. If I allow myself to succumb to that temptation, I am not worthy of the second chance."

As the orc completed her words, she turned her attention towards the small ornate box standing solemnly, the tune from its enchanting melody lulling her deeply into submission.

Everything seemed to slow down after Urganza spoke. Her indignant and callous words stuck Antilorwe with the force of a battering ram. Even though the High-elf stood firmly grounded on her feet, feeling much taller, every fibre of her body appeared as if jittery, trepidatious. She still fought the surging tide of emotion threatening to drown her. Antilorwe had a sudden urge to press her cold slender fingers on the orc's heated cheeks. It was like watching life pass by, burning out of sight.

"The unfiltered hope that you nourish will hurt you more than any fiery kiss. You already experienced rejection from Cyrene once, you won't fall victim to that allure again. Let it go. Just, let it go!" urged Antilorwe through the unbroken veil of apprehension that hung in the hall.

"Perhaps you are right, High-elf Ambassador. Perhaps this is folly. But if it is, it is foolishness born from me. An unwanted fool's sentimentality; which, I may never recover from. When you realize that your greatest weakness is indeed a strength, you cannot simply abandon it," replied Urganza.

Both the High-elf and orc did not dare to meet each other's gaze. With agonizing care, Urganza turned her head away from Antilorwe's grave demeanour. Though there was still light seeping into her hazel eyes, her brows creased together in guilt and vexation, in equal measure. While anger and indifference raced closely behind.

Gone was the harmonious music from the quaint little box and in its stead, only a heavy ashen cloud of despair and tension filled the exquisite hall of the manor. Only the barely audible footsteps of Antilorwe's maid shattered the heavy judgemental air in the hall. Reading the tense atmosphere, she stopped a good measure from her mistress and announced over the charged silence.

"Mistress, your other guest, the Mage Cyrene is here."

ElenaV

Apologise for the miss scheduling and thanks for the one patient reader, who actually dropped me the message. Thank you Kind stranger.