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Kargorr

“ I think you should go yourself,” Orgha said as they both stood hunched over the map, trying to determine how many days’ ride it would be to the next parog . “I will take Samrak with me and lead the gift envoy. I already negotiated once with another lord who wanted to take off my head before I explained myself. I can do it again.”

Kargorr didn’t like it. But he also knew that, as always, Orgha was right. Convincing another lord to join his mission was something he ought to handle himself. He just didn’t want to leave his yapira so soon, without fixing what had gone wrong between them.

But perhaps it wasn’t something that could be fixed with a nail or a length of rope. There was, he hated to think, a chance she might never forgive him.

In that case, she would need time to forget. Perhaps Kargorr could return from this mission successful and have the reunion with her he had hoped for, and it would be good for both of them.

“Two days’ time, then,” Kargorr said, nodding. “We will load a heavy cart with goods for the eastern parog . That lord is a more finicky orc, so you will need to be gentle with him.”

Orgha snorted. “If I can handle you, kazek , I can handle him.”

Kargorr barked a laugh. “Spend your day tomorrow with your yapira ,” he said. “As I will with mine. And then we ready to leave.”

The other orc looked at him thoughtfully for far too long.

“Yes, I will remind her of our bond for when I am away,” Orgha said at last. “So that she will be thinking of me as I’ll be thinking of her.”

Kargorr furrowed his brow. It was an odd thing for Orgha to say. He never discussed his relationship with Rathka, nor had he ever shared anything about his life with her before now. With a significant nod, Orgha turned and left the tent.

Right. If Kargorr could remind Cedar of what they once had, and perhaps create a good memory together before he left... that would be in her heart while he was gone.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long bands of orange among the poles holding up the parog . Kargorr studied the bustle of activity as he walked, before word had spread of the upcoming journey. Families ate together with their doors open or sat around fires. Off in the distance, he heard a drum beating.

Someday, Kargorr thought, that would be him and his own orclings. But they would have a new world, a different one, one that he had hewn for them from solid stone. His departure was necessary to create that world. Then, he could claim Cedar as his yapira , once the foundation of it was steady under his feet.

She was not in the tent when he arrived, and for a moment, panic washed over him, wondering if she had run again. But Kiya was not there, either, and he spotted Rathka’s bag on the chair, which meant they had likely gone out together.

Perhaps Kargorr could discover what had been keeping his yapira busy while he was away. The more he could learn about her, the better it would solidify their bond.

He walked with his hands tucked behind his back, peering into doorways as he looked. At first, he intended to avoid the leatherworker’s, which always had an unpleasant odor around it—until he saw Kiya sleeping on a mat in front.

Kargorr paused and quirked an eyebrow. Is this where she’d been spending her time? He found it odd that Cedar would choose the foulest place in the parog , and yet also not surprising. She did love her furs.

He hummed as he approached, and Kiya’s head snapped to face him. The cat’s lip curled in the beginnings of a snarl, and his back arched. Kargorr was glad that Cedar had a creature so fierce to protect her.

“What are you upset about, Kiya?” came Cedar’s voice. She appeared in the doorway, and her face went slack when she saw Kargorr there. “You’re early. Or, I mean, earlier than usual. I don’t come here often, I promise. Just, when you were gone, there was nothing to do, so I?—”

He touched a finger to her lips, quieting her, and her eyes went round.

“Hush, little deer.” He took her shoulders in his hands firmly and turned her around. “Show me what you’ve been doing.”

When Kargorr stepped inside, his leatherworker, Carn, let out a surprised yelp. He quickly put down his tools and kicked away the basket of supplies at his feet.

“Lord Kargorr,” he said, tapping his chest. “I didn’t expect you here. It’s quite messy?—”

Kargorr held up one hand, and Carn fell silent. He took in the state of the shop and was amazed by the array of leathers in various states of curing. On the floor was a gorgeous white fur, perhaps some sort of northern fox, and that looked like where Cedar had been seated before he interrupted, her tools scattered about.

“You should be neat with your workstation,” he said to Cedar, tilting up the side of his mouth so she would know he was jesting. She had a look on her face like she’d been caught doing something wrong and hurriedly gathered up her supplies. He kneeled and put a hand on her back. “Are you upset that I found you out?”

She froze under his touch. “You’re not angry?”

“Angry? That you have been making yourself useful?” His brows drew together. “No. I am not angry. As long as you aren’t making more work for Carn.”

The old orc hurriedly came to her rescue. “Not at all,” he said in her tongue, reaching for a fur that was hanging up overhead. Cedar tried to stop him, but he gently pushed her out of the way. “She is a fast learner,” Carn added in Orcish, holding out the fur. “I believe she made this for you, but then she changed her mind. I think she was afraid you wouldn’t like her craftsmanship.”

Kargorr turned to Cedar, who was watching this unfold with her mouth open. She glared at Carn.

“You’re not giving that to him, are you?” she demanded.

Carn shrugged.

Now Kargorr was deeply curious. He took the fur, the massive thing, and lifted it off the ground until he reached the end, where the bear’s head had once been. Cedar had kept the upper jaw and left the teeth attached. She’d also retained the claws at the tips of the arms and legs.

“You did this?” Kargorr asked, lowering the huge fur. It must have taken hours upon hours.

Cedar nodded, clearly ashamed. Kargorr dipped his head to Carn in thanks for letting her work on a massive animal like this—one of the great big bears of the north—and for giving her a way to occupy her mind and her hands.

“Take this to our tent,” Kargorr said, returning the massive pelt to Carn. Cedar furrowed her brow, but Kargorr simply took her by the hand and led her to the door. When they stepped outside, he waved down the closest orc. “A bath in my tent. Now.”

Kargorr turned to her, and while Carn busied with bundling up the pelt, he dragged his hand underneath her hair. Cedar stiffened, but didn’t recoil from him.

“You smell terrible,” he said, shaking his head. “I need to get you clean before I can appreciate your gift.”

Cedar

She hadn’t meant for him to see the bear’s pelt. It was an experiment, one that Carn had gifted to her when the bear’s body was brought to him.

But Kargorr did not appear to be upset that he’d found her in the leatherworker’s tent, doing menial labor. In fact, she’d seen pleasure in his eyes as he surveyed the pelt, examining the head she’d left on, running his fingers over the sharp teeth.

She followed him back to their tent, where a tub had already been brought in. It reminded her of the very first night in the previous camp, when Kargorr had demanded that she clean him. She wondered if that was the night they had conceived the child she carried now.

How things had changed and also stayed the same.

The bear pelt was brought in while the bath was filled one bucket at a time until steam curled into the air above it. Kargorr stood before her, immense as always, as he traced his fingers down her collar to the laces of her tunic, which he pulled open slowly, intentionally. He lifted it up over her head and arms before tossing it away. Then came her pants. Soon she was revealed in front of him, and her nipples were so hard in the cold air that they hurt.

“Get in, little deer,” he commanded her, and reflexively, Cedar obeyed, climbing into the tub. The hot water enveloped her, and she couldn’t resist letting out a sigh of pleasure as it covered her cold skin. She watched as Kargorr undressed himself, revealing that big chest with the full pectorals, his strong belly, the line of muscle that trailed from his hip bones to the massive cock at the apex of his groin. His thighs were dense and thick, and when he turned to peel his pants off his big feet, Cedar found herself admiring his carved ass. No wonder he could fuck with such abandon when he looked like that.

At last, he stepped into the tub and settled in front of her, placing his legs on either side of her hips. She remembered this position, too, and how neatly she nestled between his calves. With his added bulk, the water rose nearly to overflowing the tub, and Cedar sighed as it covered her collarbone. She felt Kargorr’s eyes on her as she tilted her head back and sank even deeper, letting her hair drift under the surface of the water. Her knees floated up, and she felt his hands wrap around them, gently tugging her closer. Soon she was fully spread, her feet in his lap and her head leaning against the back of the tub. Perhaps she ought to have hidden herself from such exposure, but she was too tired and pleasantly warm to care.

Her eyes did open, though, when Kargorr’s calloused hand wrapped around her foot. He kneaded it with his strong fingers, forcing his thumb through the stiff muscle, and Cedar couldn’t help the low gasp of pleasure she let out. His body shuddered at the sound, but otherwise he gave no indication that he’d heard her as he continued his thorough rubbing. When he’d finished at her heel, he took her other foot and repeated the motion, digging his hands into her strained muscles, which she hadn’t realized were quite so hard until now. She couldn’t help sagging deeper into the water, her hips sliding toward his in the tub. When he finished with her other heel, he let it drop to his lap, and then she heard shuffling. Cedar glanced up to find him holding soap, and he took her legs once more, lifting them out of the water so he could lather her feet, then her calf and knee. His hand slipped down her thigh to her rear, where he ever-so-gently urged her to lift her hips.

Her body lit up like a flame at the touch. It remembered him so easily, how he felt around her, inside her, and suddenly all it wanted was to return to that place where they were joined together. Cedar crushed her eyes closed, hoping that if she simply didn’t look at him, at his square face and deep-set eyes and bulky, scarred chest, she could stave off how much she needed him.

And yet, she obeyed his unspoken command, her thighs spreading and her body rising with his hands. When he had her above the surface of the water, he continued soaping her, from her thighs to her belly. He leaned forward as he set her down once more, then continued upward to her chest. He spread suds liberally over her breasts, but never stopped on them for too long, only brushing his palms over her nipples as he worked the soap across her warm skin. When he reached her throat, he paused underneath her jaw, and Cedar couldn’t help peering up at him.

Kargorr’s brows were drawn together in thought, his lips curved down at the sides. Was he unhappy with her? Had she done something wrong without realizing it?

He leaned closer to her, his broad hands gliding up to cup her face. Cedar realized her legs were slung over his thighs, so now his prominent cock was rising in the water between them, and she shivered at the sight of it.

“Look at me, little deer.”

Her eyes jumped to his. This time, underneath the impossible blackness of them, Cedar thought she saw something else—something softer, warmer, sweeter. But was that simply her imagination? Her vast well of pathetic, hopeful thoughts?

He didn’t care for her. He didn’t love her. She was an object, a vessel, as she always had been. He wanted her complicity and thought he could buy it from her with affection, by rubbing her feet in the bath and looking deep into her eyes.

At last, Kargorr spoke.

“I meant what I said.” He stroked a thumb across her cheek. “You... are my yapira . The one I was supposed to find.”

Cedar frowned. He had called her this, and yet while he did it, he had stolen from her. He had ripped away any trust they might have built between them out there in the snow. What did he hope to gain now by telling her?

There was no destiny here, no intention. She was simply the unlucky girl who lived in the village Lord Kargorr destroyed, that was all. Perhaps his backward, brutish beliefs wanted it to mean more than that, but she knew the truth underneath.

It was all luck, or in her case, the lack thereof. When Lissa was murdered in front of her, Cedar knew there were no gods, no force of fate. She’d always suspected, but Kargorr had cemented that knowledge.

His hands slid under her hair, down her neck, around her back, so he could draw her closer. His frown deepened.

“You do not believe me.”

She couldn’t stand the expression of hurt that crossed his face. Surely he didn’t have feelings that could be injured. He pressed his lips to her forehead and held her there, his arms curled loosely around her.

“If that is really who I am to you,” she said finally, clenching her hands, “then why does Orgha treat Rathka as his partner, his equal? They have no children, and still, he loves her. He cares for her. He kisses her goodbye before he leaves. He doesn’t steal away in the night.”

Kargorr’s arms stilled around her.

“It is different for Orgha,” he said. “You know that I am trying to build something. Create something. Take back what is mine.”

It only took a breath for her to understand. So he would not treat her as Orgha treated Rathka, not while his work continued.

All that he offered her now was what he could offer her. She would never be more important than his mission.

Kargorr said nothing further when she didn’t answer. After a time, he drew away and gently turned her in the tub so her back faced his chest, then tipped her into the water to wash her hair. The intimacy of the gesture bewildered Cedar, but she allowed it, sinking into his hands. When he finished, he slid her into the triangle of his crossed legs, and while he was hard there underneath her, he did not attempt to put it inside her. No, his fingers trailed down to her breasts, circling her nipples, refusing to touch them. He explored her belly, her hips, her thighs. His tusks brushed the back of her neck as he brought his lips to her flesh, gently pressing them there before moving across her shoulder. While he touched every inch of her body with his hands, he covered the rest with his kisses, curling himself tighter and tighter around her until she thought she might vanish inside him.