THIS HUMAN IS…FRUSTRATING.
Like all humans she is incredibly weak. But Kaethe, as she calls herself, seems unluckier than most. Oblivious too, not noticing the predators who track her movements from deep within the tree line. I can feel their eyes on her, salivating over an easy meal.
When we stopped to make camp she slid off the back of my icewolf so fast to avoid me touching her again, that she did not consider how deep the snow would be. It came up past her knees and she trudged through until she got to the clearing. The bottom half of her dress was soaked and clinging to her legs.
Before she even made it to where the snow leveled out, she stumbled twice. Both times I had to reach down and pluck her from the snow, her cheeks red with embarrassment. All I could do was grunt and lead her forward.
It’s exhausting keeping this human alive. Given the chance, I’m sure she would set off on her own. However, she knows she wouldn’t make it to the edge of camp before the starving beasts of the woods decide to take a bite out of her.
I wonder for the second time since stopping to make camp if she is worth the headache.
Yes, she is, a small voice whispers to me. She saved Zarod, and she is nice to look at.
Kaethe did save Zarod, and I owe her for that. She’s checked on him at each stop, to which he responds with jokes that make her small smile appear. It is a pleasant expression and yes, it is true that she is nice to look at.
The time on the road has been long and I can’t remember the last time I was with a female. I’ve never been with one like Kaethe though. Tiny and soft, supple and smooth. Her big brown eyes dance as she takes in the sights before her with timid wonder. When she was nestled between my thighs earlier it had been nice to share in her warmth. As it would be nice to share the warmth of any woman or female.
Regardless of her pleasantness there is the matter of her secrets.
Anyone who keeps secrets is dangerous, and her situation is extremely odd. A human female, one clearly not used to camping and navigating barren terrain, has set off alone to meet someone at Dread’s Keep.
I make a note to keep watch of this human.
But what she doesn’t have in brute strength, she makes up for in intelligence. With what’s in that kit of hers I suppose she could poison all of us. The apprehension I see in her as she keeps her distance from our group makes me believe the thought has crossed her mind.
Vorgak will want to know all about her. There will be no way to escape him in Dread’s Keep. Whoever she is planning on meeting there has to know that.
And whoever it is is not her lover.
As much as that knowledge pleased me, for reasons I don’t quite understand, it also adds to her mystery. Why come all this way if not for someone you love? Dread’s Keep has very few humans, so it is unlikely she is meeting another one there. She has no orc in her, I’d be able to smell it.
All of it leaves me baffled with the same questions I’ve had since finding her in that hunting net.
We’ve stopped at an old outpost. The clouds above are dark, meaning they will bring in more snow this evening. The outpost we are at should provide enough coverage. The wooden roof extended past the entryway of the building and provided enough protection from falling snow. However, that means no fire while we sleep.
A small one is built aways off to heat up dinner; another meager stew that is basically hot water and hard root vegetables. Kaethe gives thanks for her portion and goes to sit closer to the fire. The elements have taken a toll on her. Her pink braid is in tangles, her skin is pale and looks icy. And the purple bags under her eyes make her look sick.
I pull my eyes away from her as I hear footsteps come up beside me. Zarod clasps his stew in his hands and downs it in one gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“She is very pretty,” he says in orcish. “I see that you’ve noticed.”
“I doubt Mornga would approve of you noting another female’s beauty,” I say, raising a brow at him. Zarod only shrugs.
“Mornga used to be partial to females herself, if you recall.”
“You think she’ll leave you for this one, given the chance?” Zarod laughs and I am confused. I was genuinely curious. I don’t know much about having a mate, I just have the primal urge to find mine, wherever she may be. Surely mates would not be shared with someone else?
I can’t imagine ever wanting anyone to touch mine.
“No, Bazy, she likes my cock too much.”
Shaking my head, I look back at Kaethe. There is tension in her neck and shoulders, I can tell by the way she is holding herself. Sitting apart from everyone as they chat and laugh. Her eyes survey the crowd. No one is speaking in elven. In fact, no one is speaking to her. She looks lost and afraid and more than a little sad.
Her small hands grip her soup bowl, and our eyes meet as she looks over toward me.
As if in a daze I turn my body toward her.
“Sit with her, she must feel awfully lonely among us,” Zarod urges me. Would it really be that simple? Would she welcome my company? Her eyes drop from mine to her bowl. My body wants to walk over to her. To sit beside her and ask her more questions.
But talking and sitting with her could lead to dangerous thoughts. Thoughts that would be no good for anyone. Least of all this human.
“No,” I say, turning away from her, from all of them. Zarod calls after me but I ignore him. This human is not my problem. My job is to get my men back home safely. We will take her to Dread’s Keep and we will leave her at Dread’s Keep. And there she can spend her days talking to whoever she came all this way to meet.
But as the sunsets and I finish setting up where we will be sleeping, I return to the fire to see Zarod engaging her in conversation. He’s telling some horrible joke and she laughs quietly. The tension from her body gone, her guard not down but relaxed, if only for a moment. A few of the others chime in and I watch her smile at them softly. Answering whatever they ask her.
In this moment, I wish I was the reason her body was less tense, and she felt safe. I hate this ugly emotion worming its way into my heart. It isn’t something I’ve felt for a while and as it settles in my stomach, it tastes an awful lot like jealousy.
Walking over to them, I clear my throat.
“Time for bed. Targoc will take the first watch. The sun will rise before any of us are ready for it.”
Targoc grumbles but nods while everyone else makes their way to the overhang to set up their bedrolls for the evening. Kaethe walks past me with Zarod, both still locked in some sort of conversation.
“I unrolled your pack for you.”
She stops short and looks up at me, surprise shining in her dark eyes. I add, “No fire tonight.”
Mother of the Mountain, I sound unpleasant even to my own ears.
“Oh, thank you,” she says, a reluctant smile curling her lips. I want to puff my chest out as if to say, see I too can make you smile. All my pride quickly diminishes when Zarod snags her by the elbow.
“Put your bedroll next to mine, Kae. I want to hear more stories about the king and that saucy queen of his.”
My face twists. He touches her and she doesn’t recoil. He gives her a nickname and she doesn’t scoff. Zarod has always had a way with females. Easily approachable in a way that I’m just not. I’ve never minded before, but to think Kaethe prefers his type of male makes my teeth grind.
“She will sleep in the center where it is the warmest.”
Zarod looks over at me, mouth in an easy grin that means he’s about to make some remark. Whatever expression he sees on my face has his brows lowering. I hold his stare for a moment until he nods.
“Right, of course,” he finally says.
Kaethe glances between us with a questioning look but I turn and walk away, retrieving my own bedroll. The camp is dark with no fire. Even with my good eyesight, it’s hard not to trip over anyone.
Everyone sets out their bedrolls, and I make my way as close to Kaethe as I can near the center of our formation without arousing suspicion. Everyone settles under the wooden awning extending out from the main part of the outpost. The night is quiet and before long I can hear the soft thuds of snow falling against the roof above us. The wind kicks up and I burrow deeper under my cloak.
Closing my eyes, I try not to think about how close she is. How perfectly she fit against me while we rode today. These thoughts serve only to complicate hers and my life. Complications I don’t need. I already have enough problems to worry about.
The wind whips through the trees, shaking some branches, and a few flurries are blown in under the roof. Rolling on my side I wait for sleep to claim me. I’m bone tired, uncomfortable, and I want to savor the few hours I have before we have to set off again.
I can hear a few of the males snoring around our camp. But mixed in among the deep breaths and wheezes are feminine whimpers of pain.
Flipping onto my side, I look over to Kaethe. Her small body, nothing more than a bump under her cloak, is shaking from the force of her shivering. Her teeth rattle as they snap together; the cold air is seeping through her thin cloak.
I groan and roll to my knees. Haven’t I survived worse with less before?
Trudging over to her shuddering form, I throw my cloak down on top of her. I grit my teeth at the moan she lets out before she shoots upright. Her eyes look around frantically in the dark.
“Your shivering is keeping me awake.”
“Oh, s—sorry, th—th—thank you.” Her teeth are still chattering. I grunt, not trusting what I might say to her and move back to my own bedroll. I brace myself against the chill of the wind. My clothes will keep me alive through the night, that is all that matters.
“Who knew you had a soft spot for pink-haired human females?”
I hadn’t even realized Zarod had set his bedroll up next to mine until I hear his voice in the dark.
“Shut the fuck up and go to sleep,” I snap at him in orcish. Zarod chokes on a laugh, but I hear him over the whistling winds.
“Oh Bazy, never did I ever think I would see the day.”
I close my eyes and pretend I have no idea what he’s talking about.
