Chapter 37

Cedar

The clan grew and grew, until the camp had become more of a city. Carn kept Cedar busy curing new hides to be sewn into tents, to help accommodate the massive influx of orcs that had taken over the camp. More trees had been felled and carved into posts, then piled high for future bonfires.

Though there were more mouths to feed, there were also more hunters and more livestock that had come with the travelers. And every night, more orcs crossed the lines, and Cedar foresaw dozens of ceremonies in the future between those who had been here, and those who had recently arrived, their unions tying all the groups together.

A distinct change came over Lord Kargorr in the days and weeks following. In the evenings, he told her everything that he had done that day in the new, larger parog as he rubbed kuja over the pink lines forming on her swollen belly. He had conflicts with the other lords over how to proceed, and the role of peacemaker did not come naturally to him. He would tell her what they argued about, and to her surprise, asked Cedar what she thought.

She gave him as wise counsel as she could, advising him how to play the other lords against each other to get what he wanted, how he could weasel them into agreeing to his proposals by doling out fodder for their egos.

And Kargorr listened raptly to her, then reported back how well it went.

“Orgha thinks I have lost my mind,” he said one evening as they sat on the floor in front of the fire, blankets and furs piled around them in a nest. “Allowing them to ‘walk all over me,’ as he put it.”

“You are the puppet master.” Cedar leaned back into his hard body, and he reached around her belly to cup it in his hands. “The puppet master’s moves should be invisible.”

He chuckled into her hair. “My clever yapira .” He kissed her there, his lips traveling down to the nape of her neck, his hand trailing up to her breasts, which grew larger with each passing day. They were also more sensitive now, and so Kargorr was gentle with her nipples as he teased them. “Is this how you mastered me? With your tiny strings?”

She chuckled as she kissed the palm of his hand. “Like gentling a cat.”

When he took her, he was more careful with her, and Cedar had to ask for him to fuck her harder.

Kiya was old enough that he could no longer sleep in their tent, as big and clawed as he had become, and so he moved out to sleep among the other cats. There were many new arrivals, and Kargorr appreciated it would improve the diversity of the group and prevent inbreeding.

Though Cedar missed Kiya at times, she went and saw him often, and whenever she called his name, he came running. He would snuffle at her hand, purring as she scratched behind his ears, and she always fell to her knees to hug him before she left again.

He was happier there, she knew, and the pang of loneliness she expected to feel never came. Day by day, Cedar grew more anxious to meet their orcling. Carrying it was no easy task, either. She grew quickly and often visited the healer to see that all was well. The old shosek still sneered down her nose at Cedar, but she didn’t dare speak out against her lord’s yapira . She applied salves to keep away stretch marks and tested the orcling’s position in Cedar’s belly with her hands.

“It is healthy,” she would say in Orcish. “Healthy and... strong.” She hesitated on the last word, as if she didn’t want to admit it, but it was too true to ignore.

And their orcling was growing strong, Cedar could feel it with every passing day.

“You are full to bursting with me,” Lord Kargorr would say, cupping her belly as if to take off some of the weight and carry it for her. Then he would kiss her throat, and palm one of her swollen breasts, even in the middle of the parog . Other orcs gave him appreciative nods, showing their respect for him and his yapira .

Kargorr had a knowing look in his eye one day as they went to visit Kiya out in the snowfields. Even though she was big and awkward, he told her it was as good of a time to learn to ride as any.

“What if I fall?” Cedar asked, wrapping an arm around her middle.

Her agsan merely smiled, and it was a rare expression. “The orcling will be fine. It’s mine, and it will be resilient.”

Cedar called to Kiya, and he happily jogged over to them, searching for treats. Cedar had practiced climbing onto Liga on her own, and Liga was much bigger, so Kiya shouldn’t present a problem.

She grabbed his scruff and slung her body up and over his back. But Cedar missed the first time, because her weight was strangely distributed. Kiya shuffled to one side, giving her an odd look.

“Hold still,” she said, and gave it one more try.

Then she was up on Kiya’s back, and he grunted underneath her.

“Sorry,” Cedar said, stroking his neck. “Do you want to go for a ride?”

So she leaned forward, as Kargorr had taught her, and ushered him into a run.

Kiya flew. Cedar’s body remembered how to move in time with the snap of his spine, to rise and fall with each stroke of his long legs. They ran and ran, making circles around the enormous camp, until both of them were exhausted.

When they returned, Lord Kargorr was waiting for her, a smug smirk on his face.

That night, he took her slowly, telling her how good and strong and beautiful she was atop her cat, and how he looked forward to riding side by side to their new homeland.

Kargorr was planning something, but would not share what it was.

After finishing at the leatherworker’s, Cedar hustled to the baths because she knew he detested the scent. He had worked many long hours today, as he did every day, preparing the camp and his warriors for their next mission.

She did not like that he would be leaving again soon, when the baby was so close to being born, but he promised it would be a short campaign to clear out villages that lay between the camp and the larger human city to the south.

“We will relocate then,” he had said, stroking her hair. “To bring all of you closer to the front line. It will be more dangerous, but with such a force amassed, I believe it will be more than safe for you and the orcling.”

Cedar was even rounder now, and Kargorr was the one to notice when the indent in her belly popped out. He was elated to discover it, that she was that much closer to giving birth to their first child. Sometimes he showed her off, leading her around the camp with him as he did checks and was called to oversee preparations.

Tonight, she was dressing herself for such rounds when Lord Kargorr returned to their tent. He was wearing unusual clothing, with necklaces of bone and teeth around his neck, and an elaborate jerkin with a swooping collar, so that his big chest was bare. His loincloth matched, and underneath it, his cock hung in a sling that hid very little.

“Cedar,” he said, leaning down to capture her lips. “Wear this?” He produced a long dress, sewn in a way she had never seen before, with elaborate hems and bones along the seams. Curious, she stripped down and changed into it, and his gaze traversed her with a pleased nod.

“Come.” He held out his arm, and curiously, Cedar obeyed, linking them together. He led her out of the tent, toward the pit in the middle of the camp.

The fire was already lit, but no one was dancing or drinking or singing. Many had gathered, but they were all silent as Lord Kargorr led her through the masses, toward the fire.

There, he stopped and turned to face Cedar.

“It has taken me far too long to do this, little deer,” he said, his dark eyes capturing hers and holding them there, riveted. “But now I will amend that.” He pushed her hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear, and then he swallowed in a way that was, she thought, almost apprehensive.

“My yapira ,” he said quietly, as if just for her ears. “You are mine. You have always been, and you always will be.”

Cedar nodded slowly, a subject they had covered before. But then, Lord Kargorr reached into his mouth, behind his right tusk. Her eyes widened as he yanked hard, and with a gush of red blood, he pulled one of his teeth free.

Kargorr

No woman radiated light the way his yapira did. Cedar was even keener than he’d thought, with a quick mind. Her heart could be as hard as it was soft, depending on who she showed it to.

Now that his orcling was nearly here, there was something he had neglected. A path of showing her what she meant to him—how he now lived in service of her pleasure. He had chosen the correct partner for his vision of the future. Now it was time to claim her, to give her the grrosek ’s truest symbol of devotion, a piece of himself to prove that she would always have his heart, as all his ancestors had done.

“Kargorr!” Cedar cried, reaching up toward him as he removed the tooth from his mouth, but he wrapped his fingers around hers and clasped them tight to show her it was all right. Orgha approached, carrying a pick and a hammer, and took the tooth away with him. A hole was made, and Cedar watched with horrified eyes as the bloody bone was slipped onto a string and returned to Kargorr.

“Your mouth,” Cedar said quietly, wiping away some of the blood that trickled down his face, but he shook his head and licked it up. Kargorr had suffered far worse, and this suffering was special—blood shed for his affection, for his one and only.

He brought the necklace to her throat, where he wound it around her neck and tied it at the back. That perfect throat, long and slender, that always held up her head so proudly. He let the necklace fall to her chest before sliding his hand up to her cheek.

Cedar was beautiful this way, cast in the light of the fire, her eyes huge and round as she took in what he had given to her. Her dress cradled her broad belly, and he knew his orcling was getting closer, so much closer, to life.

“You are mine,” Kargorr repeated, leaning down toward her. He kissed her forehead, and then her nose, taking in the scent of her that always awakened his cock. It was already growing thick in its sling, imagining how they might celebrate later.

“And I,” he continued, pausing with his lips only inches from hers. “I am yours.”

When he kissed her, he gave her everything in that kiss. Lord Kargorr told his yapira that he belonged to her, and to their children, and to their children’s children. The world he intended to create would exist in her honor, as his gift to her and the orclings she bore him. And when the time came that he and Cedar withered like trees in winter, they would lie together in their graves, their hearts rising up to the stars as one—a single flame vanishing into the everlasting night.

Thank you for reading!

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