32
AERHRIL HAD NEVER been to Bilkwood, but then she had not done a great deal of traveling in her life, beyond from Renegahan to Foxglove Peak and back again.
Though she sometimes looked out of the windows on the train to see the countryside she passed, the woods of the Silvarenna or the rolling fields of the Vale, as the train chugged its way north or south, she had never had the chance to explore anywhere else.
Dathor had never been to Bilkwood either.
The castle was tucked away in a dark wood, and the carriage traveled over a narrow road for many hours, until the sun went down, and it was difficult to see out of the carriage’s windows.
Eventually, they saw a light up ahead, and then the trees began to clear out, and there was a rush of a river running through the wood.
A wide, wide bridge, wide enough for six carriages to go across at once, rose up over the river.
It gleamed in the light of the moon and the round hanging lights that descended all around, from tree branches.
They drove over the bridge and peered out the windows, first at the river, rushing far below, and then at the castle itself, across the bridge, because it was like nothing either of them had ever seen.
Bilkwood was build right into the mountain, carved directly into the rock there.
There were a number of glowing lights illuminating the towers that had been carved directly into the face of the mountain, graceful turrets with pointing spires, each reaching high into the heavens.
A waterfall rushed past the castle, tumbling down into the river.
The entire palace was encased in towering fir trees.
Aerhril could not help but gasp at the sight of it.
Its beauty caught in her throat, different than the architecture of the nae Oir in some secret and silver way, something she could not quite put her finger on, but something that made her ache, even so, ache like the look of the sun rising over the cliffs around the Peak. This land, it took root in a body.
She gaped as she leaned forward on her seat, looking through the window to drink in the sight of it.
And an orc moved past, momentarily blocking her view, and then another, and then she saw them all over the grounds, holding spears and revolvers.
She drew back in dismay, unable to help herself from feeling as if something was very wrong, as if some sacred domain had been invaded by something monstrous.
Dathor saw, and he only smiled, one of those smiles she had grown used to seeing on his face.
They belonged to each other, yes, but that did not mean everything was easy between them.
When she got out of the carriage, she could feel the imprint of his cock in her. When he’d urged her to take him again, she had wanted it, liking their joining, liking his claiming, liking the intensity of his desire for her.
When they were connected in that way, there was a feeling she would float in and out of, a feeling of slipping in and out of each other on some other dimension, and a feeling of dual possession—he possessed her, she possessed him. It made her feel luminous in some way.
The soreness she’d felt hadn’t diminished it, not when it was happening. It had added this other undercurrent to their lovemaking. It had made it feel all the more real and intense and true and she had not minded, not at all.
But it hurt now, and it was unpleasant. She scolded herself, saying that she must not let him have her again until she was recovered. But if he asked her like that again, his voice low and urgent, she was not sure she would be able to say no to him.
The orcs stepped forward. They spoke to Dathor, but they spoke in the orc language, and she could not understand what they were saying.
Dathor spoke it haltingly. He paused often as if searching for words. He would have only had a few years to have learned it.
The orcs turned to look at her at one point, and then they gestured with their heads for Dathor to follow him.
He turned to her. “You are being taken to my chambers, Aerhril, your trunk, too. Try, if you can manage it, to simply be quiet and undemanding. I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”
Quiet and undemanding. What was it, exactly, that he thought of her?
But an orc took her by the arm and two other orcs came to pull her trunk off the back of the carriage.
“This way, my lady,” said the orc, though there was an undercurrent to his tone.
She was taken through all sorts of hallways and up twisting stairways. Eventually, she was deposited in a large room, a room that might befit a traveling dignitary. It had its own connected bathing room with a built in tub.
The carpet was thick and deep blue. The bed was vast and swathed in a deep blue shimmering blanket. She sat down on it while the orcs deposited her trunk. They left her there, and she sat in the vast room, wondering why it was that Dathor warranted a room like this.
A knock sounded on the door, and it startled her.
Who even knew she was here?
“Hello?” Her voice wavered. Dathor wanted her to keep a low profile, she knew. He did not wish her to be a problem for him in any way.
“Hello, may I enter?” said the voice. “It’s the Envivtaintess nae Bilkwood.”
“Oh,” said Aerhril, getting to her feet and hurrying over to answer the door. “Of course you may.”
The elf on the other side of the door was not much older than Aerhril. She had long dark hair braided around her head like a crown and she smiled at her. “Hello,” she said again. “I heard you are a willing one, too.”
Aerhril tilted her head to one side, confused.
“I mean, with the orcs?” said the woman.
“I’m Larha. I was married to the old envivtain for only two months before the orc High Chieftain and his forces came and invaded.
They came straight into the main dining room.
And I know I was supposed to be frightened and horrified, and I really should have been, because they did stab my husband, and he did die.
And I liked him, my husband, I liked him quite a great deal, I really and truly did.
It was a shock, I suppose. But before they stabbed him, and in front of all the servants, one of the orcs lay me right down on the table and… ” She let out a little sigh.
“Right, well, I know about this,” said Aerhril. “That is what they do. It happened to me, too, only I was in the middle of getting married.”
“In front of everyone?” said Larha, eyes wide.
“Well, I was sort of blocked from view because of how wide an orc body is,” said Aerhril. She didn’t truly wish to talk about this, she found, and she thought that Larha’s reaction to it all was a bit odd.
“So, you do not enjoy being watched?” said Larha, sounding disappointed to discover this. Then she shrugged. “However, you are willing with your orc? That is what I have heard? Or did he simply kidnap you and bring you all the way from the tippiest top of the north?”
“I don’t know if it’s the tippiest top,” said Aerhril. “There’s quite a bit of north above us, you know.”
“Oh, apologies,” said Larha with a shrug. “Well, anyway, my late husband, he was older than me by quite a bit, and his, you know… At any rate, it was just so different with the orc. So, um, thick.”
Aerhril could not contain the smile that wanted to stretch across her face. “You are simply appreciative of that aspect of it all, then?”
“Oh, I am,” said Larha. “Why? Do you like yours for some other reason?”
Aerhril did not know where to begin. She opened her mouth to say something, but then nothing quite came out before Larha was speaking again.
“I was truly hoping you would understand, but it is no matter if you do not,” said Larha. “I hope we can be friends anyway. Some of the other elf women have been quite cruel to me about my choice to, erm, entertain the orcs.”
“Orcs, as in more than one?” said Aerhril.
“I have been sort of passed around.” Larha’s voice got a little throaty.
Aerhril raised her eyebrows, saying nothing at all.
“Oh, you’re judging me,” said Larha.
“I’m… not,” said Aerhril. “That only sounds a bit unpleasant.”
“It has not been,” said Larha. “Not at all. I like it, and I like them, and I was truly hoping you would understand. You must tell me about what it is like with your orc, I suppose?”
“Well, it’s a long story,” said Aerhril. “I’m not sure how to sum it all up.”
“I see,” said Larha. “Well, because I let them pass me around, they are all rather nice to me, and I get to stay in my old chambers and they let me do mostly as I like. Maybe it’s like that for you? Maybe that’s why you’re willing? Maybe you’re just taking advantage of what you can.”
“No, it’s not like that,” said Aerhril. “I know him.” Was she allowed to tell people this? She wished she’d had more instruction from Dathor about it. “We grew up together. We were together when we were young.”
“He’s not from Arzakh?”
“He went there. He had to go across the Rathog Pass.”
“Oh,” said Larha. “So, then you are willing because you are on their side.”
Aerhril waited, worried that would not be well received.
But Larha only laughed, that delighted laugh of hers. “Well, then you and I will get along fine, I think. We will be friends. Say we can be friends?”
Aerhril smiled. “Of course.”
“Wonderful,” said Larha. “Now, about yours. He doesn’t pass you around to the others at all?”
“Definitely not,” said Aerhril. “He’s possessive of me.”
Larha nodded, eyes wide. “I think Nasrakh, he’s the one who took my virtue, would like to be possessive, but I’m glad he’s not, because it would be sort of boring to only have one of them—well, obviously, not for you.
And they told all the other elf women—they left alive the women—that they could choose to be with the orcs in that way, and very few of them did, so I am one of the only ones they have access to. ”
“I see, and did they let you choose?” said Aerhril.
“Not the first time, but after,” said Larha. “Anyway, we can talk of something else besides orc cock. What about dresses? Did you bring dresses in that trunk?”