8. Chapter 8
Chapter eight
S ahginoth was already awake the next morning when Gyrda rose from her bed. He was usually a late sleeper, and she blinked in surprise to see him up and dressed before her. He nodded to her sharply, his gaze slipping away from her as he cooked breakfast, his cheeks darkening as if he blushed. She sat up, wincing slightly at the twinge of pain between her legs.
She bit back a smile. He might be too big to fit comfortably, but she'd give anything to feel him inside her again. He seemed so stiff and uncomfortable this morning, perhaps embarrassed by what they'd done. She hoped not regretful. She regretted nothing, and if he did, she wasn't sure how she'd be able to face him every day.
She donned a few warmer layers and sat beside him by the fire, smiling at him as he passed her a plate of fried fish. His cheeks darkened again, the corner of his mouth twitching up. They ate in silence, their usual morning routine.
He didn't seem regretful. Her nervousness eased. "What do we do today?" she asked.
He looked at her sharply, and she thought she saw lust flare in his eyes for a moment before his usual stoic expression fell over his face.
"Hunters said there's a good herd of mountain sheep a day's trek away. We could make a good kill, enough to last until the next full moon," he said loudly.
She nodded. She didn't relish the idea of a long hike when her most intimate muscles were still sore, but the meat would make up for what they'd given to the nearby clan. And she wouldn't mind spending time with him, away from the village. She never minded spending time with him.
They pulled on their coats and boots and packed the sled with their weapons and bed rolls, setting off as the sun rose over the snow-capped peaks. As usual, they hiked in silence, the snow glittering around them, their hoods pulled low over their eyes to protect from the glare of the sun.
They paused at midday to share travel rations of dried meat and nearly frozen cheese. Gyrda wanted to ask Sahginoth about the previous night, if perhaps she should not have left him for her own bed, if perhaps he wished to lie together again, but he seemed lost in thought, frowning out over the slopes.
"Ready?" he grunted, barely looking at her. Gyrda shoved the rest of her food in her mouth and followed him as he stood, pulling the empty sled behind him. The sun slowly dipped towards the horizon, the air cooling as they hiked down towards the last sighting of the herd.
Following the hunters' directions, they descended into a long valley lined with evergreen trees. By the time they'd passed through half of it, the sunlight was nearly gone, and they stopped for the night. Sahginoth dug a sleeping burrow into the deep snow beneath a tree while Gyrda gathered firewood and made a small fire. They ate another small meal in the darkness, warming themselves beside the fire before crawling into the den he'd made.
Surrounded by snow and protected from the wind, it was warm and comfortable. They unrolled their sleeping furs, laying them side-by-side to share body warmth as they always did on a hunting trip. Sahginoth lay on his side, his knees tucked up in the small space. Gyrda curled against him, pushing the hood of her coat back from her face.
The world seemed to fall away, their small space together all that existed in the cold night as she looked up at him, searching for his features in the darkness. The words she'd been turning over and over in her mind all day now would not come, but she still wanted. She still desired.
She could barely see him, the glow of the fire outside their burrow at his back. He always put his back to the opening, to the cold, shielding her from the chill of the night wind. He'd done it every hunting trip, and she'd thought nothing of it, but now she wondered if it meant something more.
He was not the type of male to show his feelings freely, to speak of them easily. He was the type to show his caring in ways like this. He protected her. He let himself be cold while she was warm.
It was a solid, dependable sort of love, and she hungered for it.
Gyrda pulled off her mittens and reached up, fingers tracing over his bundled form, seeking his face. She felt his breath against her palm and she pressed her hand to his cheek, smoothing her thumb over his chipped tusk, his lower lip. She leaned forwards, bold in the darkness, and kissed him.
He kissed her back instantly, his tongue slipping past her lips as he wrapped his arms around her. She sighed in relief, in triumph, feeling the quiet rumble of his growl against her lips as he pressed her onto her back, rolling over her. She spread her legs around his hips, whimpering at the feel of his hard cock rubbing over her sex despite the layers of winter clothing.
His hands fumbled at the front of her coat, pulling the fasteners free and delving beneath. He pushed her tunic up, tugging at the binding around her breasts as she arched her back into his touch.
She was already wet, already so close to release. She raised her hips so that he ground his cock between the lips of her sex, directly over her bud. She could feel the heat of him through their pants, his sheer size leaving her breathless yet again. She was achingly empty, desperate for him to tear off her clothes and sink inside her. She was certain she would not even feel the cold with his huge warm body braced above hers, covering her, filling her, driving her towards pleasure.
He yanked at her bindings, pulling them down to her waist and groping her breasts roughly. Her nipples peaked from the cold and his eager touch and he pinched them, tugging at them until she cried out. His hips ground more quickly against hers, her wetness soaking her leggings as he nipped at her lips, played with her breasts.
"Please," she moaned, her hands stealing under his coat and reaching for the waist of his pants. "Please."
He stilled, his whole body tensing. "What--" she began to ask, but he released her breast and pressed his hand over her mouth.
In the faint glow of the fire, she could see him cock his head as if he was listening for something. A chill ran down her spine as he eased slowly away from her, pressing his hand harder to her mouth before releasing her, as if he were trying to impress upon her the importance of silence. He disentangled his limbs from hers, crawling to the mouth of their little den. His large form blocked all the light for a second and she shivered, fear creeping through her as she followed him.
He crept out of the den, frowning when he saw her following. He held up a hand, silently ordering her to stay, and pulled the hunting knife from his boot as he moved away from the firelight, into the shadows between the trees.
She knew he didn't want her to move from the den, but it was only a little cave carved from the snow and provided no protection from anything but the cold, so Gyrda moved slowly towards the sled they'd left by the fire, untying her bow and quiver and nocking an arrow. She crouched, peering into the darkness, but she could see nothing but Sahginoth's hulking form moving slowly through the trees around their little camp. She wanted to ask what he feared, but he would have to shout for her to hear, and it seemed silence was of the essence.
He looked back at her. She could not make out his expression in the dark, but he held out his hand again, ordering her to stay, and she nodded. He crept further into the trees. Without realizing, she held her breath.
A beastly roar shook the valley and Gyrda started. If it was loud enough for her to hear clearly, that could not be a good sign. She ran in the direction she'd seen Sahginoth move, branches whipping at her face as she stumbled through the deep snow, following his footsteps in the near blackness. She could see movement ahead, and more growls and roars rumbled through the trees.
She emerged into a small clearing, the bright moon overhead illuminating the struggle before her. Sahginoth rode the back of a giant white bear, his arms locked around its neck as he drove his knife into its thick hide over and over. Gyrda's breath caught. An ice bear. They spent most of the cold months on the glaciers further south. There should be none roaming here so near their village, or so the orc hunters had taught her. They were creatures to be avoided, ruthless beasts who did not avoid humans as some of the other mountain predators did. Though she'd never seen one in the flesh, she knew instantly what it was. It was three times the size of the massive orc fighting it, its coat snowy white, its claws wickedly long and black.
It crashed against trees, trying to throw Sahginoth off, its paws swiping at his arms around its neck. The snow around them was trampled and spotted black with blood. She raised her bow and let an arrow fly. The point stuck in the creature's side but didn't seem to slow or injure it. The bear turned to her, its sharp-toothed maw spread wide as it bellowed in anger.
"No!" Sahginoth shouted. "Run!"
The bear shook and he fell to the snow beside it. The bear took a step towards Gyrda but the orc leaped up and barreled into the beast's side, driving his hunting knife deep between the bear's ribs. The beast turned on him, ignoring Gyrda and knocking Sahginoth across the clearing with a swipe of its paw.
It would kill him. Hunters hesitated to approach ice bears in groups of six or less, and he was only one orc. She tossed her bow and quiver aside, the arrows clearly useless against a creature so large. There had to be something she could do.
Gyrda turned and raced back to the camp, tearing Sahginoth's spear from the sled and running back towards the fight. The orc was still slicing away at the monster, but his movements were slow, one arm held tight to his stomach and blood seeping through his coat as he staggered away from the creature's claws.
Gyrda lunged, driving the spear into the bear's flank. It roared, turning from Sahginoth for a moment. She wrenched the spear free as the orc stabbed the creature's neck, blood gushing out over his hand. The beast knocked him back, pinning him to the ground with a paw, its claws sinking deep into his chest despite the winter layers he wore. Gyrda could hear his scream of pain, his bellow for her to run again, escape while she could. She ignored him and drove the spear into the bear's side, aiming between its ribs for the heart.
The bear staggered away from Sahginoth as she pulled the spear out and stabbed it back in, her shoulders burning with the strain, the creature's hide so thick she had to use all her strength. It lumbered towards her, its pale fur streaked with blood and its gait slightly uneven from its wounds. She slashed at it with the sharp tip of the spear, catching one eye and blinding it. It reared on its hind legs, claws slicing towards her. She raced forwards, the spear sinking into the animal's stomach. She could feel its claws tearing through the back of her coat, their sharp points like knives against her skin. She rolled out of the way as the bear lowered, the spear shaft snapping underneath it's weight. It bellowed in pain as the tip dug further into its abdomen and rounded on her with a desperate snarl.
She was unarmed. She stumbled back through the snow as the beast charged her. Sahginoth dragged himself up with a roar, launching himself onto the bear's back, driving his knife into its neck again, trying to sever its veins so it would bleed out. The creature reared again. He hung onto its fur desperately, its back the only place he was partly safe from its claws. His knife fell to the snow and Gyrda lunged for it, the hilt bloody and slick in her hand. The bear slammed down, the trees trembling around them, snow falling from their branches. She could see Sahginoth squeezing its neck tightly and the creature groaned, its voice weak as he choked it. She approached from the side where she'd sliced the bear's eye, hoping it was fully blind and could not see her. It continued to thrash in the orc's grip, but Sahginoth seemed to be weakening, his face contorted in exertion and pain. Raising the hunting knife, she struck, stabbing deep through the beast's ruined eye, into its brain.
The bear shuddered, swiping at her and knocking her to her knees. Gyrda twisted the knife. The beast slumped, twitching a few times as it collapsed into the snow. She gasped in a breath, her hands trembling. Alive. They were both alive.
Sahginoth slipped from the bear's back, falling towards her. She tried to catch him, but he was too heavy, knocking her to her backside in the snow as he collapsed to the ground. His chest heaved, blood soaking through his coat where the animal's claws had raked him, and for the first time she saw the wounds on his abdomen.
The ice bear's claws had torn through his coat and tunic and into his skin. Deep gashes streaked across his stomach, blood pooling from them. The moon's light was too faint to see how deep they were. His hand shook as he pressed it to his stomach, trying to staunch the flow. It was useless.
His coat was in tatters, bloody claw marks scored into his arms and neck. He coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as he looked up at her. She cradled his head in her lap, her vision blurring as tears filled her eyes.
"Why?" she asked, unsure who she spoke to, or what she meant. It was the only word on her mind. Why now? Why him? Why this?
"Protect you," he said. He must have been trying to speak loudly, but she could barely hear him, his voice weakening. She wiped her eyes free of tears so she would be able to watch his lips when he spoke, but she still barely caught the next words. "Won't make it," he gasped. "Go."
"Go?" she asked. "You want me to go?" He nodded slightly, his teeth bared in pain. "Go where?"
"Village," he growled.
"For help?" she asked. "It would take too long to get back to you. You'd freeze."
He shook his head. "Go," he insisted.
"Not without you," she sobbed, wiping her tears again on the sleeve of her coat. "I'm not leaving you."
"Yes," he hissed, his bloody hands closing tightly around hers. "Go."