“Look what I found, Erik!” she said cheerfully, kneeling down before him. “Timo said this has your scent on it.”
Erik instantly brightened and snatched the mask from Cecily’s hand, flashing her a shy, worshipful smile before scampering off out the door. And Geva found herself smiling warmly at Cecily too, and squeezing gratefully at her shoulder.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” she said. “Are you off for the wall-climbing too?”
“Yes, of course!” Cecily said, with another swift, sunny smile. “Sune has promised to teach me the proper Skai way to do it, though Timo says he is only boasting. I ken I will see for myself, ach?”
Geva heartily agreed to that, and soon Cecily had dashed off again, leaving Geva still smiling fondly behind her. It had been odd, and perhaps a bit alarming, these past six months, to see how easily Cecily had fit into life at Orc Mountain — not only with her increasingly orcish vocabulary, but with how enthusiastically she’d embraced their school, and her cozy new room, and her adorable little black kitten, born from Cat, of course.
Cecily had also firmly identified as Ash-Kai, from her very first day at the mountain, even as she spent almost every free moment running about with Timo, Trygve, and Sune. And while Geva wanted to take credit for that, she knew it was also in large part due to Rathgarr, who had proven to be a consistently excellent caretaker — to the point where Cecily had begun calling himPa, even as she’d christened Geva herheart-sisterinstead.
“You don’t mind, do you?” she’d uncertainly asked Geva one day, with genuine concern in her eyes. “It’s only — I never knew my own Pa, but even though Mama’s gone, she’s still Mama, you ken?”
But Geva had only squeezed Cecily tight, and kissed the top of her head. “Whatever feels right to you, sweetheart,” she’d said firmly. “And I know Rathgarr will be thrilled.”
Rathgarr had indeed been thrilled, of course, and had taken to smugly speaking of his sweet, clever Ash-Kai daughter to anyone who would listen. And Geva had truly loved seeing them spending time together, playing and exploring the mountain together, and Cecily was already quite an impressive cook, thanks to multiple weekly dinners together with Rathgarr and Kesst, along with regular guidance from Alma, Gegnir, and Olga, too.
“Ach, is this all of you?” called a voice — Killik’s voice — from the next room, and when Geva went over to look, he was irritably waving at the group of chattering orclings gathered around him. “Who is missing? Erik?”
There was a squeak from across the room as Erik reappeared, his eye-mask clutched in his little claws, and soon Killik and Ulfarr were herding them all out the door, Cecily included. And while Geva usually still went along on the wall-climbing trips, and all the other ongoing morning exercises, today was an important day — the first-ever Orc Mountain Educational Exhibition. The name chosen by Rosa, of course, and the goal was to show all the orclings’ parents and caretakers everything they’d learned over the past six months.
And while Geva certainly wasn’t objective on this front, she couldn’t help but feel that the last six months had been a rather stunning success. The orclings’ language skills had already noticeably improved — not only in common-tongue and Aelakesh, but also in Skai sign language — and they’d continued their clan-directed studies of scenting, hunting, sparring, tracking, gardening, swimming, music, basic medicine, and oral history. They’d also added several new classes as well, including sewing, painting, tanning, and mushroom growing, and the older orclings had even begun to delve into more complicated Ka-esh endeavours like drafting and engineering.
As the months had passed, they’d also continued to combine multiple clans’ skills together, expanding upon what they’d already learned. One highlight had been a joint Grisk and Ka-esh project, scenting out old tunnels deep beneath the mountain, just like the ones Rathgarr’s hoard had been hidden in. This was followed by a Skai-Grisk spying assignment, where each orcling had been matched with an adult volunteer to follow and report upon — and thanks to Killik’s firm instructions to the volunteers, the orclings’ reports had been filled with hilarious antics and anecdotes, up to and including the captain standing on his head on top of the mountain.
And perhaps Geva’s favourite session of all had been a joint Ash-Kai, Grisk, and Ka-esh project, led by Rathgarr, Ella’s mate Nattfarr, and a cheerful Ka-esh smith named Gary. And together, they’d guided the class through the process of making a small piece of jewelry — first drawing a design, and then sourcing and preparing the metal, and then finally creating their pieces together in the Ka-esh forge.
The results had been undoubtedly mixed, but the orclings had all been delighted with their work, and some of their pieces had turned out to be genuinely impressive. The three little Ka-esh had made lovely matching gold bracelets, and Trygve had made a clever little clip that hooked onto one of his fangs, turning it bright silver when he smiled. While Timo had made a beautiful braided gold cuff, which he’d promptly presented to a startled-looking Sune, whose cheeks had flushed bright pink as he’d slipped it on.
And much to Geva’s astonishment, it had turned out that Rathgarr had secretly created a piece for her, too — a second wedding-ring. An elegant, shining gold band studded with tiny red stones, made to fit perfectly up against her first one, and seeming to set off the larger ruby even brighter than before.
“It is an old Ash-Kai custom, to make your mate’s wedding-ring,” Rathgarr had told her, with an almost shy-looking smile, as he’d held her hand up to the light, tilting it back and forth. “I could not do this for your first one, so I thought I could now make one to add to it.”
Geva had thrown her arms around him, and that night they’d danced in the Ash-Kai common-room until they’d both been sweaty and desperate, tearing off each other’s clothes. And then they’d made love right there on the furs in front of the fire, Geva riding Rathgarr while he’d bucked and moaned and praised her, his hands rubbing wide and possessive over her firm rounded belly.
That, of course, had been another new development, since Geva had indeed become pregnant after that memorable night at the Fitzwalds’. And while she’d perhaps expected Rathgarr to have strong feelings about their forthcoming son, she hadn’t quite anticipated the level of sheer Ash-Kai obsession that had followed. With Rathgarr constantly touching and speaking to her belly, while also taking an intense interest in her eating, sleeping, and exercise habits, and demanding appointments with Efterar and Gwyn on a regular basis. And sometimes, Geva would even catch him just sitting there looking at her, with a chilly, unnerving greed glittering in his eyes.
But after spending half a year as his mate, Geva had fully accepted that Rathgarrwasgreedy, and possessive, and utterly relentless. And while he no longer had a hoard to brood over, he behaved very similarly with the people he considered his — not only Geva and their unborn son, but also Kesst, Cecily, Abjorn, and Efterar, and to a lesser degree, their entire little school. Watching over it with almost fanatical care, ensuring the students were all safe and content and accounted for, and firmly under his watchful supervision, where they belonged.
But if Geva was honest with herself, she perhaps felt the exact same way, about all the same things. And there was still something deeply, darkly satisfying about having this huge, powerful, beautiful orc so incessantly devoted to her, so voracious to claim her as his, to clutch her firmly in his greedy, ravenous grasp… and then, sometimes, when he’d decided that she’d earned it, he would kneel and beg and flaunt himself for her, leaping at her every whim, gasping for her affection and her approval. Demonstrating the depths of his trust for her, in a way she knew he never had for anyone else.
And beyond that, she and Rathgarr were still just — in accord, on so many things. On the best way to run their school. On proper bathing and braiding and grooming. On their shared love for art and music and dancing and tales. On regularly enjoying simple pleasures like good meals with family and friends. And even on their little trove-room, which still housed the best remnants of Rathgarr’s hoard, including some lovely jewels, and his father’s old Ash-Kai dagger — but over the past months, they’d also begun to add other prized possessions, too. Beautiful tapestries and paintings, drums and instruments, books of pictures and tales, a few of Rathgarr’s childhood things that Kesst had kept for him, and multiple little gifts and trinkets from their students. And in the place of honour, a drawing Geva had commissioned all the way from her favourite artist in the capital, and it displayed Rathgarr and Kesst together, Rathgarr’s big arm slung over Kesst’s shoulder, both of them beaming with stunning, near-identical grins.
And speaking of Kesst — Geva frowned up from where she’d been organizing one of the tables for the exhibition — Rathgarr had gone to fetch Kesst some time ago, since Kesst had promised to help with the preparations while the students were outdoors. But neither of them had yet returned, and Geva had just begun to step toward the door when Rathgarr stalked in alone, his face pale, his mouth thin, his hands in fists. And most alarming of all, his shoulders were hunched high and stiff, in a way she hadn’t seen on him in months.
“What is it, love?” Geva said, genuinely alarmed, as she rushed over to meet him, stroking her hands up his chest. “What’s happened? Where’s Kesst?”
Rathgarr squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head, as a hard shudder rippled up his back. “In the sickroom,” he gritted out. “On… his knees. Before… Efterar. Who, I now ken, is built like a…”
Ah. That. Geva had also unwittingly discovered the astonishing magnitude of Efterar’s…intimate proportionsseveral months before, so she could well follow Rathgarr’s deeply felt shock on the subject. “That’s very unfortunate luck, love,” she murmured, wincing, as she kept firmly rubbing his chest, his shoulders, feeling him steadily soften beneath her touch. “But shouldn’t you have smelled one another early enough that you didn’t actually see —”
“Allof this,” Rathgarr groaned, dragging a clawed hand through his hair. “Ach. This was worse than the time I had to fetch Sigarr from the Ka-esh dungeon! And Sig was wieldingwhips, poppet!”
Geva bit back her smile, because yes, she’d indeed heard that tale too, from all sides — and most loudly of all had been from a deeply disgruntled Abjorn, who had apparently been goading Sigarr into the whips for weeks, only to have his long-awaited gratification destroyed by a highly affronted Rathgarr walking in.
But before Geva could attempt any further reassurances, Kesst stalked through the door too, his face just as pale as Rathgarr’s, his spine very straight. And with a dramatic flounce, he dropped into a chair at the nearest empty table, and glared viciously down toward it.
“I think it would be best,” he said crisply, “if we all forget this ever happened, and never, ever speak of it again.”
