Page 118 of The Orc Warrioress and the Elf Lord

“Goblins is always trouble,” said Rimli, holding out his hand to help Gathren out of the rowboat.

“This is what I said,” said Gathren, shaking her head at Iahir.

“All right, all right,” said Iahir, spreading his hands. “We’ve established it was a bad idea to trade with goblins. Lesson learned. I admit I was wrong. This is the last time, however. If anyone wishes to punish me for this, do it now. In the future, I will deny I have done anything wrong.”

“Oh, I shall punish you for it, my lord,” she said. “I have a great deal of ideas in mind for how to teach you a lesson.”

“Oh, gods, cap’ns,” groaned Rimli. “Can the two of you not keep that sort of talk behind closed doors?”

“Swinging a sword always gets her a little worked up,” said Iahir.

“We’ll be in our cabin,” she said. “Don’t disturb us.”

“Hoist the anchor?” said Doin.

“Oh, yes, get as far away from this place as possible,” said Iahir. He reached back to take her hand.

She smiled at him.

“Shall we, warrioress?”

“We shall, my lord,” she said.

THE LAST TIME the two of them had been in Lothnehil, things had not been going too well.

There had been a treaty reached between the orcs and elves, and a government had been established that would have representatives from each of the races. This had been a triumph of both Marthlis and Larhil and some of the others, as Iahir understood it.

But it hadn’t been much of a triumph, because it had hardly lasted seven months before some Cirdan elf had come in with armies from the north, thrown them all out, and settled himself in the castle there, where he ruled—not as the High King, but as what was called the Prime Custodian.

The Prime Custodian of Lothnehil was, even now, engaged in some kind of war campaign to go and take over all the lands of the world for Lothnehil. Iahir had even heard that he might be calling himself an emperor these days.

But the good thing about this was that the Prime Custodian, or emperor as the case may be, was leading an army of mixed orcs and elves across the seas, two peoples fighting for the same country, and there was a certain kind of kinship amongst the races now, something that there hadn’t been before.

Of course, Iahir supposed it helped that half of the keeps in the north (and some in the south) were run by orc-elf couples, though they almost always went the other way—an elf woman and an orc man. He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Now, he was fumbling around for a sheath for his cock, because they never did it without one anymore.

There had been an incident three months before. It had been his fault, obviously, because he was the one who was supposed to make sure he pulled out. He hadn’t.

Some part of him might have wanted to have gotten her with child, he thought, but it became quite clear, as they waited in breathless agony for her bleeding to come, that she was very sure that she never wanted a child, and the discussions they had about it brought him right around to her way of thinking about it.

Where did a child fit in their lives, really? How would they raise a child on a ship? The child would have no other children to be with, no chance for schooling, and no real future. For the child, the ship would be a sort of prison, and what would happen once the child was grown? And furthermore, did they really want to be up doing feedings at all hours, and changing nappies and picking up every small object off the ship’s deck that a child could choke on?

He had gazed at her breasts for too long and thought about the feedings, and she had taken him by the chin and said that if she had to feed a child with these, they would not be for his pleasure anymore, nor would they be for her pleasure, they would simply be tools to accomplish a task, and he knew she was right, but… but… well, she was right. The disadvantages of her being with child outweighed the advantages, and she was very intelligent about the entire thing, and he didn’t want anything about their lives to change.

They were both relieved when she bled.

Now, they always used the sheath.

“No,” she said, imperious. “You are not getting that cock of yours anywhere near my quim, not until you have entirely made up for this goblin fiasco.”

“Oh?” he said, smiling at her.

“Oh,” she said. “Use your mouth, my lord. And do a very good job, because I am in no mood for anything except appeasement at this juncture. I did not want to spend my evening stabbing goblins.”

“Yes, warrioress,” he said, his smile widening. “I would count myself privileged to lick you there.”

“Of course you would.”