The Missing Dragon Ch. 04

"Yeah, well, I have a lot of nice distractions to keep me occupied. Not to mention some very not-nice ones that occasionally nearly get me killed. But thanks for talking to me about it."

Talina nodded and Gregory found himself grateful that she'd kept the conversation going. It allowed him to concentrate on her words rather than her body and his morning flag-pole was no longer threatening to tear open his trunks.

They found Torren flopped over on his bed inside his tent, snoring up a storm.

"He doesn't seem to do that when I'm with him. It's rather sweet, don't you think?" Talina flashed him a smile before going to wake up her slightly oversized lover.

It took several minutes during which Torren sleepily smiled and lifted his huge arms up to wrap around the slender woman before pulling her into bed with him. Gregory stifled a laugh as Talina squeaked out a little cry of alarm at being flung off her feet. She then remedied the problem by blowing out a lungful of air into Torren's face that shocked him so much he flung her from his grip and wobbled a bit on the edge of the bed before falling face first onto the floor.

Talina gave him an encouraging smack on his sizeable rear end.

"Get up! Master is here."

"Mawha?" Torren lifted his head up to rub his nose and look around before laying eyes on Gregory.

Gregory waved amiably.

Torren shot up to his feet as quickly as his sizeable bulk could manage before snatching up some furs from the bed to wrap around his waist. At first Gregory hadn't quite seen the attraction between the pair of them, but it was clear from that glance that much of Torren's extra bulk was comprised of muscle as much as fat. He could probably have propped up a bridge if he had a mind to.

"Master! Bloody hell! I'm sorry! I've slept too much! I'll get to work right—"

"Easy there, metal-head." Gregory's tone was gentle despite the new nickname that Talina seemed immediately delighted with. "It's sunrise. You're not supposed to be working. I'm here because the lady brought me."

Torren looked questioningly at Talina, who pointed at a protruding object near the bed that was covered in linen cloth. A light seemed to ignite behind Torren's eyes and he tied his furs up firmly around him to free his hands. Then he picked up the large cloth covered item and walked over to Gregory.

"This is for you. For the provings," he said.

"Huh? Wow, thanks." Gregory took the offering and peeled away the linen wrapping to reveal the gift.

He found himself holding a large kite shield that initially seemed to be made out of a wicker-like structure of interwoven vine threads. He flipped over the curved surface and saw the back had been braced with a seemingly far more sturdy criss-cross of blackened orc-metal bracers. The result was very light to hold, and Gregory couldn't resist the urge to try and bend the curve a little more.

"Wow, it doesn't budge an inch," he observed.

"Of course not, master. It's a shield." Torren looked at him as if he may have missed the point completely.

"No, I know. I just meant that I've seen this sort of structure before used on furniture. It's firm but usually bendy. This feels more like it's been made from iron."

"Ah! I see. No, the outer work is something Valise taught me. She weaves these containers out of certain plant roots and vines. I didn't really think much of them until someone stumbled into her stall one day and she used one to contain what I guess would have been quite an explosion when her potions mixed together."

"Shit," Gregory spun the shield over again and looked at the tightly-packed lattice structure. "It's that strong?"

"Stronger. I asked her how she made them. It's treated with one of her potions, but it's also something to do with using the right materials from the right plants and trees. Quite complicated, but it'll stop a charging bull in its tracks if it's braced properly. Valise helped me work on that one. I added some mountain metal to give it a bit of extra strength too. I thought from the way you fight you wouldn't want to get too weighed down."

"Torren, thanks man. This is fantastic." Gregory slipped the shield onto his forearm and tested the weight. It was damn near perfect. "Is there anything I can give you in return?"

The bulky smith's mouth fell open in shock at that question. Talina smoothly stepped up beside him and used her index finger to playfully push his jaw back up into place before turning to Gregory.

"Perhaps you might try not getting yourself too badly beaten in the next proving match?" she suggested.

Greg smiled and held up his new shield. "It's a deal."

"Then Torren will be pleased." She patted the big guy on the shoulder and lifted herself to her tiptoes to give his cheek a kiss.

This made Torren turn immediately, and Talina quickly pressed her advantage by taking his lips against hers and wrapping her arms across his shoulders.

Gregory watched with amusement the two lovers descend into a healthy tongue duel in front of him.

"So, I'll just be going then." He stepped back to the tent opening.

"Mrylp!" Talina waved goodbye over Torren's shoulder.

Gregory left them to their morning business and stepped out into the camp.

* * * * *

His new shield immediately proved its worth later that morning. After spending an hour in the eager company of Fiona and Lydia, he presented himself at the provings. The orcs openly laughed at his new shield, thinking the concept of hiding behind something to be a sign of cowardice. There was seemingly no time to waste upon defensive thinking when glory and honour awaited. Thankfully, Ulag deemed it acceptable for him to fight with the shield. He didn't seem to mind the pups bringing their own made weapons so long as there were no sharp edges or any armour that would give a ridiculously unfair advantage. It was fine to have their armour refitted, but they couldn't show up in a full suit of heavy plate mail.

The shield wasn't deemed overly protective, though it was certainly something that he had to adjust to since his own fighting training didn't exactly include an effective use of medieval weaponry. Even so, the assurance that he could block incoming blows made him less fearful and able to stand his ground with most of the other pups.

Unfortunately, his own martial techniques were his biggest problem in successfully coming out of the proving grounds without a sound beating. The Runts were shockingly bad at playing the brutal war games. Ulla was utterly uncontrollable. Even though she often put at least one member of the opposition down in the dirt, she was easily cornered and outnumbered by her insistence of fighting on her own. Both Nullik and Frelki both tried their damnedest to make an impact, but they often sacrificed their innate agility for orc-favoured brute force charges that usually ended with a much larger orc stomping them into the dirt. Wrut could have been a very dangerous opponent but his insistence on using one of the large unbalanced clubs as opposed to the smaller ones often left him open to flanking attacks from his armless side. Most of the matches ended with the stout and sturdy Frun fighting alongside Ulf and Gregory. They also usually ended up badly outnumbered by that point, leading to quite a few painful thrashings.

It went on and on like that for three weeks before Gregory stormed back into the camp one night and flung his shield away in a fit of frustrated rage. It cut through the air powered by brute force to embed itself in a large empty crate set on the outskirts of the encampment. A few human slaves were the only ones out that night due to the light haze of rain pouring down from the cloudy skies. They looked at Gregory and tactfully slipped away into their own tents leaving him alone standing in the mud with only the embers of the campfire for company.

He made for his own tent and stopped when he felt a hand settle upon his shoulder. It was cool, slender and quite firm in its grip. Gregory whirled around almost knocking Valise to the ground in the process. The woman deftly kept her feet and her bright blue eyes shone coldly in the remaining light of the fire.

That took a lot of the anger from his belly and he quickly held up his hand in an apologetic gesture.

"Valise, I'm sorry. I didn't hear you behind me and I've had a very bad day." He brought his hand back and wiped his rain-dampened face.

Her gaze softened and she gave him a polite nod in response.

"That is understandable. Forgive my approach. I sensed you were troubled."

"There's nothing to forgive. And I am troubled." He walked over to where his shield had embedded in the wood and yanked it free. "Every day I go down there and all it just feels like I'm accomplishing about as much as I'd manage by going to hit my head on Torren's anvil for the afternoon."

"Knowing you, my Gregory, I think the anvil would break before sunset." Valise stepped forward and placed her hand upon his bare chest.

"It doesn't feel like I'm about to break the provings, Valise." He looked down to her hand and felt the familiar twinge of attraction despite his truly foul mood.

"I didn't mean that. I simply meant you are quite hard headed." She smiled up at him and gave his hard head a gentle tap with her knuckles. "An anvil wouldn't stand a chance."

"Oh great. Usually when I see you I know I'm in for a few hours of amazing sex. You picked now to start being a wiseass?" He checked the bottom of the shield and saw he hadn't damaged the freakishly strong materials it was made from.

"I shall mock when I see fit." She lowered her hand and lightly flicked the tip of his nose with an immaculately manicured fingertip. "And what on earth made you think that you wouldn't be in for a few hours of amazing sex now?"

"Like I said, I've had a very bad day. Believe it or not I'm still not quite used to stunning women coming up and offering themselves to me out of the blue." He glanced over Valise as he stepped toward her to take her against him.

She was utterly radiant even with the dull sky overhead and the rain smattering down upon her. The water deepened the yellow sunshine from her hair into a rich, golden hue that fell down over one shoulder in a thick braid. Her features gleamed with raindrops cascading over porcelain features carrying her natural grace and ageless wisdom along with an unearthly elfin beauty. The usual white robe in which she glided around the camp had begun to cling to her slender figure and show that she wasn't wearing a slip of clothing beneath. She did not aim to cover herself as the tips of her breasts pointed up against the thin material, or clung to the cleft between her thighs. Instead she accepted his advance with open arms and slid her hands across the young male's muscular shoulders to bring his talented lips to her own.

They kissed with the passion of new lovers and the experience of old friends. Algra was a warrior born, and a part of him always loved the challenge of impressing her. Janette had been his long time ideal woman, and he was still slightly dazzled by her. Lydia and Fiona were playmates and companions, sharing each other perhaps more than friends should but lacking the deeper connections that came with true love.

Valise was the only woman he felt completely himself with. He could relax in her embrace for days, and pleasure her for nights on end. Her wisdom and experience were far out of his league, and yet when she shared her body with his he felt she longed for the connection just as much as he did.

When they came together it wasn't long before she felt her robe being lifted up over her slender legs. It surprised her, for though Gregory was an apparently insatiable male when it came to such acts, he didn't seem the exhibitionist type.

"Here? Out in the middle of the camp?" she asked him, pulling away from his lips and setting loving little kisses along his cheek between her words.

"Yes. No one's around and you look so damn gorgeous in the rain. I want you here." He purred the words like a young lion ready to take its mate.

"What if someone should look upon us?" Valise asked even as she lowered her hands between them to help him tug his trunks down over his hardening member.

"Then they will be jealous," he said as he slipped his hands onto her flanks and lifted her off her bare feet to settle her back against a large stack of crates.

* * * * *

"I'm jealous," Janette said from inside the tent as she peeked out from between the folds of the entrance.

Algra grunted curiously from where she laid naked on the furs of their bed and lifted her gaze to glance up at the girl. It was a pleasing sight to see Janette bent over slightly to sneak a look out into the camp to spy on whomever was out there. She was wearing a thin veil covering over her legs. It was sheer enough that Algra could make out the smooth muscles of those supple thighs and calves along with the delightful twin curves of her peachy rump.

"Gregory is out there!" Janette turned to Algra and whispered loudly enough that she could be easily heard across the large pavilion.

"He has returned?" Algra tilted her head, lifting herself up from the bed slightly.

"Yes, and he's out there nailing Valise to the furniture!" Janette resumed her peeking.

Algra suppressed a smile and watched as the feisty redhead's bum wiggled intensely.

"It is his right," Algra noted.

"Yeah, but don't you think he should be in here nailing one of us to the furniture?" Janette looked up from her spy-hole with a note of worry in her expression.

"You should ask."

"What?"

"He is yours. He must keep you happy. If you want him, ask to be claimed."

"You want me to go out there, pat him on the shoulder and say: 'Scuse me, but could you put her down for a second and pin me up there instead?"

Algra shrugged noncommittally.

"How can you be so calm about it? Doesn't it ever get to you a little?" Janette asked, finally stepping away from the canopy to stride over to where Algra laid upon the bed.

"What?" The orc reached out for the approaching human girl and fondly pulled her onto the bed with her.

"That he's with others?" Janette slipped into the bed alongside the emerald skinned warrior.

"No. I asked for his body. He gave it. I asked for his love. He gave it. I asked for him. He gave himself." Algra shrugged again and reached out to comfortingly run her hand over the curve of Janette's hip.

"Well I'm pretty sure Valise is loaning him out pretty well right about now." Janette glanced back to the entrance of the tent.

Algra paused to consider her answer to this. It truly did not bother her that Gregory was currently pleasuring another woman only a few yards away from where she laid. There was a part of him that was hers and hers alone, that no one could ever take. That was enough for her, for it was not a good thing to ever think you had the whole of someone to keep for yourself. It was... greedy.

"You make him happy," Algra finally said.

"Yeah, well again I think you'll find he's happy enough without me right at the minute." Janette pouted her lower lip.

"No." Algra firmly disagreed, shaking her head. "Valise make him wise. I make him strong. Your friends make him laugh. You make him happy."

Janette turned her gaze back upon Algra again and looked at the orc curiously. It was clear that she didn't quite have the words to eloquently say what she meant, but the meaning came across regardless.

"You make him happy too," Janette said.

"He look at me and want me. It is good. He respect me. It is also good. He love me. It is very good. He look at you and his eyes find new light. Do not fear where he puts his cock, red girl. We have his heart. It is a big heart, yes?"

Janette nodded slowly, her eyes glistened slightly in the candlelight.

"Good. Now, I am his mate and must help him with all his duties where it is needed. So, let me make you feel good." Algra slipped down the bed and pushed Janette onto her back.

Janette gasped when she felt the orc's tongue lash slowly up along her inner thigh and then begin to slowly swish across her lower petals.

Gregory would have been jealous.

* * * * *

Fortunately for Gregory, he was otherwise engaged in roughly ravishing the gorgeous woman he had pinned against hard wood. His hands grasped her bare backside and squeezed the firmness he found there with unyielding approval. Their lips snatched light kisses from each other as they rutted together, the soft moans of Valise being punctuated by the soft, wet noises of their contact.

He didn't hold back with her, and she felt every strain and thrust of his movements relieving him of the day's burdens and sending shockwaves of bliss through her body. Though her rear and her shoulders might have a few bruises come morning, she highly approved of such stress relief in her young master. His hard length pistoned inside her clutching sheath, and she felt him slam her body against the wood before his hot seed poured into her waiting channel. It triggered a sudden and powerful climax in the elf-woman, and her long legs tightened their grip on his lower back to keep him lodged firmly inside her through each gush of his sticky cream.

They didn't speak in the moments thereafter. Valise's head rested upon his shoulder and he took long, deep breaths with his eyes closed to savour that sweet moment and that incredible woman. Then he felt her lips on his skin, sliding up along his neck and across his cheek to take his lips. Their kiss was slow and gentle now, a massage of their mouths that built into a slow and smouldering caress of tongues.

Gregory's length twitched inside her again. Upon sensing another ravishing on the horizon, she gently pushed at his bare shoulders. He fought her at first, though only for a moment and only for more of her kiss. Eventually he relented and pulled back his head whilst remaining embedded inside her tight cleft. She smiled upon him, a beautiful and yet almost divine expression on those elfin features.

"Have I helped to quell your rage?" she asked.

"Maybe. Although I'm afraid you've lit a much larger fire in me, Valise." He returned her smile and stole a quick kiss from her lips like a thief in the night.

She looked down over him, his black hair falling around his face in long trusses, slickened by the rain. His sun-darkened skin looked incredible with the mix of rain water and sweat giving its own shine, even in the dim light offered by the early evening on such a murky day. Gregory had already been a remarkably fit specimen, but days in the provings had hardened those muscles to hot steel defined against his skin in a way that was almost mouth-wateringly appealing.

"That is well, but let us no longer linger here in the rain and the mud," she said with a slight quiver of pleasure in her voice.

"Oh? I quite like it. The background cold makes me want to cling to your heat." He have her bare rump another squeeze. "It makes me want to slide deeper into you."

It was difficult to argue with that logic. Especially when he punctuated the words by thrusting himself slowly right into her depths until she felt him pressing against her core.

"Please, my master. Take me to my tent. I wish to speak with you. This is hardly the place or the position for such things. Let me lay you down in my furs and there we may share our warmth further."

Gregory wanted her again in a much more immediate way. He had already rallied from his initial release, and was ready to have her there in the mud. Part of him knew he could. He could cast them both down and continue to rut like animals and her resolve would break. Strangely enough it was her hair that stopped him. In all fairness, he probably would have followed her request regardless in the end. Even at the height of his passions he would have done anything for the woman. Still, that wasn't the thought that stopped him. It was simply that it would have been a crime to soil that beautiful golden hair of hers in the dirt.