The Missing Dragon Ch. 04

He did surprise her by refusing to release her from his their embrace. Instead of leaning back against the large crate, she was pulled against him and held aloft by the hands grasping her rear. His trunks hadn't descended along his legs far enough that he couldn't walk, and he carried her impaled upon his length across the way to her tent.

"Master, this is not exactly what I had in mind," Valise felt her cheeks flush with heat despite the slow pouring of cool rain.

"No? Well, you're proving to be the best part of a very bad day. I apparently don't have much in the way of pride or decency any more. I've had my face slammed in the dirt more times than I can count. So, if you think I'm letting you go now you're sorely mistaken. I need to take all the good moments I can get, when I can get them, for as long as I can have them." He settled a kiss onto her cheek that slowly traced his lips downward to nuzzle playfully along her jaw line.

"I'll have you know that I am an elven lady of some renown." She took on an overly formal and familiar teasing tone.

"I'm sure you'll have even more renown when people talk about the way you were carried across the camp with my cock inside you and your arse bared to the world." One of his hands released her rump and returned to it with a light smack.

"That's a shameful way to treat a lady." Valise was wearing a sultry smile that betrayed her true feelings on being displayed in such a way.

"Hmmm, fun though."

"I can't argue that point, oooh!" She was interrupted as he swished them both down and under the roof of her tent to cast her down on the furs and quickly scramble atop her.

Valise released a soft laugh that shifted abruptly into a low moan when he kissed her again and slid his aching length back inside her waiting body. They playfully wrestled a little, shifting their hips and inadvertently teasing each other as they both scrambled for different goals. He wanted her to lie back and let him have his way with her and she wanted to take the high ground. It was one of the few times in Gregory's life that he conceded the high ground when it became clear that it was what his opponent desired. They shifted about and Valise found herself atop him, her knees in the furs and her thighs resting against his hard, masculine figure.

Gregory was then treated to another spectacular sight when the woman reached down to her hips and pulled the now transparent robe she had been wearing over her head to cast away into the far side of her tent. With the woman finally and gloriously naked, he quietly revelled at the sight of her. Even then she still felt a hint of the nerves that had plagued her for centuries. As an elf, her ears were considered a distinctive part of her nature and the brutal slices in her own had made her feel somewhat hideous. Sitting naked astride that young and vigorous male, fully displayed for his appreciative gaze? It made her feel the absolute opposite of hideous. The joy of feeling his adoration upon her was almost enough to make her feel like one of her own people again. Almost.

For most of his sexually active life, Gregory's physical ideal of a perfect woman had been Janette. Even despite her treatment of him he'd always loved the shape of her body, the beauty of her face and the naturally seductive way she moved. This had given him something of an over-appreciation of women with large breasts and filled many of his intimate thoughts with Janette's huge boobs happily bouncing in his face. Having recently and frequently been given the privilege of experiencing what that was like in reality, he was beginning to branch out in the scope of what made his lusty nature stir.

Valise was something of a revelation in that department. Her slender figure and its gentle curves weren't something that would have caught his eye before, and yet now knowing what delights those curves allowed had made him take new stock of girls that weren't quite so well endowed. She was elegantly formed and beautifully sculpted, with smooth features that were damn near statuesque. That alabaster complexion of hers practically glowed from her recent exertions and the water that still made her seem to shine in the low light of the candles in the tent. Those petite breasts were prettily plump in their own way, the shape pleasingly rounded and her fair nipples clearly begging for attention.

Gregory licked his lips and decided to rise up and give those little peaks the attention they so richly deserved when he was quickly pushed back down by Valise's steady hand.

"No, not now. Talk, remember?" she said.

Gregory had a moment of irritation at that suggestion before he let out a laugh of his own.

"You want to talk like this? Valise, I am always happy to listen to your voice and your advice is always welcome. I just can't promise that I'll be giving you the attention you deserve if you decide to start a conversation at the moment. I'm going to be slightly distracted." He quickly clenched his buttocks together and bounced Valise lightly on top of him.

Her eyes widened and she let out a little gasp of pleasure. If he kept that little trick up then she might have been the one having difficulty concentrating. Still, she pressed on. She gave his nose another light flick of her finger to bring his eyes from her breasts up to her face.

"Then I shall have to keep your attention." There was something slightly menacing in the way she said that.

"Fine." Gregory agreed as he relaxed and made himself comfortable. Although with his tired limbs laid out in the furs and the gorgeous elf witch firmly mounted upon his length it was hardly a difficult task to relax and enjoy himself.

"Good. I wished to talk to you about the way you have been fighting in your battle games." Her hands lowered to his chest and her palms flattened out across the hard muscle to gently slide her fingertips across the small cuts and grazes he'd picked up over the past few days.

"Fighting is a very generous word for what I've been doing out there. Getting my ass kicked in ways I didn't know it could be kicked is more like it," he grumbled.

"Yes. Stop that."

"Stop what? Getting the crap kicked out of me? Oh, wow, thanks for that, oh wise mentor. That's just the thing I've been doing wrong all this time. Why the hell didn't I think of that?" His eyes narrowed upon her.

"I believe the strategy of getting your ass kicked—as you so eloquently put it—is more of a choice than you think."

"Really? How did you come up with that? All your years fighting in orc war packs? I've got the hang of fighting enough with the Runts that even Algra doesn't yell at me anymore. So what exactly is it that I'm doing wrong?"

Sensing his rising anger, Valise slowly shifted her hips in a slow circle. It was almost imperceptible, and yet she felt the rising tension in him dissipate somewhat and enjoyed the feeling of his length swirling inside her.

"Algra wants you to be safe, Gregory. She does not want you to win. If you win, she thinks that you will take the ring back and leave her. So, she is happy for your pack to be beaten again and again."

"I don't believe that."

"Don't you?" She tilted her head slightly, her gaze oddly inquisitive. "No, you do not. In truth, I don't think Algra has properly thought about it up here." She lifted her finger and tapped her brow. "But I know that fear lingers in her heart. She would never speak out against you. She loves you deeply. Yet now you come home to her every night. In the provings you are tested but you are in no true danger any longer. Rowun Strongblood was a great and proven warrior who fought many battles with dangerous enemies. She loved him deeply too, and those enemies took him from her. I do not think she wants to lose another mate, and in her heart I think she is most comfortable with the current situation."

Gregory's expression grew troubled at Valise's words. It was very easy to overlook the woman in the camp, for Valise preferred to keep to herself and work her alchemy in private. He rarely had any problems with her and he counted her a close friend. In doing so he had obviously overlooked how much she observed when she was settled there in front of her tent with her potions for sale, largely overlooked by everyone around her.

"If that's true, and I'm still not sure it is, but if you're right then what do you think I should do? Do you have any secret elfish way of fighting that could give me an advantage? Right now I think I'd need to become Batman to stand a chance against the other packs in the provings." He lifted one hand from where it rested on her hip and pushed away a few stray locks of dark hair that had spilled across his face.

"I know nothing of this Batman, but I suspect that you need only be yourself to prevail in your upcoming battles." She gently reached out to push away his hand and carefully did the job of tucking away his hair for him. Her light fingers traced across his brow comfortingly, and eased some of the frustration he felt with her line of conversation.

"Being myself hasn't gotten me anywhere but thrown on my ass so far." Gregory focused on the feel of the woman connected to him so intimately rather than the upsurge of many painful memories of defeat in the proving pits.

"That is because you are not yourself, dear one. You are trying to be an orc." Before he could give her a retort to that, she lowered herself to silence him with a loving and tender kiss. Again, he relaxed when he felt those silken lips caressing his own. His arms lifted to hold her against him, but eventually she slipped away to rise above him again.

"Ok then, oh wise one. Explain. I'm not about to start wearing false-tusks, so what do you mean that I'm trying to be an orc? Isn't that kind of the point of the provings?"

"No, the point of the provings is to prove that you can succeed in combat and fight alongside a war pack."

"Riiight..." Gregory lofted a brow and waited for her to elaborate.

"How do orcs fight?" she asked.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. She wasn't exactly the most forthcoming of conversationalists and he'd had a very long day. After a moment of setting his mind to seek out the answer, he finally gave his assessment.

"They like the devastating charge. Their armour and weapons are all focused on it. Their weapons are unbalanced towards the business end to give them more impact and their armour is focused on protecting the upper body. Size and strength are their key advantages and they're very good at using them on the offence."

"Good," Valise commended his assessment as a patient teacher to her student. "Now, how effective are the Runts at implementing this way of war?"

"Terrible. Frelki and Nullik are too slim and too small. They're fitter than most humans, but they don't seem like they'll ever get bigger than they are. Don't have the right body type for it, I guess. When they try to charge like they've been told they don't last more than a few seconds. Ulla is capable and dangerous, but she doesn't fight with the rest of us so our charge has even less impact. Wrut is good, but he fights with a weapon that's too big to wield properly with only one arm, so after the initial charge he's easily outmanoeuvred when it gets down to the fighting. Frun's ok, but he's not the sharpest knife in the drawer and usually just tries to back up Ulf. Ulf himself would probably be great with any other pack, but he's not a good leader. He needs to be more adaptable. If we're actually going to win, we need to come up with a better plan than charge and fight."

It was good for him to voice the thoughts he'd been having over the past weeks in the comfort of Valise's company. The Runts weren't bad orcs, or even bad individual fighters. They just didn't work when it came to fighting as any sort of cohesive group.

"And what about yourself?" Valise asked.

"Me? All I can really do when it comes to the charge is try to back up one of the others. When it comes to the fighting I just try to help us hold our ground. My new shield helps, but I fucking hate using those unbalanced clubs. Every time I swing at something it feels like it takes forever just to recover. I can't really parry with them either. I'd honestly prefer to throw the fucking thing in the dirt and go hand-to-hand."

"So, you have assessed what is wrong. Now, why have you not fixed these problems?"

"Because I can't."

"Why not?"

"For one thing, you're not allowed to fight with anything but the clubs or the armour."

"That is no rule I am aware of." Valise lightly lifted herself up and slid all the way down his length again.

"What?" His eyes flashed open in surprise.

"It is frowned upon to use other tools in battle, but the rule is that no weapon can have an edge or a point. Likewise armour cannot be forged of metal. Beyond that? Anything is allowed as long as the proving master agrees to it."

"Wait? Seriously?" Gregory's gaze seemed to ignite as the possibilities of that raced through his head. Then that momentary spark was quelled when he let out a breath and shook his head. "If I made new weapons then it would mean new tactics, and if I did that it'd undermine Ulf. He might not be the best leader, but he gave me a shot and he does everything he can to look after us in the pits. I don't want to screw him over."

"I think you fear too much for the son of the warchief. I see him fight. I see him struggle. He does not wish for power or renown. He wishes to win."

Gregory looked up to her and felt new thoughts and a new hope racing through him. He thought about what the woman atop him had said and saw a new path illuminated before him. Quickly, he sat up and caught Valise against him to kiss her with a deep and loving passion. She felt the change in him, and the power that came with it. The male was renewed, and she could feel the fire in him roar back to life once again. There was no resistance from her in that moment, and she let herself be swept along with that blaze of enthusiasm.

The touch of his body was no longer tense with the desperate need to find relief at the end of a hard day. Instead, he coaxed and teased her with an adoring touch that distracted her enough that she yelped aloud when he swiftly rolled them over. She found herself settled amongst her furs, her legs splayed open and the strong male between them becoming more his old self again. It was by no means a cause for complaint, as he kissed her with a simmering heat as his hips rocked to a slow and steadily building beat.

The slender arms of the beautiful woman settled around his shoulders. Her fingertips whitened as they pressed against the smooth waves of hard muscle. She felt the tension in him rise, and the churning build-up of bliss that they made between them lifted to its inevitable finale. It was slow, soft and tender with a loving kiss shared constantly between them. The rigid length that slid between her silken lower lips pulsed with every thunderous beat of his heart.

She was the first to succumb, and sink down into that hot, ecstatic embrace. Gregory knew no pleasure better than the feel of a woman falling to his attentions, and the sensation of Valise quivering against him finally drew him to his own release. She felt it everywhere his body was entwined with hers. That powerful last thrust, that lasting tension finally yielding to her and melting away to nothingness.

Their kiss lasted longer than their climax, for he found himself renewed for the first time in weeks. There was simply no other place he'd rather have been than laid with her there, tasting her amongst the thick furs. Savouring the moment, she enjoyed all he had to give her. The feel of the fresh liquid heat he'd left within her felt exquisite with the chase of his lips, and she indulged herself for as long as she could.

As was his way, the male found that such a tender touch couldn't last indefinitely without awakening something deeper and more powerful inside him. Fresh and potent energy seemed to sizzle through his every pore as his mind cried out for more of the delectable female.

It wasn't an easy decision to pull away from her, but if he hadn't then her attentions would likely have gone to waste. She had restored his resolve, and given him a new way to see the situation. With a playful nip of his teeth on her lower lip, he raised himself up to leave her naked and very content upon the furs beneath her. She was quite a sight there, as the formerly reserved and almost angelic woman became wanton and wild before his gaze.

"I have to go. I don't have a lot of time and I need to work." He heard the regret in his voice and realised with it just how much he didn't want to leave her there.

"I know. I wish you well."

"Thank you." He reached over to grab his trunks and his boots.

* * * * *

Gregory descended on the camp with a hot fire freshly ignited in his belly. The first stop he made was to Torren's tent where he swished back the canopy and found the large smith and the smaller Talina settled in each other's arms. They were both laid naked atop the bed and snoozing contentedly.

Not having the time or the inclination to come back another time, Gregory snatched up an iron bar and clanged it against Torren's anvil.

"Alright lovebirds! Up you get!" he yelled.

Talina jolted upright and quickly rolled off her lover to look around for the impending cavalry charge. Torren also shot upright, although he did it quite a bit faster and less gracefully than Talina and managed to roll off the bed and hit his head on the floor.

Upon seeing Gregory, Talina's expression shifted from attack mode to a bright and pleasantly surprised smile.

"Master! You require us?" she tilted her head to the side, completely unfazed by her obvious nudity.

"Actually I require him." Gregory pointed to the smith who was groaning, rubbing his head and getting up off the floor.

Torren was a good deal more self-conscious about public nudity and quickly grabbed his tunic to pull over his head. The world hadn't quite caught up with him right then. He'd managed to process that there was a loud noise, a hard landing with the floor, and then his master appearing in his tent and making a lot of noise. It took him a full minute to realise what Gregory had said.

"What? Me?"

"Yes, you. Fire up the forge, my friend. I think it's going to be a long night."

* * * * *

It was indeed a long night, and Torren had to ask another human worker in Bolut's camp for assistance. The man had experience working metal, but he wasn't as effective as Torren. They also needed to bribe one of the orc smiths to lend a hand before dawn peaked over the horizon. Gregory himself learned the basics of hammering metal, and by early morning they eventually had what he needed.

Just as they were finishing up, Algra stormed out of their tent and approached them with war-like intent. The violent stance she'd taken on her approach evened out quite a bit when she saw Gregory working amongst his impromptu group of craftsmen.

"What is this!?" she growled.

"I'm trying something new." He smiled up at her.

"Try in day, not when sleep!"

"Oh! Yeah, sorry about that. Did we keep you up all night?"

"We didn't sleep much." Janette had emerged from the tent to casually walk up beside Algra and sleepily lean on the orc. "What were you doing?"

"He try something new." Algra rubbed her eyes.

"Right." Gregory nodded. "I need the Runts here. Actually, no, I need them in the jungle. The spot where we practice together. Could you two bring them from the proving grounds?"

"I sleep." Algra grunted before turning away and prowling back to the tent. She was not a morning person.

Janette wobbled as her balancing shoulder vanished and then she yawned with a long stretch. "I'll go ask them. Then if someone could just catch me when I pass out, that'd be nice."